Chapter 280: Void Well

"Hmm-hmm-hmm..."

Humming a lighthearted tune, Lilia strolled through the corridors of the Wizard Tower, her mood buoyant. Recently, the old fossils of the Spellbinder Wizard Tower had all departed to handle affairs in the Orc Kingdom, leaving no one to keep an eye on a free-spirited soul like her.

Word had it that a few Orc Shamans had lost their marbles and attempted to replicate the Chimera—the biological weapons of the Five-Race Allied Forces from the Abyss Campaign—only for the experiment to spiral out of control. The rogue Chimera, having devoured seven or eight orc tribes, had broken through to the Legendary rank, forcing the orcs to pay a king's ransom to hire wizards from the Spellbinder Tower for assistance.

"Legendary weapons, why are they all in the hands of the orcs? Every known Legendary weapon seems to be held by them. It’s bizarre. Do the orcs have some sort of ancestral inheritance?"

Looking around while rubbing her chin, Lilia muttered to herself, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Eh, never mind. I suppose it’s just the orcish custom to never hide such precious armaments, preferring to hack and slash to their heart's content on the front lines. Heaven knows how many Legendary weapons the dwarves have tucked away."

"One Legendary weapon in exchange for the services of three top-tier Archwizards—all in all, we’re the ones profiting. When we trade that weapon for funds to expand the tower, I’ll have to demand an extra share. After all, I’ve got an extra mouth to feed here."

Wearing a sly grin, Lilia began calculating how to squeeze a few more portions of funding from the administrators of the Spellbinder Tower.

"Time’s about up. I wonder what delicious treats my dear sister has prepared today. Sigh... Mira’s cooking is truly divine. How would I ever survive without her?"

"Little Avia is so much like her mother; her skills probably aren't far off. That knight of hers is a lucky man, though I can't help but envy her... haha."

Snapping her fingers, a phantom pocket watch, fashioned from void energy, appeared in her palm. It was nearly one in the afternoon—time for her favorite part of the day: afternoon tea.

Ever since she brought Avia’s mother—her own sister, Mira Swain—to the Spellbinder Wizard Tower, Lilia’s life had grown increasingly comfortable.

Mira possessed the same gentleness and attentiveness as Avia, yet she carried a maturity and refinement untouched by the influence of Wang Yu, that brute who treated life with such reckless disregard.

Unable to continue her path as a wizard or mage due to special circumstances, Mira usually had little to occupy her time.

Helping tend the tower’s gardens, admiring the beauty of sunsets and sunrises, painting oils of the Magic Moon, and preparing exquisite afternoon tea for herself and her sister Lilia—this was Mira’s daily routine.

It was simple, yet leisurely. Lilia could see that Mira cherished this life, and understandably so; the events at the Rhine Manor had left indelible scars upon her soul.

Lilia was glad her sister had found a way of life she truly loved.

Well, her happiness was certainly not solely due to the sheer comfort of sipping a cup of full-sugar, milky coffee in a garden overflowing with the colors and scents of beautiful flowers, accompanied by a plate of freshly baked, crispy wheat biscuits or chocolate cake.

Alright,

I have to admit, that was part of the reason. Just, yes, part of the reason.

Muttering to herself to justify her thoughts, Lilia happily quickened her pace through the corridor.

Pushing open one of the tower’s doors, she stepped out onto an open lawn where two figures were clashing with longswords. One was Garcia, clad in light armor, while his opponent was a figure covered from head to toe in heavy, pitch-black plate armor.

Neither used battle qi, yet the sheer strength of their physical bodies was staggering. Training swords crossed and collided in the air at high speeds, sparks flying, blades flickering, and afterimages dancing. The harsh, rhythmic clanging could be heard from far away.

"Clang!"

"Hmph!"

Garcia’s sword slammed into the Black Knight’s chest with a thunderous roar. The blade vibrated violently, yet not a single scratch marred that hideous, obsidian armor.

The Black Knight’s blade stopped a mere five or six centimeters from Garcia’s shoulder, a fraction of a second behind. The sudden halt of the high-speed strike sent a sharp gust of air sweeping through the gaps in Garcia’s light armor, tearing a small slit in the fabric beneath.

It was clearly a draw. Had they used battle qi, that black armor could not have withstood the power of Garcia’s strike; conversely, in a trade of wounds, the Black Knight’s delayed blade, bolstered by battle qi, would have been enough to severely injure Garcia, even if it missed a vital spot.

"You two, stop fighting! Black Knight, ever since I brought Garcia back, you two are the only knight in this tower and you spend every day sparring. Is it really that interesting?"

With a tone of mockery, Lilia shouted at the two hulking figures, her words clearly teasing the knight encased in black armor.

"Hng..."

A dull sound emanated from beneath the black helmet. It was unclear what was said, but judging by the way the figure shook its head, it was likely out of resignation. Lilia had been in the tower for quite some time, and it was likely that others had been teased by this big sister more than once.

"Hey, don't get grumpy just because I said something. I don't mind you practicing, but the problem is that you two Great Knights are sparring without battle qi, and those longswords simply can't withstand your strength."

"Since you started, the tower has had to spend ten times more than before on refined iron swords every week. Are you paying for this yourselves?"

Hands on her hips, Lilia arched an eyebrow, pointing at the two longswords left on the side after the training. The sturdy refined iron swords were battered, full of notches, and so bent they were beyond repair.

"Hng, gah..."

An inexplicable, muffled sound came from beneath the black helmet. The Black Knight scratched his head, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"So you do know! You’re still working off your debt to the tower, yet you don't feel a shred of pity for wasting the tower's money on your training."

Lilia hummed, quite satisfied with the Black Knight’s display of embarrassment.

"I can pay for them. Maintaining combat sharpness is essential for a knight," Garcia interjected, walking toward Lilia. If she had come to find him now, there could only be one reason.

"Hey, what good is you paying? Your

money is my money. You're wasting my funds to buy longswords, aren't you?"

Jumping up to rap Garcia on the head, Lilia expressed her deep dissatisfaction with his logic.

"You’ve put on weight. When you’re not researching spells or sorcery, come run a few laps with me. Besides, isn't it a bit much to keep troubling your sister?"

Ignoring her banter, Garcia pointed to her noticeably rounder face, offering a reminder.

"Don't talk nonsense! How could I have gained weight? And as for exercise, forget it. Why would wizards and mages need to be like you? You’ll be the ones on the front lines when a fight breaks out anyway, and we can't cultivate battle qi."

Flustered, Lilia ungracefully reached under her robe to grab a handful of her stomach. Damn it, there really was a slightly noticeable roll there. Her expression twisted, and she hurriedly steered the conversation away from the topic of weight.

"Look at your niece; she exercises quite well. Improving reflexes and speed is beneficial for mages and wizards, too."

Continuing to speak to Lilia, Garcia walked with her toward the garden of the Wizard Tower.

"Sigh, she’s a true genius. It’s only natural she’s a bit better than me! And how can you call it troubling my sister? This is Mira’s hobby; preparing fine food is only joyful when you share it with others."

Garcia glanced at Lilia. She was at it again. The way she said that, you’d think she wasn't the one who had once set a massive fire while claiming to be the number one fire mage, then brazenly stolen Garcia’s share of biscuits while he, a Great Knight, "didn't notice."

"Hng, mm, hmm-hmm..."

The black-armored

knight watched the pair walk away, a sound of indeterminate meaning issuing from beneath his heavy iron helm. He picked up the notched longsword from the ground and shoved it into a gap in his faceplate. The sound of metal shattering echoed, and the sword gradually vanished.

……

"What kind of dessert is there today? It’s truly something to look forward to... hmm?"

Lilia’s light steps suddenly faltered, the words on her lips dying away, her expression turning peculiar.

"What is it?"

Seeing Lilia’s reaction, Garcia immediately asked. He didn't know what she was up to now; it wasn't the first time he’d experienced her sudden whims, each one as startling as the last.

"Mira isn't in the garden..."

Lilia’s abrupt "hmm" dropped in pitch. It was clear she was truly surprised, though disappointment was the more dominant emotion.

"..."

Garcia didn't know what to say. He should probably be grateful she hadn't suddenly thought of a new fire spell and asked him to help test it—he didn't mind much, but she had a habit of blowing herself into the sky.

"Hummm..."

A high-frequency hum suddenly resonated through the corridors of the Wizard Tower. Upon hearing the sound, Lilia, who had been dejected over the lack of afternoon tea, turned instantly grave.

Even Garcia, who hadn't been here long, felt his brows knit tightly together.

This was an alarm from the Wizard Tower’s own runic array. The reason for triggering this alarm was...

"Some wizard has been eroded by the Void to the threshold, creating a Void Well. It’s already reached the trigger..."

"The degree of corruption is such that I fear there is little hope of salvation."

Lilia muttered to herself, quickening her pace. Afternoon tea was the last thing on her mind; the emergence of a Void Well was enough to alert the entire Wizard Tower.

A "Void Well" is a phenomenon that occurs when a wizard's threshold for Void erosion is breached.

Wizards draw upon the power of the Void, using their mental strength to channel its energy into the material world to warp reality and cast spells. This implies that every wizard acts as a miniature rift to the Void.

Yet, these rifts are bound by the wizard's own flesh and mental sanctum, making them far "safer" than the uncontrollable fissures found elsewhere.

But this safety is merely relative; to dance with the Void is to risk total annihilation at the slightest misstep.

When a wizard’s mental defenses are pierced by the seepage of a Void rift, or when their physical form—lacking the mental fortitude to contain the energy—is utterly twisted by uncontrolled Void forces, the bound rift breaks free.

This is how a "Void Well" is born. A rift opens within the wizard’s body, and the leaking essence of the Void begins to transmute the wizard into a part of that very abyss.

Eventually, the wizard is dragged into the Void, pulled by the rift within and the material world's own rejection of a being now fundamentally transformed.

Around the center of the afflicted wizard, a bottomless, abyssal pit manifests—the projection of the rift’s encroaching influence.

Because the wizard exists in a liminal state between the Void and the material world before their complete conversion, the rift’s influence—which should have been suppressed by the material world’s natural repulsion—is sustained under the cover of the wizard’s own existence.

Should one carelessly wander into this deep, yawning pit, they would fall through, tumbling into the Void as if dropping into a dark, abandoned well; hence the name "Void Well."

"Which wizard could it be? The wizards of the Cursed-Binder Tower shouldn't make the mistake of letting their minds become so heavily polluted by the Void. They have their vows as insurance—how could a Void Well appear?"

Lilia hurried, running down the corridor. She had to know immediately who had triggered the phenomenon.

The wizards of the Cursed-Binder Tower are bound by secret rites to uphold certain prohibitions—abstaining from love, refraining from direct political interference in nations, or refusing to consume flesh.

By locking away aspects of their consciousness, they strengthen their soul's resistance to corruption. Such incidents were nearly unheard of, yet the tower’s alarms were ringing with undeniable urgency.

"Hm? Lilia, are you alright!?"

As she sprinted toward the upper levels, the footsteps echoing from above were chaotic and loud. She was not the only one searching; other members of the tower were also in motion.

Lilia, running in a frantic blur, nearly collided with a wizard rushing down. Fortunately, Garcia, trailing close behind, pulled her back just in time.

The wizard, who had nearly crashed into her, looked startled, his tone laced with obvious confusion and strangeness upon seeing her.

"What do you mean, 'am I alright'? I'm perfectly fine. Who triggered the Void Well? The elders are away, we need to see if there's any way to pull them back before—wait..."

Lilia felt a sudden, inexplicable chill. Though she usually acted with a carefree air, her mind was sharp, and she immediately grasped the implication, her face turning pale as she asked the question.

"Is the Void Well located in my room?!"

The other wizard nodded.

"Quick, Garcia, take me to my room! Damn it all..."

Lilia commanded, and Garcia did not hesitate. He hoisted her onto his shoulder, his strength surging so violently that the stone steps of the tower cracked beneath his feet. With a blur of motion, he carried her at breakneck speed toward her quarters.

Lilia’s expression was taut, her thoughts in disarray. If a Void Well had appeared in her room while she was absent, there was only one person who could be there: her sister, Mira Swain.

"What is happening? Didn't Mira give up the path of the wizard? How could she trigger a Void Well? I had confirmed that her connection to the Void had faded to almost nothing..."

A Great Knight’s speed is naturally astonishing. In ten seconds, he crossed four floors, depositing Lilia at her door.

Many wizards were already gathered there. They froze at the sight of her, ready to speak, but were silenced by the force of Garcia’s arrival.

"It is indeed a Void Well, and one near its final stage. But why has it stopped spreading? It’s stabilized—this is impossible! What is going on?"

Dizzy, Lilia jumped from Garcia’s shoulder and shook her head to clear it. She knelt, focusing her mental perception on her room.

Near the threshold, the floor and walls were slightly blurred, saturated with a violet glow that had begun to consume the surrounding matter—the hallmark of a terminal Void Well.

Yet, a well in this state should be expanding rapidly. It was impossible for it to be this stable; it neither spread nor dissipated under the pressure of the material world.

"No matter. Mira, are you hiding something from me...!"

Gritting her teeth, Lilia pushed aside her hesitation. She had to confirm her sister’s condition. Coating herself in protective magic and Void energy, she slammed the door open.

The sight within left Lilia and the surrounding wizards stunned.

Inside, there was no Void Well; the room had become a pocket of the Void itself. The walls and floor were replaced by a deep, abyssal blackness reminiscent of a strange, starry sky. Furniture and small objects flickered in and out of existence, no longer accepted by the material world.

In the center of the room, sitting quietly in a rocking chair, was Mira. Beside her stood three figures in suits and top hats, their faces obscured, radiating a smile that required no expression to be felt.

"Good afternoon, everyone. Do not be concerned; we are merely waiting for a few guests. Perhaps you could close the door? We do not care to be disturbed."

The words were spoken by one of them, light and mocking.

At the same moment, outside the Cursed-Binder Tower, the Black Knight raised his head, looking toward the distant sky.

A massive flying beast was beating its wings, churning the air into a gale, carrying a figure on its back as it flew toward them with terrifying speed.