No matter how slowly Rute's party flew, the road always grew shorter.
The Sia Tower stood there; it would not retreat because they advanced.
So, no matter how unwilling they were, that Mage Tower soaring into the clouds entered everyone's sight.
Sitting in his own flying vessel and watching Oliva grow uneasy because of Aislin's continued silence, Rute could only sigh softly. "As for Aislin, as long as she doesn't do anything, treat her as if she's still Aislin."
"Master?" Oliva asked in surprise. "But she..."
"Her situation is complicated—so complicated that even I can't interfere." Rute spoke decisively... Oliva's brain was better off not dwelling on such complicated matters. He would only make things more troublesome. "If you don't want to be dragged into a conflict between great figures that even I dare not provoke, stay away from her. Understand?"
"Yes, Master." Oliva quickly lowered his head. A thin mist of tears appeared in his eyes, then vanished just as quickly... His Eighth Ring was nothing like Aislin's. He had advanced to become a genuine Eighth-Circle Mage through his own talent and effort.
So although he had always seemed a little slow-witted, there were still some things he could see clearly... He simply did not want to see them clearly.
Such as Aislin's ongoing silence.
His refusal to ask about it did not mean he could not see that something was wrong.
His personality had never allowed him to take the initiative like Aislin. Asking that tentative question just now had already been the greatest effort he could make.
Unfortunately, Rute had mercilessly cut off his probing.
That completely extinguished the last faint hope Oliva had held onto.
He understood very well that compared to him, the senior brother who had shared so many conflicts and ugly entanglements with