A long silence.
But the old man seemed very patient, waiting for Yordel's answer without the slightest impatience.
At last, the secret guard's voice came from behind the mask.
"You shouldn't be here." Yordel's tone was cold.
If anyone had been present, they would have noticed that Yordel's hoarse voice sounded remarkably similar to that of the old man before him.
The old man in black said nothing. He merely watched Yordel with a strange smile.
The old man's eyes did not move at all.
Yet as an Extreme Realm Expert at the pinnacle, Yordel could feel the old man's aura gradually overpowering his own.
"That night, the three and a half pieces of Legendary Anti-Magic Weaponry in the kingdom capable of sealing Magic Users all had their own destinations." The old man in black tapped his cane, bared his teeth, and slowly began, "The Star Scepter is a symbol of Royal Authority, forever held in His Majesty's hands... The Judgment Gun is wielded by Wing of Legend, guarding the Western Front... Wrath of the Kingdom was at a manor outside the city, wiping down his Immobile Bow... As for the other half, the Supreme Shield, it remained at Dragonbreak Fortress in the north with Flower of the Fortress herself."
Yordel quietly drew in a breath.
"Only the final half—the Supreme Sword, which had only recently thawed—went with you, Yordel Gatu, to the Lower City District."
"That was also the night the Air Elementalist disappeared on Red Quarter, at the junction of the Lower City District and the West Ring District."
The old man bared his teeth again, his smile ugly. "I should have praised you. The last recorded feat of someone sealing a Magic User alone dates back to the Ancient Empire."
Yordel's hand beneath his sleeve slowly tightened around the dull-gray short sword with the Cross Guard.
"But..." Morat's pupils contracted, and his tone abruptly changed.
"You went to receive the Bloodline of the Kingdom. You should have been lying low and carrying out a covert operation. Why risk your life to confront the Air Elementalist directly and seal him?"
"Don't tell me you wanted to become an emissary of justice."
Yordel remained silent for a long time.
The old man grew somewhat impatient. The wrinkles on his face shifted as he said, "Or should I report to His Majesty and have him ask you personally?"
After a long while.
Facing one of the five most feared people in all of Star Kingdom, Yordel took a deep breath and spoke calmly in the same hoarse voice.
"That night, I saw Echeida Sackern on Red Quarter. At the time, he was... on Tales's escape route."
The old man in black continued staring without blinking, as though the news meant nothing.
But no one knew that, at that moment, Yordel was choosing his words with extraordinary care.
"For Tales, I had no choice but to act."
"Although the Supreme Sword was only half a weapon, it was enough to seal the Air Elementalist."
The old man in black coughed softly twice. A sharp gleam suddenly flashed from his eyes in his ordinary-looking face.
"I assume you don't mind telling me every detail from before he was sealed? From his words to his emotions, from his movements to his attitude? I'm very curious why Echeida wanted to return to the Royal Capital, a place so dangerous for him."
Yordel quietly clenched his fist beneath his robe.
He had to be careful.
He was facing the "Black Prophet."
He could not lie.
He could not.
"Echeida Sackern was a madman." Yordel's tone was calm.
The old man—the Black Prophet—chuckled. The wrinkles on his face rippled. "Of course. Every one of them is a madman. So what? Even a madman should have words and actions, shouldn't he?"
"Before he was sealed, he was extremely excited." Yordel considered his wording and answered slowly.
The old man stroked his cane, his withered lips opening and closing. "You can never fathom their emotions... They aren't human anymore, so where would emotions come from?"
This nonsense won't distract him... Yordel thought.
Yordel hesitated for a second before making his decision.
He had to speak.
He had to.
"He said..." Yordel's hoarse voice slowly came from behind the mask.
"He had found a newly born Magic User."
The earliest recorded appearance of Magic Users in history occurred around a thousand years into the Ancient Empire, approximately between Imperial Calendar 825 and 835.
Imperial Calendar year one thousand? From the Ancient Empire to the Final Empire, the Imperial Calendar had been used for more than fifteen hundred years before it changed to the End Era. This year was End Era 672.
Tales recalled the basic knowledge he had learned over the past few days.
In other words, Magic Users had first appeared more than thirteen hundred years ago?
But this did not seem like a good time for him to lose himself in thought.
On the sandy ground beneath the setting sun, Tales gritted his teeth. Ignoring the ache in his left shoulder, his seven-year-old body hefted a heavy wooden shield and charged into Jinnie!
According to the surviving fragments of Ascetic's Tower: A merchant caravan heading to Alchemist's Tower witnessed a giant bolt of lightning far larger than normal. That same day, a tribe a hundred miles from War God Desert had been reduced entirely to thousands of charred corpses.
Lightning?
Then why was the Air Elementalist's ability control over air?
The Fantastic Four? Or an Elementalist?
Jinnie moved without changing expression. At a clever angle, the wooden shield in her left hand slammed into Tales's shield.
"Bang!"
Most of the force behind Tales's impact was deflected. His entire body lost balance and tilted unnaturally toward the side where his shield had fallen.
Tales gasped for breath, leaning on his sword as he steadied himself, his heart uneasy.
Jinnie saw Tales's condition.
She began scolding the boy with a cold expression. "What are you thinking about? Being absentminded on a battlefield is suicide!"
Tales shook his head, desperately trying to drive out what he had seen in Chronicles of the Ending War: Heaven-Shattering Earth-Rending.
But it seemed useless. Information about Magic Users continued surfacing in his mind.
Alchemist's Tower remained as mysterious as ever and had offered no explanation. Even now, no written historical records of theirs could be found, and the surviving historical records of the Ancient Empire contained no mention of the matter. Yet this was enough to foreshadow the brutality of the later Ending War.
What were Ascetic's Tower and Alchemist's Tower? Organizations, or place names?
Using the shield's center of gravity, Tales desperately swung the wooden sword in his right hand, nearly as heavy as the shield itself. Grimacing, he spun around and slashed!
The war began in Imperial Calendar 1509, yet no historical material could prove what had caused the Ending War to begin. It was as if, overnight, both hostile sides had suddenly taken their places at opposite ends of a chessboard and begun slaughtering one another.
Why? Why could a war that changed everything not even have its beginning clearly recorded?
Jinnie moved aside effortlessly, letting the incoming blade pass. She gave Tales's already unbalanced body a gentle push from behind with her sword hilt.
Gilbert, watching from the side, shook his head.
"Thud!"
Tales fell to the ground again, landing face-first and eating a mouthful of sand.
Pff.
Tales spat out the sand in his mouth, then laboriously dragged his shield aside and stood up.
"Enough!" Jinnie shouted unhappily.
"Of the seven attack forms, you've only learned the shape. You're nowhere near as efficient as you were when learning the defensive forms—"
"If you're not an idiot—"
"Then it means you had absolutely no intention of practicing today!"
Tales panted and nodded with shame and apology.
"I'm sorry, Lady Jinnie..."
Magic Users were even rarer than the legendary Dragon Horde. At least forty dragons with recorded names had appeared throughout history, while only ten Magic Users had publicly appeared and participated in the Ending War.
Ten?
Ten people against the entire world?
"Boy!"
Seeing that Tales was still absentminded, Jinnie angrily threw down her shield and wooden sword. "Class dismissed! Get up at six tomorrow morning and make up today's progress!"
Gilbert frowned. He had no idea what was wrong with Tales either.
On the training ground, Jinnie turned and called to Earl of Caso.
"Before dinner, he's yours. Fix him up and return him to me in proper shape!"
Gilbert smiled, tipped his hat, and bowed.
Tales dejectedly dropped his wooden sword and began dealing with his left arm—his hand had gotten caught in the shield again.
Even so, despite the many followers they possessed, it was the single-digit number of Magic Users who had truly caused the allied forces' massive casualties. The most famous record concerned the Wailing Mountains battlefield in the eastern theater in May of Imperial Calendar 1514. The eight-thousand-strong pilgrim army of the Mountain Elves, which had been winning battle after battle, and nearly fifty thousand heavily armed black-armored troops of the Morningstar Dynasty were annihilated overnight after the Authority Elementalist appeared.
The Authority Elementalist? Authority?
A single person against fifty-eight thousand.
What kind of power could cause such destruction?
It was practically comparable to an atomic bomb.
Could Echeida do that too?
Just then.
Jinnie, her expression sour, rubbed her palms as she prepared to leave. But she saw a grim-looking guard walk up and whisper a few words into Gilbert's ear.
The next moment, Tales was astonished to see Gilbert's expression suddenly turn surprised—and then worried, even fearful.
Could even Earl of Caso, who had undergone extensive diplomatic training and was usually neither elated nor humiliated, with neither joy nor anger showing on his face, feel worry and fear?
While Tales was still puzzled, Gilbert called Jinnie over and spoke gravely.
"His Majesty has sent word."
"Lord Morat Hansen will visit Mindis Hall tonight."
"He wants to see Mr. Tales."
Morat Hansen?
Who was that?
Then Tales was surprised to see the expression of Jinnie, the first-ranking court Female Official and Kessel the Fifth's lover, change as well.
It was shock, worry, and...
Grating her teeth?
"He'll come sooner or later." Jinnie's eyes turned icy, her voice frosted over.
"To face the royal bloodline and the succession to the Star throne."
"The head of the Kingdom Secret Bureau, the 'Black Prophet,' Morat."
"How could he possibly not come and meddle in it?"
The old man in black—the "Black Prophet," Morat Hansen—said nothing more.
For the first time, Yordel saw shock in the eyes of Morat, who was always so mysterious and strange.
And...
Fear?
"A newly born... Magic User?"
Morat's voice faltered. He took an incredulous step backward, then abruptly raised his head!
It worked, Yordel silently told himself.
Morat knew too many secrets, including the secrets of Magic Users.
But precisely because he knew too much, he was more easily distracted by these matters.
That caused him to overlook what Yordel truly wanted to conceal: the communication between Tales and Echeida.
Like now.
"Impossible. The birth of a Magic User requires..." Morat's face was full of shock. He gripped his cane tightly and stared fixedly at Yordel's mask, as if he intended to see through the layer of purple resin crystal.
"Who?" Morat's gaze was almost frantic.
"Who is the newly born Magic User?"
Morat stared at his son like a venomous snake, his pupils contracting violently.
"You know how serious this is!" Morat's brows drew tightly together, his gaze focused and his breathing quickening. His grip on the cane tightened further. "A new Magic User must be dealt with... before it..."
Yordel regulated his breathing. Breathing—a movement effortless for an Extreme Realm Expert—was incredibly difficult at this moment.
It.
It?
The image of the black-haired, gray-eyed boy gradually became clear.
"They're staying here with you... I'll leave by myself." The stubborn boy's words from Sunset Tavern, along with his resolute gaze, faintly surfaced before his eyes.
Yordel quietly clenched his fist.
Morat slowly narrowed his eyes.
"Echeida didn't mention his name. He probably doesn't know it either."
Yordel carefully selected the most truthful information and slowly arranged it into words. "Then Echeida was sealed by me."
He truly did not know Tales's name—Yordel told himself. I didn't lie.
Morat said nothing.
The old man merely watched Yordel with a strange look in his eyes.
Several seconds later, Morat finally looked away.
"Good. You didn't lie." The old man spoke with certainty, his eyes filled with extreme gravity.
"But that's also bad, because you truly didn't lie." Morat's face darkened as he added this.
Yordel felt relieved.
I got past him.
"Now, by His Majesty's command, let's go meet that Mr. Tales." Morat suppressed the gloom and gravity in his expression. An ugly, frightening smile once more spread across his face as he walked toward Mindis Hall.
Yordel's breathing abruptly caught.
Morat rubbed his cane, turned his head, and grinned, baring the few teeth he had left.
"About the truth behind the Red Quarter, you shouldn't mind if I ask that child in person again—about this so-called newly awakened Magic User?"
"Don't misunderstand me. It's just professional habit, for example—"
"—to see whether you're hiding anything?"
Yordel abruptly raised his head!
Morat's grin grew even wider.