Sheffil sat on the marble steps, head drooping.
A large red bruise had formed on the right side of his cheek—it was clear he’d taken a punch to the face.
Earlier, in order to get information about the fake Sheffil from Yang He, he’d used a small trick—he’d discreetly released some fear-inducing smoke into the meeting room.
Colorless and odorless, it caused those who inhaled it to spiral into vivid, uncontrollable fear-induced delusions.
Chaos would naturally follow.
The technique itself was only Tier Two in power; if someone actively circulated their magic, the effects would completely vanish.
Even a slap could snap someone out of it.
But who would be running their mana during a meeting under Yang He’s command?
No one—that was what gave Sheffil his brief moment of control.
Unfortunately, the dose of fear mist had been too heavy this time and accidentally triggered the luminite smoke alarm in the hall.
The fire suppression system kicked in, dousing the room with water and instantly sobering everyone up.
Then Yang He, regaining her senses, punched him with a strength that could rival a bear’s.
If Sheffil weren’t trained in physical combat, he might not have woken up until tomorrow.
Thinking back, Sheffil realized he’d added two new injuries to his face within a single day.
He had to admit—maybe he’d gone a little overboard with the prank.
Still, it wasn’t without reward.
“Gate No. 6 on Seventh Street in the suburbs, not far from that main road, huh?”
Sheffil held the note high in the air, muttering as he read.
Written on it was the intel he’d managed to pry out of Yang He.
According to her, this fake Sheffil had never attended any fan club meetings in person.
All their self-made comics were sent out by mail—from this exact address.
As the bootleg artist’s high-quality work grew in popularity, readers began demanding reprints.
Eventually, they even set up a local fan club just for the impostor: the Dorothy Fan Support Association!
It doubled as a storefront to sell other Dorothy merchandise.
Of course, all of this had been done behind Sheffil’s back.
Perhaps another of Yang He’s tricks to irritate him?
Still, his attitude remained the same as always—if the fake Sheffil hadn’t danced around mocking him to his face, he might’ve just let it go and returned quietly after the meeting.
Sheffil glanced down at the quartz watch on his wrist.
It was already 4:00 p.m.
He still had to attend a forging contest and a mixer.
The events didn’t overlap timewise, but if he didn’t leave now, he’d be late…
Maybe it was time to start turning down some of these activities.
Scratching his head, Sheffil shook off the thought and began walking toward the agreed venue for the mixer.
“Hold on a second, little brother.”
Just then, a voice called out to him.
He turned to see a broad, honest-looking face smiling at him.
A young man with ash-blue hair stood before him, while behind him stood a tall woman in black.
Her expression was cold as frost, betraying no emotion.
They were unfamiliar faces—not students, clearly.
Sheffil’s mind spun as he responded, “Yes? Is something wrong?”
“Haha, we’re here visiting Jadecrest Academy—first time. The place is a lot bigger than we expected.”
The man wiped sweat from his brow with a sheepish smile.
“Could you tell me how to get to the Second Division of the Magus Institute?”
“Oh, I see.”
Sheffil nodded, realization dawning.
He thought for a moment—it just so happened his path would take him that way.
“I’m headed to the Second Division myself. If you don’t mind, we can go together.”
“Really? That’d be great!”
The young man’s face lit up with joy.
He turned and addressed the tall woman behind him, his expression suddenly filled with deference.
“Lady Liangzhou, please follow this young man. He’ll guide us.”
So the two were in a master-servant relationship?
As they began walking, Sheffil struck up a conversation with the young man beside him.
“I’m Sheffil.
And you are…?”
“Ah, I forgot to introduce myself!
I’m Darkness, and this is Lady Liangzhou.
We’re here at the invitation of an acquaintance.”
“Lady… Liangzhou?”
“Yes, Lady Liangzhou is our—”
“Darkness.
Enough,” came the icy interruption.
The commanding chill in her voice made Darkness fall silent immediately.
He gave Sheffil an apologetic smile.
That level of loyalty didn’t seem like that of a simple noble and her retainer.
And if they’d been invited, it suggested this Lady Liangzhou held some special status.
Could she be the head of some major power?
Sheffil pondered this silently before speaking again.
“Brother Darkness, what kind of invitation brought you here?”
“Ah, well…” Darkness’s smile grew stiff, but Liangzhou simply shrugged, unbothered, and took over the explanation.
“It’s fine.
You can tell him, Darkness.”
“Yes.” Darkness immediately straightened, then leaned in close to Sheffil and whispered as if afraid others might overhear.
“Brother Sheffil, it’s fine if I tell you, but don’t go spreading it around.
It could cause trouble.”
“We came here in search of a weapon.”
“A weapon?”
Sheffil tilted his head.
Just a weapon?
What, were they expecting some kind of Heaven-grade artifact?
Ridiculous.
There were only a handful of such weapons ever recorded on the continent, all held tightly by top-tier powers like the Empire or the Celestial Church.
If Jadecrest Academy had anything even close, the royal court would’ve confiscated it long ago.
“Yes.”
Darkness paid no mind to Sheffil’s skepticism.
His voice grew solemn, each word dropping with weight, as if he wanted to carve it into Sheffil’s very soul.
His eyes shone with the zeal of a pilgrim.
“For the blade of the Yellow Springs War God—
The underworld sword that felled the undying King of Blazing Fury’s former self…”
“We have come for Dan-sha-li.”