Deep within the Milaginbi Mountains, in a secret Black Magic Society outpost, candles flickered dimly as magical fluctuations quietly stirred through the air.
The air seemed bound by a taut string, so oppressive it was almost impossible to breathe.
"Who did it? Who dared to attack Steven Brill's manor without authorization?!"
An enraged roar suddenly exploded through the stone chamber, its echoes rumbling repeatedly against the surrounding cave walls.
The speaker was an elderly Black Robed Mage with deeply sunken eye sockets and a face full of wrinkles. Yet his voice rolled like thunder, making it clear that he was furious.
His anger stemmed not only from this sudden upheaval, but also because the target was far too sensitive—Steven Brill was a secret partner of the Black Magic Society.
"Teacher, could it be... a rumor?" the freckled young man standing nearby asked cautiously.
He looked uneasy, his hands unconsciously tightening around his staff. "Count Steven Brill is one of ours. Who would be stupid enough to attack him at a time like this? The Mage Association Enforcement Team isn't made up of pushovers."
"I also believe this is a frame-up," said a middle-aged female mage. Though she remained calm, her brows were tightly furrowed. "Perhaps it was the Mage Association Enforcement Team's doing. They've never been able to find any evidence against the Black Magic Society, so creating some chaos to provoke us into revealing ourselves would be perfectly fitting."
The other mages voiced their agreement, their opinions overlapping one another.
Some analyzed the motive, some questioned the intelligence, while others quietly exchanged looks—the more chaotic the situation became, the more dangerous it was for them.
The old mage silently watched the crowd. Though the anger on his face had not faded, a trace of calm appeared in his eyes.