Reyn's heart fluttered.
Could this Winslow be the Red Stone Duke himself? The more he thought, the more convinced he became. He found no other explanations.
Red Stone Duke, Kelston Carter—the greatest genius in human history!
What was he doing in Longsand?
And at such a critical moment, when Longsand was attacked. The Red Stone Duke had disguised himself as his disciple and infiltrated Silverstar Academy.
Reyn's thoughts jumbled; he dared not think further.
He pretended to notice nothing and stopped looking toward the Pallas mages. Suppressing the soul discomfort, he left Silverstar Academy grounds step by step.
Reyn didn't know that as he left, Winslow in the crowd suddenly looked after him, sensing something. He stared intently at Reyn's receding back for several seconds with faint puzzlement in his gaze.
Reyn awoke to find daylight long broken outside the window.
He threw off the blanket and sat up in bed. Consciousness slowly returned, and he realized he'd spent the night in Viola's bedroom. Someone—undoubtedly Viola—had kindly wiped his body and changed him into clean shorts. Reyn cautiously shook his head: the agonizing sensation of his soul tearing apart, which had haunted him, was finally gone.
"Hmm…" Reyn exhaled long. "Finally back to myself."
That casual glance yesterday in Silverstar Academy had harmed him far more than expected. It was a true soul injury, unhealable even by energy expenditure. Returning to Vigo Manor, he'd collapsed into bed and passed out instantly, without even saying goodbye to Roger and Zoltan.
Reyn grinned wryly. This time, he couldn't blame himself for carelessness. He'd used the Eye of the Soul for so long without issue. The only incident was back when he was a mere human and foolishly gazed at Roger out of ignorance. Since then, he'd always been extremely cautious. Now his abilities let him observe Legendary souls without trouble—no mishaps expected.
But who could've guessed he'd stumble upon a Holy Soul Mage?
There were only twelve in the entire Empire, and most people never saw even one in a lifetime. Upon meeting, one could usually recognize their status and refrain from impolite stares. But this Red Stone Duke, for unknown reasons, disguised as his own student and hid in Silverstar Academy. And Reyn had to notice him! Such an improbable event could only be cruel fate, leaving Reyn to accept the failure.
Only now could he calmly ponder: what were the Red Stone Duke's true intentions? A Holy Soul Mage secretly entering another Holy Soul Mage's territory—definitely some scheme. And the timing was highly delicate.
The recent Longsand unrest was provoked by the Shadow Blade, acting on someone's orders to seize the Silver Star Duchess's Iolla Core. Could the Red Stone Duke be linked to the Shadow Blade? Was he the client?
Reyn dismissed it immediately.
Every Holy Soul Mage was a follower of the Goddess of Magic. Even if not all were her Chosen, none would betray the Goddess or ally with Loxi's followers. Loxi was the Goddess's sworn enemy; their feud was irreconcilable, admitting no compromise. Over millennia, countless conflicts had raged between these deities. The Red Stone Duke had no reason to steal the Iolla Core—he already had his own floating city. Even wanting a second, his vast wealth could easily create a new one. No need for such enormous risk attacking another Holy Soul Mage.
Reyn pondered a while, sensing some inconsistency, like missing key info to form a logical picture.
He worried: should he tell the Silver Star Duchess? Silence might expose her to greater danger. Telling her—she might not believe, and it could reveal his secrets. If word leaked further, he'd make an enemy of the far more formidable Red Stone Duke.
After long deliberation, Reyn couldn't decide.
"Fine, nothing serious has happened yet; no need to dwell."
Reyn pushed the thoughts aside, got up, and washed.
Descending, he found manager Abigail had prepared breakfast. She also relayed Viola's message: she'd gone to assess damage to the "Violet House."
Sated, Reyn headed out. Not to "Violet House," but first to the "Basilisk" tavern.
Riding a bicycle from Vigo Manor, he saw the earthquake's aftermath from afar. Many buildings collapsed; people sat dazed on road shoulders awaiting aid, sobs echoing for lost loved ones. Amid the rubble, workers cleared debris. The river breach was patched, prepping for restoration. Vigo Manor, north of the Mage Tower, was unscathed.
Reyn paused briefly, shaking his head regretfully. He bypassed collapsed sections, headed north, crossed Ferreglen River via another bridge, and entered the Rien district. Soon he reached the "Basilisk" tavern.
Inside bustled as usual: some played cards, some drank. Talk centered solely on yesterday's Silverstar district quake. Rumors abounded, but truth was scarce.
No Zoltan in the main hall. Reyn found him in the inner courtyard—the dwarf sat sorting All Souls Cards. No Roger nearby.
"And where's Master Roger?"
"He left," Zoltan replied grimly.
"Left?"
Reyn didn't grasp immediately. Seconds later, it hit: Roger fled in the night!
"Why did Master Roger leave?" he asked hastily. "And where to?"
"How should I know why?" Zoltan slammed the cards down, fanning them out. "Didn't say where he was headed," the dwarf grumbled. "But I figure either back to his holdings in Britantania or to Hohaven duchy for his daughter. Not many places he could go anyway."
Reyn asked surprised:
"Master Roger has holdings in Britantania? And a daughter?"
The knightly kingdom of Britantania lay north in the Empire. Its people followed Lady of the Lake Viviana; the ruling class were conservative, feudal knights highly intolerant of outsiders. Roger clearly wasn't Britantanian, yet somehow gained title and lands there.
Hohaven duchy was southwest in the Empire. Effectively a vassal state comparable to a province in size. Its vast basin held fertile lands and scenic views. Famous for vineyards and world-renowned fine wines. Ruled by "Storm Queen," a Holy Soul Mage and High Council member.
"He never told you?" Zoltan asked surprised.
Reyn shook his head:
"No."
Zoltan sighed:
"Roger's a follower of the Lady of the Lake. Years ago in Britantania, he was knighted, granted baronial title and lands. Even has a surname—Lavex—but never uses it. The daughter… actually adopted. Found her by chance in Hohaven duchy; they lived together a few years. Then he placed her with a noble family there for upbringing. Haven't seen each other in years, I think."
Reyn nodded. So Roger followed the Lady of the Lake. Only yesterday had he dared directly view Roger's soul but paid little heed to his faith's flame. Few Empire followers of this goddess. Her doctrine boiled down to ancient knightly traditions—the eight virtues. Roger's faith didn't seem strong: he never mentioned or prayed.
Reyn guessed why Roger left. Clearly smitten with Delaersha, but realized his feelings might stem from Suggestion, that he'd been deceived. Even if feelings lingered post-Suggestion, he couldn't accept the Silver Star Duchess having other lovers. Plus, their status gap was vast. Reyn hadn't known Roger long but grasped the legendary demon hunter's pride. He wouldn't join love intrigues or humble himself as the Duchess's loyal vassal like Flink. So he just left, severing ties.
Reyn felt a twinge of regret at not bidding Roger farewell. Who knew when they'd meet again.
"These are trophies from the stronghold; let's split 'em," Zoltan pulled out items. Most notable: two staves and a Rune Book. Rest were minor alchemical trinkets looted by the lich from slain Superhumans.
One staff from the ninth-level lich, the other from the Dark Sun warlock. Both top quality. The warlock's staff, with three embedded spells, worth at least three-four thousand gold.
But the lich's Rune Book was the prize.
Reyn, who hadn't examined it before, took it and studied. Two fingers thick, dictionary-like, it held five pages besides the cover. Five spells inscribed: three necromancy, plus third-circle "Fireball" and second-circle "Counterspell." Each usable thrice daily.
Rune Books were common gear for casters, sometimes called spellbooks. Spells could be altered. One holding five spells was top-grade gear, worth over ten thousand gold!
Reyn pondered. His melee skills were strong enough; no major progress soon. After second soul transformation and mid-rank mage level, he should focus on spellcasting. A battle mage was still a mage, needing many spells. This excellent Rune Book could offset his magic weaknesses, plus portable.
Decision came quick.
"Zoltan, I'd like this Rune Book," Reyn said. "But it's very valuable. Let's appraise it; I'll pay the difference."
"No need for extra," Zoltan waved indifferently. "Want it? Take it. I'll sell the rest and split proceeds with Roger. Holding his share for now."
Reyn was surprised. The remaining two staves and assorted junk were hardly worth five thousand gold—less than half the price of the Rune Book. Dwarves usually counted every copper lisso, and Zoltan was being unusually generous today, as if he'd been swapped out.
"Zoltan, this isn't like you," Reyn smirked. "You'll end up in the red."
"You did so much in the stronghold, saved my life! What's a little money lost? Do you think I'm one of those ungrateful dwarves?" Zoltan crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Reyn angrily. "In fact, I came out ahead the most! The rune knowledge I copied in the temple is worth more than ten such books to a dwarf!"