The Cold Reality

Revelation Continent, compared with Old Earth Continent, could truly be called a continent. Old Earth Continent was, at most, an edge island. Though Revelation Continent still could not be mentioned in the same breath as Prosperous Continent, at least in the world of wizards, its importance was acknowledged.

Dev was an exchange student personally appointed by the Silver Heron Royal Wizard Corps, headed to Hurricane Tower in the Southern Region of Prosperous Continent for "academic exchange."

That was what Dev himself had said.

In truth, all the gifted ones aboard the ship knew that the so-called Silver Heron Royal Wizard Corps was merely a group cobbled together by apprentices from Hurricane Tower who had failed to advance to formal wizards after leaving their master's school. Through old connections at Hurricane Tower, they could secure recommendation slots for certain gifted ones.

So this "exchange student" business was utter nonsense. Would an organization with a thousand years of foundations and formal wizards at its helm exchange with a wizard apprentice organization made up entirely of the old, weak, sick, and disabled? Were they still dreaming?

Still, though everyone knew, they buried it in their hearts and kept silent, because no one dared offend Dev.

After all, however old, weak, sick, and disabled they might be, they were still extraordinary lifeforms. Rumor had it that the Silver Heron Royal Wizard Corps even had a close apprentice of a formal wizard among its ranks. Only because he had no hope of advancing had he returned dejectedly to the Central Empire.

With that connection, coupled with the Central Empire's abundant wealth and resources, no one dared provoke Dev too much. No matter how arrogant and dandyish his behavior was, they silently endured it in their hearts.

Dev stepped into the restaurant, and the surrounding clamor immediately died down considerably.

Because of this, Angel heard someone whispering nearby, "Huh? Why is he alone today? Where are all his lackeys?"

Dev seemed to hear it too. He shot the speaker a vicious glare. Only after seeing the other man shrink back in fright and lower his head over his meal did he laugh loudly and leave.

Yet once Dev had passed through the crowd, his arrogant expression instantly turned cold.

He had just gone looking for his lackeys. Every room had been shut, and he had no idea where they had gone.

"Those damned bastards." Dev ground his teeth and cursed under his breath. Without his lackeys to serve him, he even had to fetch his own food.

Though Dev was accustomed to acting domineering among the gifted ones, he had clearly heard that the Bauhinia had a powerful background. Thus, he did not clash with the cook, obediently carrying his tray to an empty seat.

Angel had only glanced at Dev when he entered, then paid him no further attention.

He was now caught in a small confusion. When Dev stepped into the restaurant, Angel had clearly heard the door panel rattle twice, yet only Dev had come in.

Had he overworked his brain these past few days and developed an auditory hallucination?

Since childhood, Jon had trained Angel to instinctively observe his surroundings. This training was not meant to seek fortune and avoid disaster, but to capture details, combine them with self-realization, and gain inspiration and opportunities from all things. In short, it was meant to reflect and deepen his own knowledge.

Angel had always been proud of his instinct for catching subtle details others easily overlooked, but today it seemed to have malfunctioned.

Shaking his head, Angel gave up thinking about that somewhat eerie detail. It had nothing to do with him. A waste of time.

He enjoyed the explosion of flavor that food brought to his taste buds and could even become absorbed in fine cuisine—but that was on the premise that it was "fine cuisine." For the food on his tray, which could do no more than fill his stomach, he accepted it without indulging in it. As he ate, his thoughts once more set their carriage racing, mentally calculating answers to unresolved questions.

A scream came from not far away, interrupting Angel's thoughts, which had no doubt already flown off to some distant planet.

"Aaaah! Who are you? Come out!" A shrill male voice tore through the entire restaurant. It was followed by a crashing clatter of smashed tableware.

Frowning in displeasure, Angel looked over.

Not far away, the once-proud Third Prince of the Central Empire was in a miserable state. One hand clutched his neck, blood gushing through his fingers. With his other hand, he lifted a tablecloth and wildly swung it around him. Ceramic tableware lay shattered all over the floor.

Like an enraged bulldog, Dev flailed his claws and fangs in every direction. But it was useless, because there was not a single person within twenty meters of him.

"Huh, has he gone mad again? No, wait! Why is he bleeding?"

"Didn't you see the knife wound on his neck?" someone muttered softly. "Strange, but there's no one beside him?"

"Could it be a ghost?"

The watching gifted ones discussed it fervently, but not one of them considered stepping forward to help. Leaving aside how terrible Dev's personality was, the bizarre situation before them alone was enough to make them hesitate.

"The blood is flowing quickly, but it isn't spurting. It should be a severed vein." Angel glanced over and thought to himself, Even if it is only a severed vein, at this rate of blood loss, if he doesn't receive emergency treatment within ten minutes, he'll definitely die.

"A knife wound, but no one holding the knife." Angel's gaze swept around the room. Seeing no one near Dev, he suddenly recalled the strange second rattle from the door panel earlier. His brow relaxed, and a glint flashed in his eyes. Interesting.

An invisible person? A wizard apprentice? Or another gifted one his age?

Angel leaned toward the latter. If it had been a wizard apprentice, there would have been no need to turn invisible for an assassination—and even less reason to fail to kill in one blow.

While Angel pondered alone, Dev continued raging, though his voice grew weaker as time passed. Suddenly, as if he had heard something, he grabbed a bottle of red wine from a nearby table and violently splashed it toward the southeast, near the window.

The dark red wine did not splash against the wooden wall as expected. Instead, it was forced to halt in midair five meters away.

The wine slowly trickled down, and a red figure gradually emerged.

"There really is someone? And he was invisible!" someone cried out, pointing at the man whose form had been revealed by the wine. "Could he be a wizard?"

"A wizard? Don't joke around. How could a lofty wizard turn invisible just to assassinate us? If a master wanted us dead, all they would need to do was spit, and we'd die ten thousand deaths without ever recovering," someone sneered.

"Just wait. We'll soon find out who it is." A gifted one nearby pointed at the invisible man. "I remember Lord Kormoen mentioning invisible spells before: Illusory Invisibility, which uses illusions to turn invisible; Divine Concealment, which hides one in another space; and invisibility that uses light and shadow to create visual illusions. The first two can only be learned by formal wizards. Below formal spells, the only Level 0 cantrip capable of invisibility is Light and Shadow Interweave."

The Lord Kormoen this person mentioned was a guide from the wizard organization Gravity Forest, a Level 2 wizard apprentice.

"Anyone using Light and Shadow Interweave will definitely reveal themselves once touched by an external object."

"Of course, we can't rule out the possibility that he used an invisibility-type alchemical item. But even Lord Kormoen couldn't afford such an alchemical item."

As the man spoke, the invisible person splashed with red wine revealed his true form.

Angel looked over and raised a brow. It was a handsome youth dressed in tattered cloth, his face brimming with unruliness.

Angel did not know him, but judging from his clothing and the details of his movements, this gifted one should have come from the lowest class of commoners.

A poor commoner youth. A noble, spoiled prince.

The commoner youth looked at the bleeding Dev with an untamed expression. A wild, bloodthirsty smile spread across his lips, faintly carrying the thrill of vengeance fulfilled.

After seeing the commoner youth's true face, the once-noble prince's eyes held disbelief, venomous resentment, and fury. Amid his twisted expression was also a trace of regret.

"Interesting. The story behind these two might be melodramatic enough to keep Mana gossiping for an entire year." Angel smiled as he recalled how Head Maid Mana had gossiped about a famous Waterford nobleman who had cheated on his partner.

Angel shook his head and prepared to turn around and leave the restaurant. He had no desire to waste time on this sort of melodramatic plot.

Just as he rose to his feet, a middle-aged woman with a noble air and a head full of silver hair appeared at the scene of the chaos.

Angel happened to have heard of this elegantly dressed and richly adorned woman: Madam Meline, the Level 3 wizard apprentice stationed on the Bauhinia, from the wizard organization—Hurricane Tower.

Now that Madam Meline had appeared, the fate of the poor youth who had stabbed someone was presumably foreseeable... or was it...? Angel's gaze suddenly sharpened. Madam Meline walked into the center of the room without sparing even a glance for Dev, who lay half-dead on the floor. Instead, she inspected the knife-wielding youth from head to toe with delighted surprise.

Madam Meline raised a hand and swept it through the air, instantly cleansing the filth from the youth's body.

"What is your name?" Madam Meline asked the commoner youth.

"Isley. Respected Madam Meline, my name is Isley," the youth said respectfully. He did not state a surname, because he had no "surname." A surname represented a family's inheritance. He was an orphan. His name had belonged to a wolfhound kept by a nobleman he had once served. To obtain that name, he had fought the wolfhound until his entire body was drenched in blood. Only after he snapped the wolfhound's neck did the nobleman grant him the name "Isley."

"Isley, good. I'll remember your name."

"You are very good! In such a short time, you have already drawn forth the source of magic... Could your innate spiritual power be above 20?" Madam Meline suddenly reached out and placed her hand directly against Isley's forehead.

"Just as I thought. Your innate spiritual power is naturally 23 points. This will save you a great deal of time in the early stages—at least ten times faster than ordinary gifted ones! No wonder you guided out the source of magic so quickly." Madam Meline beamed at the youth. "Only half a month ago, I explained the principles of Light and Shadow Interweave to you all. Your ability to use Light and Shadow Interweave means you already understand the basic knowledge of light and shadow. Very good, very good!"

"Remember this: wizard spells are built upon knowledge and magic. Neither can be lacking. You have now stepped through the gates of a beginner wizard apprentice. Starting today, move to the top floor."

After saying this, Madam Meline turned and left without looking back.

Dev, meanwhile, had already entered his final moments. When Madam Meline's graceful figure vanished from the White Hibiscus Restaurant, Dev's despairing gaze gradually turned vacant... In the end, no one extended a helping hand. Under the gazes of the crowd, Dev's body turned completely cold.

The killer, Isley, looked at the cold corpse on the floor and smiled faintly before turning to leave as well.

No one condemned him, nor did anyone dare call out to him. At least aboard this ship, Isley had completed a transformation and become someone capable of deciding the lives of others.

Angel silently departed. He now deeply understood that wizards truly had no distinction between black and white. Good and evil meant nothing at all in their eyes.

The Silver Heron Royal Wizard Corps behind Dev had even originated from the same wizard faction as Madam Meline. Yet even so, Madam Meline had still stood by and watched him die, not even sparing him the effort of a single glance. It was clear that wizards' attitudes toward mortals were cold and cruel.

After this incident, Angel worked even harder to erase his own sense of presence. Before he possessed strength to protect himself, Death's scythe would always hang at his neck. This was reality—the naked, unvarnished reality of the wizard world.