Conflict

Above the vast and open night sky, a bright, jade-like full moon hung suspended, casting cool, silvery light that drifted down like silk threads. It fell upon the radiant faces of the crowd, who were filled with laughter and joy, imbuing them with a touch of warmth.

Every full moon, the church of the Moon Goddess Selune held a grand ceremony in the city. They distributed food to the people of the Lower City who struggled to make ends meet and provided free healing through divine magic to the impoverished, demonstrating the benevolence and glory of the Moon Goddess.

Taking advantage of the bustling, singing, and dancing crowds celebrating the full moon, Ryan and his companions wove through the throng, bypassed the alleys, and arrived at the Mages Guild without incident.

The elegant marble building of the Mages Guild remained as cold and quiet as ever, but within Ryan's magical perception, the elemental fluctuations beneath the seemingly ordinary structure were surging like a tide. Various barrier spells lay hidden, poised for action. Facing such a heavily guarded Mages Guild, Ryan felt his pressure increase significantly.

Ryan led Jelona and the others toward the main entrance. The hooded mage on guard duty saw the group approaching, reached out to stop them, and spoke in a stern voice: "Apologies, the Mages Guild is under lockdown today. If you have business, please return another day."

Ryan displayed the platinum circular badge given to him by Alexander. The guard's expression froze, and his attitude shifted instantly: "My apologies, I was unaware of your status. Please, follow me with your companions."

Ryan nodded, signaled for his companions—who were curiously eyeing the Mages Guild—to follow, and entered the interior of the guild behind the hooded mage.

The hooded mage led them through several checkpoints before arriving at a spacious, bright, and opulent hall. Seeing the mage apprentice on duty, the guard stepped forward and whispered in his ear: "Take these guests to Lord Cyrus. This mage holds the guild's platinum credential; do not slight them in any way."

Although the mage had spoken softly, the sharp-eared Jelona heard every word. Forgetting her envy of the Mages Guild's extravagant and wealthy decor, she looked in surprise at the calm and composed Ryan in front of her.

After giving instructions to the apprentice, the hooded mage turned back and apologized: "I must return to my post. He will lead you the rest of the way."

Ryan naturally didn't mind. After thanking him, he followed the apprentice leading the way. After rounding a few corners and passing through two corridors, they arrived at their destination.

"Respected sir, Lord Cyrus is... he is just inside. I won't go in. I wish you all the best." The young, green-looking apprentice was clearly nervous and uneasy in the face of such important figures.

After thanking the flustered apprentice, Ryan knocked on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in," a hoarse, aged voice sounded from behind the door.

Ryan pushed the door open, and what met his eyes was a magic circle flickering with arcane light in the center of the room. The intricately drawn, complex array occupied half of the small space, and beside it, an elderly mage with white hair was inspecting its operation.

As Ryan and his group filed in, the already small room felt even more cramped. Yet, in the solemn and oppressive atmosphere of the Mages Guild, even the most boisterous barbarian learned to be polite, remaining silent without a single complaint.

Inside the room, the old mage continued to check the magic circle unhurriedly. Seeing this, Ryan stood aside and waited quietly for the old man to finish his work. The four of them exchanged glances, decided to play it safe, and stood like four statues, staring blankly at the old mage's slow, deliberate movements.

Wiping away the final imperfection, the old mage, Cyrus, straightened his back, tapped his aching lower back, and let out a long breath. He said to the group of four: "Phew, I'm getting old. You were in a hurry, weren't you? Being in a hurry won't help. If the teleportation array isn't checked thoroughly, you won't even have the chance to be in a hurry later."

"Teleportation array?" Ryan finally found an opportunity to interject, asking curiously.

"Yes, you are the last batch. Those other little ones have already been sent over. Come in, I will send you to your destination." Cyrus didn't offer further explanation, beckoning Ryan and the others to quickly enter the area of the array.

Ryan hadn't expected this seemingly kind-hearted old gentleman to be so impatient. Urged repeatedly, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and step into the slowly glowing magic circle with his teammates.

As the array lit up, Ryan sensed waves of surging energy pouring into the formation beneath his feet. Feeling the energy accumulating, he felt as if he were standing on a volcano about to erupt. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. Just then, Ryan heard Cyrus speak again: "Forgot to remind you, teleportation can be a bit bumpy."

Ryan was completely bewildered, like a man with many questions, and was just about to speak. But the moment Cyrus finished, a brilliant light erupted before Ryan's eyes; the magic circle had activated.

As space shifted, Ryan felt as if he had been thrown into a tumble dryer, rolling and spinning along with all sorts of chaotic objects. It was as if he were a wretch caught in an eighteenth-level gale, dancing wildly with the wind. He felt as if he were traveling through deep chaos; time blurred, feeling like an instant, yet also like a hundred years. Ryan and his group were transferred directly in front of the ruins in the Sword Mountains.

Upon arrival, Ryan tapped his head, trying to regain his clarity, while using his enhanced physique to steady the dizzy Jelona. The half-elf ranger's naturally keen senses had resulted in a more profound roller-coaster experience. The usually sharp and capable ranger was now flushed, her eyes unfocused, leaning limply against Ryan. Seeing her state, Ryan figured she wouldn't recover for a while, so he could only play the gentleman and act as a human support for her to lean on.

After finally recovering from the vertigo, Ryan carefully surveyed his surroundings and found himself in a clearing surrounded by steep mountains. Not far away, a group of young mages dressed in various styles were pointing at him and the two other dazed fools still lying on the ground.

What Ryan didn't know was that he was the center of attention.

In the crowd, a gorgeously dressed youth with a hooked nose and a sinister expression stared jealously at Ryan, who had a beauty in his arms. He asked the mage beside him coldly: "What's the background of that pretty boy?"

"I know, I know. My uncle saw him in the guild meeting the Guild Master alone. He heard that he has a good teacher, which is why the Guild Master let him participate in our trial. He's just a lucky pretty boy." Beside the youth, a rather unsightly fellow said with indignation.

"Heh, he's still flirting even here. This guy is quite arrogant." The sinister youth, who already disliked the handsome and refined Ryan, became even more resentful upon hearing this.

"Boss Swick, should I go teach that kid a lesson and make him remember his place?" the same mage suggested.

Swick looked at this competent lackey and deeply felt that this guy named Spike was quite sensible, lamenting why he hadn't noticed how observant this shifty-eyed fellow was before.

Swick nodded, signaling for Spike to go and test the blond pretty boy. Despite being incredibly jealous of Ryan's arrogant display of holding a beauty, Swick maintained basic logic, silently calculating in his heart: If he really is a weakling, I don't need to be polite; if he turns out to be a tough nut to crack, it doesn't matter—I'll just throw Spike out as a scapegoat.

Receiving the signal, Spike walked forward with a swagger, shouting at Ryan, who was busy feeding hot water to Jelona: "Hey, pretty boy, listen up! Boss Swick of the Waterdeep Mages Guild has a word for you: you'd better behave yourself and don't get too cocky."

Hearing this self-destructive declaration, Swick, who was observing the situation from afar, turned dark and retracted his assessment of the guy being clever.

Ryan looked at the shifty-eyed mage's exaggerated, clownish performance, confused. Although he knew he might be targeted by the Mages Guild members—after all, charity begins at home, and his forced inclusion had snatched away a portion of the spots and potentially a large piece of the pie—it was natural for people to have opinions when their interests were touched.

However, Ryan had assumed they would use small tricks inside the ruins or obstruct his progress through side-handed means. Being cautious and low-key, he never expected them to be so blatant and aggressive before even entering the ruins. He was, after all, officially approved by Alexander himself; wasn't this slapping the Guild Master in the face? Did they not want to stay in the Waterdeep Mages Guild anymore?

Ryan looked at the unsightly, short mage's smug and arrogant expression, speechless. He felt as if he were a master player predicting five moves ahead, only to find his opponent was a total blockhead standing still on the ground floor. Ryan could only sigh helplessly in his heart: Good grief, I didn't expect to encounter such a classic provocation trope today. Is it my turn to slap his face now?

But to Ryan's surprise, seeing Ryan remain silent, Spike—thinking the pretty boy was cowardly—became even more smug. Just as he was about to spout more threats, he was called back by the dark-faced Swick behind him. Feeling unsatisfied, he gave Ryan a threatening gesture before retreating in a huff.

Ryan watched the clownish mage return to the crowd as if he had just witnessed a farce. He silently took note of the sinister youth who was clearly the mastermind, while reaching out to stop the barbarian, who had just recovered and, upon hearing the provocation, was trying to step forward to argue and curse.

He shook his head at the angry and confused barbarian, explaining calmly: "The power of words is never as memorable as the edge of a sword. There is no need to lower ourselves to curse back at them."

For those who showed him malice, Ryan was always prepared to estimate them with the deepest possible ill intent. Rather than rambling like a villain or bickering like a shrew, Ryan preferred to offer a polite farewell in front of their corpses.

Just then, a teleportation portal shimmering with brilliant blue light unfolded in the sky, and the figure of Alexander appeared in mid-air.