Half-step Purgatory

Durin stroked the black cat on the armrest of his chair, sitting on the black leather sofa. Through the glasses perched on his nose, his gaze passed over the long table in front of him and settled on the man kneeling on the carpet:
"I understand, you've made money in Naples, your business has been very successful, and you've led a happy life. You've had those secret police, friends in both the law and the underground, and even the Royal Family speaking on your behalf."
"You don't need a friend like me, I know that. You're afraid of owing me a favor, and you don't want to get involved in troubles."
"But now you come to me and say, 'I beg you, Mr. Durin of the Corleon family, please help me seek justice, so that my life and my family will not suffer and sink into despair.'
Yet, in your eyes, I was nothing more than a second-rate artist involved in movies and music. Even at the brink of death, you still show me such disrespect, not even willing to call me by my title... Keeper of Secrets."

Durin's Diary

He stood in the alleyway after the explosion.


Mages from the Mage Tower in Copenhagen had come to investigate, deducing that a delayed Flame Explosion Spell with Extreme Effectiveness Metamagic had been triggered.


This was a Spell Formula infinitely close to the seventh ring, yet it possessed the lethality of a ninth ring spell, and… this Spell Formula was only circulated within the Mage Academy and assassin temple of the Eastern Elven Territory.


This meant that at the moment in Copenhagen, there very likely could be a Grassland Elf assassin master with the power of a seventh ring mage in action.


Chapter 128: Storyteller