Chapter 207: Writer, a Mission

(Still adding chapters! Though not as many as the past two days, haha. My extra chapters really depend on what I am writing; I insist on finishing one event per chapter, but if I find I cannot finish, I keep writing, and it turns into an extra chapter. By the way, Charles’s upbringing was actually very good, really.)

"Have neither Captain Shugin nor Professor Zig sent word?"

Edward, running alongside Wang Yu toward the boundary of what might be the "Divine Kingdom" of the God of Fear, called out.

He was curious: during the time he had been trapped in the Cage of Memories, had the Night’s Edge really failed to transmit any new information—be it missions or intelligence?

"None..." Wang Yu pulled the magitech communication device from his pocket, glanced at it, and confirmed that no messages had arrived.

"It must be an issue with this space. Do you think it’s possible that Miss Sufang and you broke free from the God of Fear’s shackles so quickly? This is something Sewintan cobbled together with his life on the line; how could it be so easy to deal with?"

Wang Yu cast his gaze toward the pitch-black firmament. The twisted, deformed giant shadow upon it did not move an inch, yet Wang Yu could feel that even as it simply hung there, doing nothing, the surrounding emotion of fear continued to climb.

"Yes, the City Guard and the Night’s Edge couldn't possibly have failed to react. Even if they had bombarded it with Reality Stabilization Spears like you did, I wouldn't be surprised."

"But we have found nothing. No explosions, no traces of magic. In this space covered by the God of Fear’s power, there is nothing but dead silence besides us."

Edward turned his head and hoisted Sufang—who had been following them but whose stamina was now failing—onto his back, continuing to analyze the situation.

"So, it is the space itself. This is the domain of the God of Fear. Everything that does not belong to Him is affected, such as the magical signals used by the communication devices..."

Wang Yu took out the device once more and attempted to send a message. Sure enough, although the device was functioning, he felt no magical fluctuations generated by the ripples.

"This is truly terrible news. I wonder if the Stevenson Academy of Magic and the Royal Family have any way to deal with this domain and its master."

Edward gritted his teeth. The situation was not optimistic. Having just escaped the shackles of fear, he now began to feel the influence of the God of Fear’s power once more; a tremor without cause and a biting chill crept into his heart.

He felt something fuzzy brush against his right arm, wrapping around it and giving a gentle tug. Edward did not turn to look; he knew it was the tail of the cat-girl on his back.

"Phew... now is not the time for fear."

……

Blinding, scorching rays erupted from a magic circle manifesting in the sky, slicing through the horizon before plunging into the boundary of the black, semi-circular domain that had appeared in the center of the Royal City.

However, upon contact with the edge of the domain, this magical assault from the Stevenson Academy of Magic simply dissolved and dissipated, like a clay ox entering the sea, failing to stir even a ripple.

"Elemental magic attacks are ineffective. Although this domain has not displayed corresponding offensive capabilities, all our current spells are useless against that giant shadow and the expanding domain beneath it."

"The current analysis suggests the space within that domain is akin to the Divine Kingdom of a deity. The effects are weakened, but for non-physical attacks like magic, it has achieved near-total negation of all incoming spells."

"These spells are being converted by that 'Divine Kingdom' into the same substance as the extremely powerful, singular emotion of fear that permeates the interior."

The mages in charge of the attack arrays at the Academy quickly reported the results to the leadership, including the Dean.

Currently, the area of the Royal City shrouded by the black semi-circular domain was completely cut off from the outside world; all communication methods were ineffective.

The multiple magical strikes the Academy had conducted at the request of the Royal Family had also had no effect on the domain, which continued to expand.

"I do not believe the Royal Family lacks the means to deal with such an entity. Mage teams in charge of the arrays, continue your analysis and conduct periodic magical strikes, increasing the magnitude in stages. Often, ineffectiveness is simply due to insufficient mana input to break that boundary."

The Dean issued his orders calmly. Watching the dark domain—which was expanding outward at a relatively slow speed—on the screen provided by the Mage’s Eye, he adjusted the device on his communicator to connect with the Royal Family.

"Has the Night’s Edge begun their operation?" the Dean asked.

"They have already begun. They are experts in this field and should have a way to handle it. We have entrusted the mission to their current head, Shugin Smoke; he will release 'that thing' when necessary."

"Outside that area, many members of the Sewintan Abyss Gate organization, previously hidden in the city, have appeared. The Night’s Edge and the City Guard are expending great effort to target these sudden arrivals. The Royal Guards are also on their way to support. We hope Stevenson Academy can provide some mages to assist."

The reply came from the communicator, expressing a desire for the Dean to provide mages for assistance.

"I have told you many times: although Stevenson Academy of Magic is a non-talent-testing institution that one can enter by paying tuition..."

"This is a place for seeking truth, not a place for training mages for combat. We have already lost many excellent professors and teachers, sacrificed in the battles against Sewintan."

The Dean’s tone was cold, containing a smoldering anger, expressing great dissatisfaction with the request for assistance from the Royal Family.

"If we have caused you dissatisfaction, we offer our apologies. I do not know what has made you so angry, but does this mean you are currently unable to provide mage support?"

The Royal Family’s reply came quickly, with a tone of apology, though it was unclear how much sincerity it held.

"No, I will go to support it myself. After all, this is the kingdom and city where I have lived for many years, and this academy was built by my own hands. I do not wish to see them swallowed by that ever-expanding 'Divine Kingdom of the God of Fear'."

The Dean placed the communicator on the desk, stripped off the elegant formal robes he usually wore, revealing the combat mage’s short robe underneath, and fished a plain-looking short staff from beneath the conference table.

"Handle the matters within the academy yourselves. I have no time to bicker with you now. I hope your administrative ability is as impressive as your ability to contradict me."

The Dean said this to the high-ranking academy officials at the table while embedding magic crystals into the short staff.

Those who usually loved to oppose the Dean did not dare to say a word. Perhaps the Dean’s usual gentle demeanor had made them forget that he was a Great Mage with the potential to step into the realm of legends.

"As for you, why am I angry? During such an important celebration, how was your security handled? How could you let someone with the ability to summon a divine descent slip in?"

Having finished preparing, the Dean added a final remark to the communicator connected to the Royal Family.

"…… It was our oversight. Moreover, the opponent’s disguise was highly sophisticated, evading most detection methods."

After a moment of silence, the reply came from the communicator, carrying a sense of self-reproach and a hint of attempted sophistry.

"Heh, it had better be. Father Fang is not here; you had better not mess this up."

The Dean gave a disdainful sneer and waved his short staff. There was no incantation, yet a massive amount of mana gathered in an instant, and unstable spatial fluctuations manifested.

"We will do our utmost to handle this error. Most of the Royal Family’s deployable forces have already departed."

The voice came from the communicator on the table, but there was no response. The Dean had already torn through space and teleported away from the conference room after finishing his sentence.

The high-ranking officials of the academy did not speak; they merely wiped the cold sweat from their foreheads and quickly mobilized the academy’s affairs. Regardless of anything else, they were, after all, professors who had once produced research results...

……

In a pitch-black room, only a single magic crystal lamp, which could hardly be called bright, shone on the table in the center.

On one side of the table sat a boy with brown hair, his face still youthful and tinged with a hint of terror, staring at a middle-aged man sitting opposite him.

"Wooo..." The boy seemed to want to say something, but his hands and feet were bound to the chair he sat on, and his mouth was locked by a thick strip of tape. The words he tried to speak turned into meaningless whimpering.

"Click, click." He struggled hard, causing the chair—which was far too large for the boy—to emit a slight creak, but the bindings showed no sign of loosening.

"Charles, are you still unwilling to give up that demon within you? You must know that although most demons are stupid and violent, some possess wisdom that others lack."

"Although I know you say it has been helping you, you must understand that is merely a trick to bewitch you. This false help is intended to make you abandon the ability inherent to our Reid family—the ability to peer into and conform to destiny."

"This ability ensures our Reid family’s current status in the kingdom. As the son of the family head, you want to abandon this power? Do you know how heartbroken I am as your uncle?"

"I must make you understand: those who are good to you are not necessarily truly good. Beneath that hypocritical mask lies the deepest malice, do you understand? I had a hard time convincing the family head to let me guide you. If you remain this stubborn, I will lock you here until you come to your senses."

The middle-aged man across from him kept chattering, trying to persuade the boy to abandon whatever was inside him, and the persuasion ended with a threat...

"Mmm-mmm-mmm!" The boy’s eyes widened, revealing terror, and he nodded frantically at the middle-aged man.

"Oh? I didn't expect you to come to your senses so quickly. Fine, I will remove the gag. You only need to read this contract, and you can sever your connection with that thing."

The man was slightly surprised by the boy’s speed of submission. A smile appeared on the corner of his mouth as he pulled a piece of parchment filled with text from his person, placed it on the table, and reached out to undo the seal on the boy’s mouth.

"Huff, huff, huff! Damn it, you almost suffocated me! Tied so tight and covering my nose too—are you trying to make me submit or kill me?!"

However, the words that spilled from the boy’s mouth made the middle-aged man’s smile freeze. Charles’s upbringing was supposed to be very good; how could he say such things?

"I think there’s something seriously wrong with your brain. You want me to give up an existence that has been helping me, helping me avoid danger, and chatting with me? Malice? Malice? I think your world is the one full of malice!"

"I’m truly impressed. If the destiny your ability peered into said your mother was going to die, what would you do? Would you say, 'Ah, this is the guidance of destiny,' and watch her die?"

"Oh, I made a mistake. You might actually be that kind of person. When your wife and daughter are both destined to die, you’ll probably still be sitting there grinning, saying, 'This is destiny.'"

Catching his breath, the boy Charles began to curse and mock without pause. This continuous, machine-gun-like output left the middle-aged man across from him completely stunned.

"You..." With his mouth agape, the man stared in disbelief at the boy who seemed like a complete stranger.

"You and your 'you'! I simply refuse to believe in that pile of dogshit you call fate. I went through hell to save my mother with Xiao Yi, and I went out of my way to keep her by my side. And you have the gall to tell me she’s trying to harm me? Are you out of your mind? What kind of continental joke is this?"

"I’ll admit, that experience was the absolute worst time of my life, bar none. But fortunately, I’ve got a spine. Even though I was terrified, feeling like I was being suffocated and starved to death, I gritted my teeth and refused to sign that bullshit devil’s contract you pulled out of nowhere."

"It’s a good thing my father, simple as he is, realized something was wrong after a week. He kicked the door down with his guards, saved me, and gave you the beating of a lifetime."

"Do you know how I felt watching my father pummel you?"

Charles rattled off the words without a pause, then flashed a strange expression at the middle-aged man across from him.

"W-what?" The middle-aged man’s brain had been fried by Charles’s relentless, breathless tirade; he was so stunned he didn't know what to say, and he actually took the bait.

"It felt absolutely glorious!"

"Smack!"

With a roar, Charles somehow broke free from his chair’s restraints and slammed his palm across the man’s face. The sound was sharp and resonant, echoing through the room for a long time.

The middle-aged man was knocked clean off his chair. Before he could react, Charles was already striding over him, raining down merciless, frantic blows from both sides.

"Fear? I stopped being afraid of you a long time ago. My only regret is that I was so close to death back then that I didn't have the strength to help my father beat you. You, a so-called Seer of Fate—in order to peek at destiny, your power has withered to the point where a mage like me can pin you to the floor and thrash you?"

"Isn't it hilarious, huh?! You wanted me to become something like you? Keep dreaming. You’ve been a dog for the royal family so long your brain has turned into dog meat, and now you’re here trying to sow discord between me and Xiao Yi?"

"Do I need to teach you how to judge people? You don't look at what someone says; you look at what they do. Xiao Yi and I have been through so much—she saved my life, for heaven's sake! If I don't trust her, who am I supposed to trust? Huh? Tell me that!"

While cursing and raining blows down on his uncle, Charles roared and delivered one final, vicious strike. The next moment, the "uncle" on the floor, along with everything around him, shattered into a pile of chaotic, fragmented images.

"Oh, damn!" Charles snapped out of his nightmare, his consciousness returning to his body, only to find himself sprinting down the street.

Still dazed, Charles nearly tripped over his own feet, but the other presence within him took temporary control, preventing a fall.

"Although you broke free from the Fear God’s cage of memories only after I took control to pull you out of the domain’s reach, I am still grateful for your trust."

The familiar voice echoed in his mind. Once he regained his balance, Charles took back control and scratched his head, feeling a bit awkward. He’d forgotten that Xiao Yi could share his memories; the things he’d said in the "nightmare" were a little embarrassing.

"I never thought I’d get a chance to beat that bastard up again. Does the God of Fear offer such perks?" Charles mused with a hint of lingering satisfaction.

"Don't be too optimistic. The dark, wretched ending for Alastair that you and I once glimpsed seems to be coming true. The God of Fear has descended. I don't know how Sewentan managed to summon a fallen god of such power; no wonder I couldn't pierce through that fog."

Xiao Yi warned him in his mind.

"Nothing to worry about, is there? Just like we’ve always done." Charles grinned.

"I suppose so."

He pulled out his rarely used staff to cast two acceleration buffs on himself. As he sprinted toward his destination, he continued to converse with "Yi" in his mind.

"My conflict with my family has always been about this. I refuse to just watch my fate and go along with it. I think our family has relied on this ability to cling to status in the royal court for far too long. It’s pathetic."

"I don't want to be a spectator. I’d rather be a playwright. Not just watching, but writing my own script."

"The Weaver of Fate—how about that? Doesn't it sound cool?"

"Sounds a bit stupid..." came the listless reply from "Yi."

"Fine, let’s keep it simple then. 'Writer' it is. And right now, in my script, there’s a stubborn, unlucky guy who was supposed to die. I’m writing his fate, and he is not allowed to die!"

……………

"I wonder how things are going..."

Avia stood in the courtyard of the house on Red Maple Street, looking at the Fear God’s domain expanding in the distance. She felt a flicker of anxiety, but at the same time, she trusted Wang Yu.

Red Maple Street was far from the central square, so it would take time for the domain to reach them. The girl decided to wait there for news.

Suddenly sensing a ripple in the void, she pulled out the small statue of the Goddess that the Lady of Night had given her. At that moment, a trace of tangible darkness was swirling and drifting across its surface.

She pressed the statue to her forehead, and the words of the Lady of Night flowed into her mind.

"Avia, I have a message from the Night’s Edge that I need you to relay. They cannot reach Wang Yu through their communication devices, and I cannot contact him directly, so I must go through you."

"Please, Lady Darkness, speak."

Avia felt a strange sensation. What kind of news required the Lady of Night herself to act as a messenger? If it were urgent, couldn't the Night’s Edge have sent a member to tell her directly?

Just a moment ago, she had been warned by members of the Night’s Edge, who were chasing the Abyss Gate organization, to seek shelter and avoid the expanding domain.

"There is a mission for Wang Yu to complete. Bring the item to the Shadow of the Royal City, then drop it into the Abyss to activate it. The item will be delivered to you shortly, and you must pass it to Wang Yu."

"Understood." The girl replied. She couldn't shake the feeling that the Lady of Night was sounding more like a human than a deity; it couldn't just be her imagination.

"An entity will arrive with the item soon. It might be a bit... unusual, but you should recognize it."

"Understood."

As the conversation ended, Avia wondered who could be bringing the item—someone unusual yet recognizable. Just then, a highly distinct voice drifted into the courtyard.

"Avia, is that you? Is Wang Yu here? If he hasn't arrived, I’ll wait with you. There are too many Abyss Gate members between here and the Shadow of the Royal City. Huguin is worried Wang Yu won't be able to finish the mission alone, so he sent me to lend a hand."

Avia recognized the voice instantly. She walked to the gate and looked out. Sure enough, a mass of living, roiling smoke was churning outside.

The noisy voice emanated from the smoke, which was currently swirling around a perfectly sealed metal sphere.

The Smoke Demon, who always called himself Huguin’s partner, had come out on his own. He was certainly unusual enough.