The Sculptor, Lars Graham

Avalon, White Queen District.

It was a rather plain-looking building, more like a warehouse than a residence.

In fact, this is Lars Graham's Sculpture Studio.

He stood hunched over, holding a bone-white cane, intently looking up at a two-and-a-half-meter-tall stone sculpture whose upper body was almost complete.

White, translucent chisels and hammers appeared in the air, emitting crisp, rhythmic tapping sounds. The dense, relentless tapping was reminiscent of a torrential downpour. Without the old man making any movement, the sculpture was carved out at an astonishing speed, as if a video had been fast-forwarded.

Lars Graham is 74 years old this year.

The old man's eyes were deeply sunken, his eyelids purplish and shriveled, and his dark face was covered with wrinkles. His thin, dull white curly hair had almost completely thinned out, leaving only a wisp of hair. Perhaps due to the lamplight, the shadows in his cloudy brown pupils appeared somewhat yellowish. For Master Graham, simply raising his head, or even just opening his eyes, was already a great effort.

Today, the former art master has aged and withered to the point of being a thin shadow.

It's the kind of feeling where once you fall asleep, you might never wake up again.

The silk robe he wore was so intricately patterned, it resembled a Persian carpet—primarily in shades of dark yellow, black, and red, with a multitude of elaborate and intricate patterns that would dazzle the eye at first glance. Very few could pull off this style of clothing; it was so opulent that it would inevitably overshadow the wearer, no matter how beautiful or handsome they were.

But this was just right for Lars Graham.

His entire body resembled a withering flower, collapsing inward. He was hunched over, his shoulders were rounded, his head was bowed, and his legs were bent... his legs were even thinner than a girl's arms. The body wrapped in that magnificent robe seemed not to be a real flesh, but merely an empty shell containing a soul.

That posture evokes the image of Dryleaf Butterfly with its wings trembling slightly in a downpour.

Suddenly, the carving sound stopped abruptly.

The sound of the chisel striking the stone statue still seemed to echo faintly in my ears, like a hallucination.

The old man didn't turn around or look back, but said in a low, slow, hissing voice, "What are you doing here... Chloe?"

As his voice faded, a beautiful and artistic young woman suddenly emerged from the shadows behind him.

Chloe was covered in wounds and dust. Her entire body was almost a bloody mess, with some of the flesh even charred and blackened.

But in reality, these injuries are only scary to look at; they only look terrible on the outside, like she'd rolled around on a metal plate. The internal parts are almost completely healed, or at least have stopped deteriorating. Even her right arm, which was almost severed, has been reattached and is almost completely healed.

"Dean Graham, I've come here to get some herbs."

Chloe's voice was dry and hoarse. "It would be even better if there was some to drink... The whole city is almost under martial law, so I don't dare go to their herbal shop to buy herbs. But it's still a little short of curing him."

She called him Dean because Graham was the current Vice Dean of the Cite University Art Institute. Although he had been invited to Avalon to sculpt icons for the Queen, he had not relinquished his position as Dean.

"The herbs are in the cabinet on your left."

The old man sighed, and with great effort, leaning on his cane, he turned around, taking one slow and deliberate step after another.

A cold and ruthless third eye appeared on his forehead, its jade pupil indifferently sweeping over Chloe.

"The injury isn't too serious, Miss Caramel."

The old man chuckled, his tone ambiguous, whether he was being sarcastic or gloating. "Compared to the trouble you've caused, your injuries are nothing."

"That's because I've used up all my life-saving items!"

She gritted her teeth and said resentfully, "I still don't understand... how did Moriarty guess that I was in there?"

As Chloe spoke, she searched through the herb cabinet, which was taller than herself, pulling out the necessary herb drawers and dumping all the herbs inside onto the table.

That's definitely not a "single dose," but a massive amount that would be absolutely harmful to a normal person and could last for at least ten days. Even if it were cooked into a dish, it might not be finished in a single day.

But Chloe wolfed down all the herbs.

Without the need for decoction or extraction, the medicinal power contained within the herbs was extracted and purified through Path of Adaptation. Soon, her wounds began to emit a hazy green light, and they healed slowly at a visible rate.

It's like the effect of using these herbs continuously for more than ten days under normal circumstances has been condensed into just a few minutes.

This is a technique of "Herbal Therapy" that is only effective for oneself.

Chloe's wounds healed even faster than she consumed the herbs. By the time she had finished all the herbs, her horrific injuries were almost completely healed.

Then she began to vomit violently, expelling clumps of black sludge mixed with bits of flesh and a putrid stench.

It was a mixture of herbs whose medicinal properties had been extracted and waste products generated during the body's accelerated healing process. After vomiting, Chloe's spirits improved significantly.

"... Ah, he's alive again."

Chloe breathed a sigh of relief and quickly said to Graham behind her, "Dean Graham, I'll help clean these up later!"

The old man ignored her, merely glancing at her expressionlessly before walking to his table, leaning on his bone-white cane.

Chloe quickly went over and poured Graham a glass of water.

Old Graham glanced at her and said slowly, "Is there anything else?"

"I just want to get revenge, to vent my anger before I leave... so I'd like to ask you for advice."

Chloe snorted coldly. She was clearly still somewhat unconvinced... mainly because the assets she had lost were painful for her.

"Let me just remind you, Chloe, that the task the Society gave you has been completed."

Graham, holding his water glass, drawled in Iris Language, "If I were you, I would immediately hide in the countryside. I would return home as soon as things calm down a bit."

"They can't catch me."

After being hunted for several days, Chloe was clearly full of confidence. "The inspectors of the Path of Authority are much dumber than the extraordinary beings of the Path of Love and Beauty. This time I will plan more carefully, and lie in ambush where Iver sleeps in advance, without eating or drinking, for a day or two. I will definitely succeed."

"In my opinion, this is more like a trap."

The old man took a sip of water and said quietly, "You're too arrogant, Miss Chloe. Although you reached the Fourth Level at the age of twenty-four, you haven't officially entered the Fifth Level yet. Without completing the advancement ceremony, there are still many people in Avalon who can deal with you."

"The Grand Arbitrator, the Grand Adjudicator, the Grand Guardian, the Grand Justice, plus Master Agnes of the Theocracy. There are at least five extraordinary individuals who have been confirmed to have reached the Fifth Level and are willing to serve the royal family. If you encounter any one of them, you will definitely not be able to escape."

"Not only that, but even the Arbitration Hall didn't mobilize. Those with the Arbitration Authority can only exert their full Path of Authority in Avalon... A knight without power, possessing only honor, poses little threat. Your reckless actions suggest you've strayed from the Path of Adaptation. I will report this to the leader upon my return."

Who could have known that this student, whom I had taught for a semester and who could never grasp the Path of Beauty, would now be thriving after switching to Path of Adaptation?

However, her overly smooth advancement and unbroken assassinations have caused her mentality to become somewhat unbalanced.

Such a high-profile approach is not in line with the principles advocated by the Path of Adaptation. This is also why her strength has begun to stagnate.

"... Does the Dean mean that you no longer oppose my actions?"

Chloe was pleasantly surprised to see that her former superior did not object to the matter.

She flashed a sweet, obedient smile and flattered, "You're a 'master' too. We're both extraordinary individuals at the Fifth Level of the artistic path, but Master Agnes took over two hundred years to become a master, while you became a 'master' in less than forty years..."

"Heh heh... It's no use, I'm not falling for that."

But the old man just chuckled softly, "Let me make this clear beforehand, no matter how close you get to success, I won't intervene. I've taken on a more important mission that I can't afford to expose. Besides, Yanis is monitoring me, so I can't make a move."

"Just in case, I'll ask you one more question... where do you plan to ambush us?"

"I haven't thought about it yet. What's his family like?" Chloe asked casually.

"—Don't go there."

Old Graham denied it without hesitation. "His butler, Oswald, is dangerous."

Does he have Fifth Level?

"It's hard to say, but it's very possible. Oswald doesn't have a 'profession'; instead, he inherited the old system used by those ancient immortals before the emergence of 'professions.' His path is completely mixed and unsystematic, with his power mixed across multiple paths, and the trajectory he displays is not clear. No one knows which paths he is adaptable to or what powers he has mastered."

"But based on the abilities he has shown so far, he possesses at least the Fourth Level of Path of Adaptation power. Moreover, elves are knowledgeable and experienced, and he most likely knows about Shadow Stealth stealth. You will surely die if you go there."

The old man stared at Chloe with his merciless and sarcastic gaze, like a critic examining the work of another, speaking in a strangely halting, melodious voice. "If you are ever captured alive... I will kill you."

"Now, I'll say it again. Where are you going to ambush us?"

"... Hmm."

She was somewhat surprised that the Elf Butler was so powerful.

"That means he has to be outside. Although I haven't read the Avalon newspapers, I'm sure he's become famous. If I were to assassinate him, it would definitely be big news."

Chloe replied briskly, "To give me time to escape, this must be done discreetly. So I must kill him quickly where no one can find me, and also allow enough time to escape..."

"My suggestion is that you go to the White Shoes Club again now. Go and see his Commendation Ceremony," the old man replied.

"... But it's almost five o'clock already?"

"It's alright. He's attending the commendation ceremony of the Bureau of Supervision this afternoon, and even without a banquet, he won't be back until at least 5:30. Considering the long journey, he won't get back to the dormitory until 6 or 7 at the earliest. If there's a banquet, he might be back two or three hours later... and he might even have a few drinks."

"According to my intelligence, someone attempted to assassinate him this afternoon... Just two hours ago, two Demon Scholar from the Noble Red Society infiltrated the Royal Law University. The statue of the Great Man at the school gate has already told me this. They are not weak, but I think their assassination attempt will definitely fail. The methods used to guard against you can be used against the Noble Red Society. Because they certainly know you are still alive."

"Conversely, you can also observe Iver's methods and trump cards."

Although he disagreed with the careless plan proposed by the young assassin codenamed "Caramel," the old man still offered sound advice based on his extensive assassination experience from his youth, "There is no better opportunity to assassinate than this."

"He has dealt with the enemy who wanted to kill him and received an honor that is almost impossible for someone his age to obtain. He must be feeling relaxed and proud. After that, you should go directly to his dormitory and ambush him."

"After he finishes his social engagements, he will be tired, and a full meal will make him sleepy, while alcohol will make him lethargic. You can even apply the poison ointment directly to his lips without using ' Eagle Feather,' and he will die of poisoning in his sleep. That way, no one will realize that the cause of his death is poisoning in the first place... and you will have plenty of time to escape Glass Island."

"As expected of the dean!"

Chloe readily agreed, "Then I'll do it that way!"