Within Weil Fortress, inside the tallest Magic Tower, a golden flash streaked through the space. Lanlost stepped out of the void.
"My lord, why have you come to the Third Defense Line in person?" A young mage in a dark blue robe looked up in surprise.
He was Tavia. Though relatively young for an Archmage, he had an illustrious master behind him.
Lanlost watched him, his gaze as deep as an abyss. "Your teacher sent you here, but surely not just to sit around?"
Tavia's expression stiffened, and a trace of embarrassment flashed through his eyes. He said quietly, "My lord, you know why I was sent to the God-Demon Battlefield..."
As he spoke, he revealed a bitter smile, his eyes filled with helplessness and a hint of self-mockery.
Lanlost smiled faintly, though his tone was sharp. "Have you never considered taking the initiative to admit your mistake?"
"Isn't that lizardfolk woman still by your side? If you hand her over, perhaps everything can be resolved. If that person seizes the opportunity, you will surely die."
Tavia's breathing caught, and his face gradually darkened.
He slowly shook his head and replied in a low voice, "My lord, she is my teacher's attendant, not mine. I have no right to decide whether she lives or dies."
Lanlost's gaze sharpened, then he laughed. "You are far more steadfast than your teacher. If your teacher had faced this matter, you would likely have been discarded long ago."
Those words made Tavia tremble all over. He then raised his head, his eyes stubborn and his voice firm. "My lord, please do not speak ill of my teacher in front of me again."
The atmosphere inside the tower froze abruptly, as if a chill had entered the air.
Lanlost watched him for a long while