Chapter 230: The Wager
Seeing Sylas West like this, Fran knew his anger would finally be vented. Still, he forced a few anxious lines onto his face: "Sylas, don’t act impulsively. That’s the Star Sage—even our teacher must show him respect…"
"Hmph, Star Sage…" Sylas West snorted coldly and strode out of the tent.
Only when Sylas West had gone far did Fran allow a barely perceptible smile to surface. Salomon, oh Salomon, I’m afraid I’ll have to let you down this time…
Honestly, Salomon was just collateral damage this time.
In truth, Fran and Salomon had no real grudges—they kept a polite but distant relationship. But along the way, Fran had seen clearly: Salomon was fiercely protective of that Matthew Merlin. There was definitely more between them than met the eye. If Fran wanted to deal with Matthew Merlin, he’d first need to set a trap for Salomon. Otherwise, if Salomon called on the Star Sage to shield Matthew Merlin, all of Fran’s scheming would be for nothing.
Matthew Merlin, if you’re looking for someone to blame, blame yourself…
By now, the interrupted conversation had resumed. The leaders of the Nine Great Factions of Seaview City sat around the campfire, chatting idly about today’s battle. The mood was harmonious and friendly.
“Who is Matthew Merlin?” Yet Sylas West’s arrival shattered the mood. Known as the Flame Demon among Title Archmages, even standing silently, he exuded a suffocating pressure.
At that moment, Sylas West stood by the campfire, his cold gaze sweeping over everyone present. From start to finish, aside from asking “Who is Matthew Merlin?” he said nothing more, but the suffocating pressure he radiated made everyone feel as if they could barely breathe.
"And you are?" Matthew Merlin slowly stood up, his face expressionless, though inwardly he was on guard. From the magic pressure suffusing the camp, he sensed a distinct hostility—a hostility coming from a Title Archmage.
"I am Sylas West, from Mercury Tower."
As soon as he spoke, a chorus of gasps rose around the campfire. Flame Demon Sylas West—one of Auckland’s youngest Title Archmages, third in command at Mercury Tower. Even in distant Seaview City, his legends were well-known.
"Greetings, Lord Sylas West." Matthew Merlin, however, remained unaffected.
"You’re Matthew Merlin?" Sylas West’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Matthew. "I’ve heard you’re quite confident in your array alchemy skills. As it happens, I have some experience in that field myself. How about we make a wager?"
"Lord Sylas West, you must be joking…"
"No one’s joking with you." Sylas West’s expression barely changed, but his words were blunt: "I’ve just finished developing a new alchemical array. Let’s use this array for our wager. I’ll give you one day. If you can decipher the array within that time, I lose. Otherwise, you lose. What do you say?"
Sylas West glanced at Matthew again, then casually added, "As for the stakes—let’s say, an arm."
… The moment Sylas West made his proposal, the campfire circle fell silent.
Even when Sylas West first introduced himself, everyone had sensed hostility. Many had already guessed he was here to stand up for Fran…
No one expected this Title Archmage to be so unreasonable—demanding an arm as the wager, and all for cracking an alchemical array.
Who was Sylas West? Disciple of Nolan at Mercury Tower, he’d joined the ranks of the kingdom’s top Grandmasters years ago. The arrays he studied were at least near True Spirit level, if not higher. For a twenty-year-old Grandmaster to crack such an array—it was nothing short of outrageous.
Matthew Merlin was barely twenty. Even if he’d studied arrays since birth, that was only twenty years’ experience—how could he possibly compare to a top Grandmaster like Sylas West?
This was pure bullying!
"Lord Sylas West!" Salomon was the first to step forward. "As a disciple of Lord Nolan, isn’t it a bit much to pressure a young Grandmaster like this?"
"Oh?" For the first time, Sylas West’s gaze shifted from Matthew Merlin to Salomon, a faint smile on his lips. "You’re Salomon, Star Sage Joey’s disciple?"
"Who I’m apprenticed to doesn’t matter. What matters is, Lord Sylas West, you’re being unfair to Matthew Merlin."
"Fair? Heh, Salomon, you want to talk fairness with me?"
"Lord Sylas West…" Salomon hesitated, but suddenly a sense of danger welled up inside him. Before he could cast a protective spell, it was already too late…
Almost as soon as Sylas West finished speaking, a spark landed on Salomon’s arm. With a boom, flames erupted, and in an instant, it looked as if Salomon’s entire arm was ablaze.
Salomon’s reaction was quick. As the flames leapt up, he’d already completed the elemental arrangement for Frost Spell. In a haze of blue mist, a layer of solid ice rapidly spread across Salomon’s arm—at first only a small patch, but in the blink of an eye, it covered his entire arm.
Salomon’s response was truly swift.
However…
Just as everyone breathed a sigh of relief, another boom sounded. The flames, extinguished by the ice, suddenly burst free from its restraints. Blinding fire filled everyone’s vision—the raging flames devoured the thick ice, turning it instantly to mist.
This sudden turn chilled everyone to the bone. This was the gap between a ninth-level Archmage and a Title Archmage—seemingly a small difference, but one that was often truly insurmountable.
As a ninth-level Archmage, Salomon was almost powerless before Title Archmage Sylas West…
“Lord Sylas West, aren’t you here for a wager?” At this point, Matthew Merlin stepped forward, expression calm. Saedus—the Prime Flame Sprite—coiled lightly around Salomon’s arm, instantly devouring the blazing flames.
As a Prime Flame Sprite, Saedus was the purest fire in existence. Sylas West might be called the Flame Demon, but even a real Flame Demon would be outmatched by Saedus.
“A fine magical artifact.” After that one move, Sylas West ignored Salomon, his eyes fixed on Matthew Merlin. “So, you’re accepting my challenge?”
"Wait a moment." Matthew Merlin gently helped Salomon to sit down, then rummaged in his pocket and produced a vial of Frost Essence Potion—prepared for his campaign in the demon plane, specifically to counter Abyssal Blueflame. Using it for Salomon’s minor burns was a bit of overkill.
But right now, there was no time to worry about that…
Though Salomon’s help had always come with strings attached, Matthew Merlin knew it was just Salomon paving the way for Sage’s Spire. And those favors had truly helped—without Salomon, Matthew might have made it this far, but the journey would have been much harder.
After drinking the Frost Essence Potion, Salomon’s complexion improved, and the burns on his arm healed at a visibly rapid pace.
After a thorough check to make sure Salomon’s injuries weren’t serious, Matthew Merlin slowly stood up. He gave Sylas West a long, strange look before finally asking, “Lord Sylas West, are you certain you want to wager an arm?”
“What, are you scared? Looks like you’re not as confident in your alchemy as you pretend. But it’s too late to be afraid now, Matthew Merlin—the wager is an arm, whether you like it or not. There’s no changing it.”
“No…” Matthew Merlin shook his head helplessly. “I mean, Lord Sylas West, how about two arms?”
“Eh?” Sylas West was briefly stunned, staring at Matthew Merlin for a long moment before suddenly bursting into laughter. “Good, good, good—Matthew Merlin, you really are confident in your alchemy…”
Heh…
After laughing, Sylas West pulled a scroll from his pocket. “This alchemical array is my latest creation. I’ll give you one day to break it. If you fail, you’ll leave both arms behind.”
Matthew Merlin took the scroll and examined it. Sure enough, it was an alchemical array nearing True Spirit level, with nearly a third of its techniques reaching Creator-class. If he’d faced this array a day earlier, it would have given him a headache.
But now, it was too late…
“One day? Heh…” Matthew Merlin chuckled, spreading the scroll out by the campfire and fishing a quill from his pocket. After searching for a while, he realized he’d run out of Meltwater Ink, so he turned to Sylas West. “Excuse me, Lord Sylas West, could I borrow some Meltwater Ink?”
“Take it.” Sylas West frowned, but finally fished a vial of Meltwater Ink from his pocket and tossed it over.
The entire camp fell silent. Apart from the crackling of the fire, the only sound was the soft scratch of the quill on parchment. Everyone held their breath, afraid to disturb the young Grandmaster.
No one noticed the streak of fire crossing the sky…
Except for Fran…
"Why is Caron here!"