Chapter 1327
"Where is that alchemist who narrowly escaped death?"
Farrow froze, his face shifting as if a sudden realization had struck him.
"At the count's estate..."
"Investigate. Look into the partners who came to the Gilded Rose for returns, and those among them with notable strength. Add in these nobles—find what connects them all."
After giving these instructions, a glimmer of delight flashed in Leon's eyes. He threw one last remark to Farrow before turning and stepping into the demi-plane.
"Business at the Gilded Rose continues as usual. Whoever comes to return goods, refund them all—but keep a record of the names, and track down the mastermind behind this."
Stepping into the demi-plane, Leon immediately spotted Lord Shaun, the Wraithwalker, who had been trapped in a deep sleep. Now, Shaun floated in midair, shrouded in tendrils of shadowy light.
Lord Shaun's eyes remained closed, but the Eye of Calamity at his brow was wide open, its dark radiance flickering without pause. Even the swirling shadows around his body kept streaming into that single eye.
Suddenly, Leon's expression changed. He took out the ring that had once served as Lord Shaun's vessel, only to find its surface aglow. With each pulse of light, the link between ring and Wraithwalker faded, until it vanished altogether.
Lord Shaun has broken free from the relic? Has he shed his Relic Spirit form?
A flash of delight crossed Leon's eyes, and he immediately channeled a surge of mana into Lord Shaun's body.
In an instant, Lord Shaun's transformation accelerated wildly. In just over ten seconds, he had devoured at least a hundred bottles of Mana Water, and the light around him vanished in a blink.
A giant wolf, five meters long and two meters tall, appeared in the sky.
"Hahaha! Lord Shaun is finally free! No more being some damn Relic Spirit..."
Lord Shaun floated in midair, laughing heartily. The Eye of Calamity at his brow pulsed with concentric halos, as if it gazed straight into the heart of fate—making anyone who looked feel deeply unsettled.
"Lord Shaun, you forget—the contract you signed was with me, not the relic..."
Leon's calm voice echoed in Lord Shaun's ear. Instantly, Shaun's grin froze, and he floated down from midair, utterly dejected.
"Damn it, I really regret it. Should've scared you off back then—otherwise I wouldn't have dug this grave for myself..."
Back then, Lord Shaun personally crafted the contract at the highest level, but Leon saw through the trick. In the end, Shaun trapped himself, and now there's no way to change it...
Leon smiled at Lord Shaun. Breaking free from his Relic Spirit form was definitely a blessing for him.
Now that the relic's shackles were gone, Lord Shaun—as a true Wraithwalker—could keep advancing, no longer bound by the artifact.
Having fused the Eye of Catastrophe and the Eye of Misfortune, the single eye at his brow had evolved into the Eye of Calamity. With Lord Shaun's own power, it was a disaster incarnate.
With a massive influx of mana and freedom from the relic, Lord Shaun's accumulated strength finally erupted after fusing the Eye of Calamity, allowing him to break through to Sky Rank.
With Lord Shaun's abilities and the Eye of Calamity, even fresh into Sky Rank, he could toy with a Sky Rank Level 2 mage—if Shaun caught an opening, his prey was doomed.
Leon had planned something else, but after Lord Shaun's breakthrough and escape from the relic, he changed his mind. He took Shaun out of the demi-plane, quietly flying over a thousand kilometers to a count's estate in a small town.
Lord Shaun looked thoroughly disgruntled, but he followed Leon anyway, knowing this wasn’t the moment for mischief. A faint shimmer of mana appeared, then faded, replaced by a whisper of soul power.
A veil of power enveloped Leon and Lord Shaun. Once inside the heavily fortified count’s estate, the defenses were meaningless to them—like air, utterly ineffective.
They followed the path into the count’s mansion. The alchemical arrays lining the way were useless, and the three-headed guard hounds—descendants of Hellhounds, said to detect any living thing—acted as if Leon and Lord Shaun were invisible.
After circling around a few times, they finally found their mark—the so-called lucky alchemist who had survived the Gilded Rose attack.
The moment Leon laid eyes on him, a flicker of surprise crossed his gaze.
He claimed his left chest had been pierced, but since his heart wasn’t there, he survived. Leon had thought it was just a tired excuse, but it turned out to be true—this man had a hint of elven blood, and his heart sat in the center of his chest, not the left.
Leon stood quietly outside the window, watching. Inside, the alchemist looked perfectly healthy, no sign of injury at all. Over thirty dishes crowded the table, and a smiling mage sat across from him.
"Sir John, how’s the speech coming for tomorrow? Whether the other nobles join the fight against the Gilded Rose depends on your words. The count went to great lengths to get you a platform in the heart of Neverwinter’s commercial district..."
The alchemist’s face glowed with health as he laughed and waved dismissively.
"Don’t worry, Steward. I’m ready. Tomorrow, as promised, I’ll make sure the Gilded Rose’s reputation is ruined for good."
"He’s just an outsider from Greendale. With the count’s personal attention, they’re finished."
"We’ve signed a contract—I’ll see it done, you can count on me."
Leon listened outside the window for a while, his eyes narrowing to slits.
A count? This particular count wasn’t one of Odin Kingdom’s original noble families—just a mage family with a personal title, not true nobility. Why would someone like that go to such lengths to smear the Gilded Rose?
Would he really bother with something so thankless unless there was enough profit in it?
Leon stood quietly outside the window for half an hour, piecing things together. This alchemist had always worked under the count, only taking a job at a small alchemy shop to frame the Gilded Rose.
A master-level alchemist working in a low-tier shop?
A speech tomorrow? And he’s signed a harsh contract too?
Once the steward had left, Leon glanced at Lord Shaun, who now stood palm-sized on his shoulder.
Lord Shaun looked thoroughly displeased.
"Just the soul of a titled Archmage, and a fool bound by a soul contract. Boring..."
As he spoke, the Eye of Calamity on Lord Shaun's brow snapped open. A beam of light, utterly undetectable, struck the alchemist from behind...
"Let’s go. That guy’s finished tomorrow—just wait and enjoy the show..."
Leon glanced at the alchemist with a trace of pity. A Level 1 titled Archmage struck by Lord Shaun’s Sky Rank Eye of Calamity—misfortune and disaster would cling to him, as if fate itself had abandoned him. Death might have been kinder...
Leon turned to leave, retracing his steps. But as he neared the back door, he suddenly spotted a burly man in white robes with a black headband.
Trailing behind the burly man was the steward from earlier...
A flicker of doubt flashed through Leon's eyes.
That outfit was unmistakably from the Stoneland Kingdom—specifically, the desert regions.
Showing up at the count’s estate in the dead of night, sneaking in through the back door? If that’s not suspicious, I’ll eat my hat...
Leon was about to get closer when the burly man suddenly glanced his way, a hint of confusion in his eyes.
"Lord Reynolds, is something wrong?"
"Oh, it’s nothing..."
Once the burly man had left, Lord Shaun finally spoke up to explain.
"That burly man carries a rare soul artifact. I nearly got caught—his soul is shielded by the artifact, so if I try to glimpse it, he’ll notice immediately."
Back in Neverwinter, Leon made a note to have Faro pay closer attention to the Stoneland Kingdom’s faction.
The next day, at the heart of Neverwinter’s commercial district—the busiest spot in the city—the Gilded Rose stood proudly.
A tall platform had been erected in the center of the street. Crowds gathered around, since only the wealthiest shops could afford such a display for a major announcement. Renting a platform here cost a fortune.
At noon, when the crowds peaked, the alchemist named John climbed onto the platform, his face pale as a ghost.
"Many of you wonder who I am, and why I stand here. My name is John, and I am an alchemist from the Mage’s Hut..."
John stood on the platform, dramatically recounting how the Mage’s Hut bought fake Universal Cores, how it was destroyed, and how he survived. He even pulled back his shirt to reveal a fist-sized scar on his left chest...
Leon sat by the window atop the Gilded Rose, quietly watching the alchemist’s impassioned speech.
"That guy’s about to get really unlucky..."
Lord Shaun hugged a bottle of Mana Water, sipping it contentedly like a drink...
On the platform, John’s speech had reached its final crescendo. His pale face was now flushed, his voice nearly a shout—his emotions running wild.
"...I must speak out! I’ll expose the ugly truth behind the Gilded Rose!"
If I ruin the Gilded Rose, I can start a new life—ten million violet coins, two shops, and a future in southern Odin Kingdom.
Luckily, I have a touch of elven blood—my heart is in the center of my chest. This quirk saved my life eighty years ago, and now it’s about to bring me a fortune.
Hahaha! I single-handedly ruined a giant like the Gilded Rose. What an achievement! That foolish boss at the Mage’s Hut thought I was just a regular alchemist, only a Magus.
Idiots! He died with such a look of disbelief—never guessed I was a titled Archmage, and a Grandmaster, no less...
My speech is done—the count’s deal fulfilled..."
At first, the crowd was shocked and outraged by John’s words, swept up in his emotion. But as he neared the end, his last remarks left everyone dumbstruck—staring blankly at the platform.
John’s expression suddenly shifted, as if he’d just realized something was wrong—like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
"...No, no, you’ve misunderstood! That wasn’t me talking—damn it, I’m being controlled..."