Chapter 1347
This sort of situation was perfectly normal for a herb garden. Lord Shaun shrank to palm-size and perched on Leon's shoulder, his body covered in purple fur, making him look just like a violet-backed wolf pup.
"Leon, over here..."
Lord Shaun's eyes flickered as he gazed at the faint mist, seeming to have discovered something. But before he could finish his sentence, Leon interrupted him.
"Lord Shaun, are you still interested in something entertaining? Things that suit your taste are pretty rare..."
With just that one line, Lord Shaun immediately shut his mouth and pretended he hadn't seen anything.
Leon continued to stroll forward at a leisurely pace. Inside the manor, all the other guests had already arrived.
The heads of the three herb cultivating families were present. None of them were particularly strong—just Sky Rank, Level 2. These families, specializing in growing magical herbs, didn't hold high status in the Odin Kingdom. In fact, they ranked below some mage families dedicated to commerce. Still, while the profits from herb cultivation couldn't compare to alchemical potions, they never had to worry about finding buyers.
An alchemy shop always had to worry about competition, but the herb cultivating families didn’t—any number of alchemy shops would buy their herbs. These families were quite wealthy, and with enough money, it was entirely possible to pile up a bunch of powerful mages. There were plenty of Title Archmages among them, but Sky Rank powerhouses were rare.
After all, no Sky Rank powerhouse was ever built purely by piling up resources...
Their status might not be high, but they were absolutely essential. Right now, the three great magical herb families in the manor were basically the largest suppliers around Neverwinter City. There were some families who grew higher-grade herbs, but none could match them in quantity or scope.
Inside the manor's castle, a huge table was covered with all kinds of delicacies and fine wine. The heads of the three families sat there expressionless.
Wyatt Rodney of the Rodney Family sat there with a dark expression, while Reynolds from the Roosevelt Trading Consortium looked puzzled, sitting perfectly still.
A few minutes later, Wyatt was the first to lose patience.
"You lot—why did you invite me here? Damn it, am I supposed to just sit around and watch you waste time? If you've got something to discuss, you'd better hurry up. I don't have time to waste on you foolish groundhogs."
"Yesterday you mentioned a new herb that can be cultivated and mass-produced—what is it? Still not going to tell me? Are you testing my patience, or challenging the dignity of the Rodney Family?"
Wyatt slammed the table, roaring in anger. But the three family heads across from him remained expressionless, until one of them turned and regarded Wyatt with a calm look.
"Lord Wyatt, negotiations will begin once everyone is present. There are four rare herbs that previously could only be gathered in the wild, but now all can be mass-produced. If you're too impatient, Lord Wyatt, you're free to leave."
Wyatt gritted his teeth and sat back down. As the head of a family specializing in alchemical potions, he understood all too well what it meant for four rare wild herbs to become mass-producible—the profits involved were enormous.
Rare herbs are called rare for a reason: they're nearly impossible to cultivate or mass-produce, or if you do manage to grow them, they never reach their proper potency. Except in a few special places, large-scale cultivation is basically impossible.
Even if someone was annoyed, they held it in—no one had a grudge against Purple Gold Coins, after all...
Wyatt sat back down, but Reynolds was also starting to lose patience.
"Gentlemen, our Roosevelt Trading Consortium deals in magic devices. What kind of cooperation could we possibly have with families that grow magical herbs?"
Faced with Reynolds' question, one of the family heads replied expressionlessly.
"The last guest has arrived. You'll see why in a moment."
A few seconds later, the main doors slowly opened, and Leon entered under the guidance of a steward.
Seeing Wyatt and Reynolds, Leon's eyes showed a hint of surprise. But when he saw the three expressionless family heads, he immediately understood.
Wyatt and Reynolds, upon seeing Leon, both looked a bit awkward. Wyatt instinctively wanted to find somewhere to hide and leave this damned place, while Reynolds, being much thicker-skinned, gave a sheepish smile and greeted Leon.
"So the final guest is Lord Leon..."
As Leon entered the hall, the doors slowly closed behind him. In an instant, the thin mist surrounding the castle thickened rapidly. Within seconds, the entire area for several kilometers was enveloped in fog—even the treefolk guards fell into a deep sleep, one by one.
Leon glanced behind him and spoke calmly.
"Alright, I'm here now. Is there really any point in hiding anymore?"
With just that one sentence from Leon, Wyatt and Reynolds' expressions changed immediately. Anyone could tell there was something going on beneath the surface—and it wasn't anything pleasant...
Applause echoed through the hall as a faint black-gray mist began to spread. A blurry figure, its appearance obscured as if behind a curtain of water, descended the staircase from one side.
A voice, cold and nearly snarling with hatred, drifted down. Instantly, everyone felt the air grow colder; a layer of black-gray frost quickly spread over the surfaces of the nearby furniture.
"Archmage Leon Merlin, well, well, you're much smarter—and much more foolish—than I expected. Since you've come here, don't think about leaving. I'm done playing with you. I'm going to kill you now!"
Leon was baffled. When had he ever offended this female mage? Judging by her aura, she was clearly Sky Rank Level 3—and she could wield soul power, too.
When he saw the three expressionless family heads, Leon immediately realized their souls had been affected—or maybe even imprisoned within their own bodies. Now, they were nothing but obedient puppets, the most lifeless kind at that...
That confirmed for Leon exactly what kind of enemy he was facing: a Puppeteer—not an alchemical golem master, but one who manipulates souls.
This was an extremely rare type of mage, said to have inherited the bloodline of demons and devils. After dangerous alchemical experiments, they'd transplanted that bloodline into humans, gaining access to certain demonic powers.