Chapter 14: Awakening (Part 3)

When the high priest stepped into the dungeon, he happened to see Cardinal Jarvis and the Marquis walking out. Both of their expressions were calm, as though nothing had occurred. Only then did the high priest breathe a sigh of relief. Earlier, he had faintly heard muffled sounds of impact coming from the dungeon, and even sensed traces of mixed magic and combat aura, which had prompted him to rush down in haste, fearing a battle had broken out.

"Nothing happened. The Marquis simply came to deliver a message from His Holiness." Cardinal Jarvis nodded toward the high priest.

High Priest Ryan's gaze lingered on both the cardinal and the marquis. Apart from noticing a faintly peculiar expression on the cardinal's otherwise composed face, he couldn't discern anything amiss. Although he found the usually shrewd young cardinal's strange demeanor perplexing, Ryan knew better than to inquire further into matters he had no business understanding.

Cardinal Jarvis's gaze flickered, and his expression grew even more unsettled. After a moment of silence, as if finally making a firm decision, he spoke:

"Take the Marquis to see the prisoner… just bring the Marquis in, and then you can leave them be."

"Understood." Despite his unease and the sense that something was off, High Priest Ryan's response was simple and straightforward. As a man who had long since lost his youthful fervor and ambition, he understood that in such unpredictable and delicate times, the less one knew, the safer one was. Knowing too much was never a good thing.

"Restore the passageway to its original state. I've dealt with all the monsters inside. Without my permission, no one else is allowed down here. I have business to attend to with Lord Rodhart," said Cardinal Jarvis. His voice, though slightly weary, carried the authority of an order, as though he had already taken control of the magic academy.

The high priest mulled over his options for a moment, seemingly considering his stance. In the end, he nodded. "Understood."

After sealing the tunnel entrance, High Priest Ryan led the Marquis toward the dungeon where the prisoner was held. Along the way, he casually asked, "Inham, so you've been working under His Holiness in Celeste? I heard this prisoner was originally supposed to be sent there to be handed over to him."

The marquis smiled. "No, I'm not stationed in Celeste. However, assisting His Holiness on occasion is an honor. His Holiness is burdened with countless responsibilities. There's no need to trouble him with this prisoner, so I'll handle it myself."

"Hmm…" The high priest could glean nothing concrete from this response and maintained his usual steady demeanor.

The magic academy was expansive. It took over ten minutes to reach the dungeon from the cathedral. When High Priest Ryan finally saw the dungeon entrance wide open and several priests and guards sprawled unconscious on the ground, even his normally composed demeanor faltered as he nearly jumped in shock.

"There's been a jailbreak!" the high priest exclaimed, rushing forward. The marquis's expression grew tense as he followed closely behind.

The guards on the ground had been rendered unconscious with considerable force. Two of them had even been stripped down to their undergarments. This was a remote cellar, typically devoid of activity, so no one had noticed or raised an alarm. Evidently, the guards and priests hadn't had time to react or call for help.

The high priest propped up one of the unconscious priests and cast healing magic. As the soft white glow enveloped the priest, he slowly regained consciousness. The high priest urgently asked, "What happened? How many people attacked you? What did they look like?"

The priest's strained response almost made the high priest leap up again: "I'm sorry… I didn't see anything. I was knocked out immediately…"

The marquis paid little attention to the unconscious priests. His focus went straight to the iron door of the cell. The door itself was intact, with no signs of being forced open. However, the lock had been broken. The fracture wasn't clean, suggesting it wasn't cut by any divine or sharp weapon. The edges of the lock showed peculiar drips and scorch marks. While most might not recognize the cause, the marquis could tell at a glance—it was the result of concentrated fire or dark magic, capable of melting the metal in an instant.

The guards had been positioned with their backs to the cell door. Using magic to dissolve the lock could be done silently. If the perpetrator acted swiftly, they could have opened the door and subdued the unsuspecting guards before they could react.

The marquis didn't need to ask further questions to know that Jarvis wouldn't have left the prisoner in a cell they could escape from unaided. Moreover, the precise use of magic to dissolve the lock without being detected suggested a level of capability beyond the prisoner's.

Entering the cell, they were met with a wave of residual heat. The steel bars of the cage, as thick as a child's arm, were undamaged, but the lock had similarly been melted away by magic. In the center of the cell, the ground was cracked and charred, as if scorched by intense heat over an extended period. It looked as though a furnace had burned there for days.

"What's this? Could the person who orchestrated the jailbreak be a powerful fire mage? But the surrounding anti-magic formations are still intact. How could this have happened?" High Priest Ryan exclaimed, stunned as he examined the peculiar traces.

The marquis stared at the cracked ground, his expression growing increasingly grim. Inhaling deeply, as if trying to discern something from the residual heat, his face shifted from contemplation to fear and anger.

"This is bad. Go notify Cardinal Jarvis immediately. I'll gather a team to begin the search," the high priest instructed. However, when he turned to speak to the marquis, he found that the man had vanished.

At this very moment, Asa and Jessica were being escorted into the Prime Minister's estate.

Both of them were dressed in robes they had taken from the unconscious priests. Asa's mask had been burned to ash, leaving him with no choice but to smear soot and dirt on his face to disguise himself. Though the result was a bit odd, it, along with their stolen robes and their fabricated story of delivering a message from the cardinal, was enough to grant them entry.

The guards led them to the Prime Minister's study. Wearing her official robes, Prime Minister Elaine was leaning against her desk, absentmindedly reviewing documents. Her expression and demeanor suggested she had been in a foul mood for some time. Hearing that the visitors had arrived, she didn't even bother looking up.

"What is it? Does Cardinal Jarvis need something? He's been acting strange these past few days. He even refused my invite to visit my office."

"Prime Minister, the matter I wish to report is highly confidential. Could you have everyone else leave the room for a moment?" Asa said in a low voice, his head bowed.

Elaine froze for a moment, then her body visibly tensed. She had recognized that voice.

"Alright, this priest has classified matters to report. All of you step out for now. Close the door behind you, and remember—no one is allowed in without my orders, understood?" Elaine took a deep breath and spoke to the guards, as well as the two clerks and secretaries nearby, in as calm a tone as possible.

Everyone left, and the study door closed. Asa wiped his hand across his face, and all his disguises crumbled into dust. He looked up at her and smiled.

That smile carried bitterness, sorrow, and weariness, but also sweetness. It no longer bore the hesitation, shyness, or uncertainty of the past. It was like a spring breeze over the fields, delivering all his feelings to her.

Elaine also smiled. Neither of them spoke. Words were unnecessary at this moment. Though language is a tool for expressing emotions, true emotions cannot always be conveyed by words.

Asa took a bold step forward, pulling Elaine into his arms and softly said, "I'm sorry."

Elaine was slightly stunned by his unfamiliar action, but she quickly melted into the embrace she had dreamed of countless times before. Softly, she replied, "What do you have to be sorry for, you fool?"

The body in his arms was so soft and warm, as if all the world's gentleness and warmth had gathered here. Every inch of his skin felt this tenderness, reaching deep into his soul. His nose caught her scent again. He had thought he had forgotten this fragrance, but as he inhaled it now, he realized it had long been imprinted on the deepest part of his being.

Unnoticed, tears had formed in the corners of his eyes. They were not tears of sorrow, nor of overwhelming joy, but a release of long-suppressed emotions. He brought his lips close to her ear, his dry lips brushing against her hair, and whispered once more, "I'm sorry."

"Fool," she said again, tears glistening in her own eyes. She simply tightened her embrace, repeating the same words.

In the corner of the room, a dark elf watched the two embrace. Her expression was complicated and difficult to read, but the strongest emotion evident in her eyes was a deep loneliness.

Perhaps a long time passed, or perhaps it was only a brief moment—time seemed to lose meaning in this room. Elaine softly said, "Why did you only come now? Do you know how worried I've been? That cardinal, when he found your dagger here the other day, started acting so strange. I looked at him and suddenly felt a peculiar fear..."

Asa sighed lightly. "You would never guess who he really is."

"Someone we know?" Elaine asked.

"More than just know." Asa smiled bitterly. "Even now, I can barely believe his true identity. I never thought he would still be alive, let alone return here under this guise... But don't worry, as long as I'm here, I will protect you."

"Who exactly are you talking about?" Elaine frowned.

At that moment, the study door suddenly opened.

A man stepped in, smiling as he spoke in a polite yet slightly apologetic tone, "Pardon me for the intrusion."

Elaine and Asa reflexively separated. Asa immediately realized that his face was now unmasked. He hurriedly turned away, lowering his head as his combat aura and magical energy began to gather in his hands. But just as he turned, he saw the man entering, and he froze in surprise.

Elaine also got a clear look at the visitor and exclaimed, "Marquis?"

"Oh? What are you doing here?" The marquis looked at Asa, his face lighting up with surprise and delight. He approached with a smile, extending his hand to clap Asa on the shoulder. "It's been so long since I've seen you. How have you been?"

The marquis's expression was genuinely friendly, his actions natural—exactly the way someone would react upon seeing an old friend after a long time. Even Asa's mind instinctively stirred with friendly memories of this acquaintance. There was no sense of danger or suspicion; in fact, he felt an odd sense of goodwill.

But as Asa watched the outstretched hand, so naturally friendly, he knew he had to avoid letting it touch him.

This was not a matter of instinct. Instinctively, he felt nothing but goodwill. This wariness came from the conclusions his guarded mind and quick thinking had drawn in those few fleeting moments.

In the past, Asa would never have been on guard against this person. But now, knowing the true identity of Cardinal Jarvis, this man's presence cast a strange shadow of doubt. Even though the outstretched hand was soft and seemingly powerless, carrying no trace of combat aura or magical energy, Asa's caution was heightened.

Thus, Asa bypassed the outstretched hand and reached for the man's wrist instead.

That hand, still soft and devoid of strength, turned ever so slightly, shifting naturally and calmly to meet Asa's grasp at his wrist.

Asa withdrew his hand and struck again, this time with combat aura sparking thunderously in his palm. If he managed to grab hold, even solid marble would crumble to dust under his grip. And this time, his hand moved fast enough to catch a speeding arrow.

But the marquis's hand shifted direction once more, slow and deliberate, yet still meeting Asa's palm. It was a hand utterly devoid of combat aura, with no muscular strength to speak of. Logically, if it clashed with Asa's power-enhanced grip, it should suffer disastrous results. Yet the marquis's manner seemed to indicate that he would go to any length—even injury—to ensure his hand touched Asa.

Since the marquis was so determined to make contact, Asa instinctively concluded that he must prevent it at all costs. This thought forced Asa to withdraw his hand once more. However, having put so much force into his earlier movement, the act of pulling back caused him to shift his stance, driving his foot into the floor with a loud, grating creak as the wood gave way beneath him. His foot sank half an inch into the floor.

The marquis also retreated, though far more gracefully. His movements remained calm and natural, taking a single, deliberate step backward.

Elaine and Asa had been standing very close together, and the marquis's retreat happened to place him right beside Elaine. Asa's expression darkened.

"Marquis, didn't the guards stop you when you came in?" Elaine asked, confused. She had clearly noticed the strange hand movements between the two men but couldn't make sense of what was happening. Recalling her earlier command that no one should be allowed near, she felt puzzled. However, her longstanding trust and the marquis's ever-friendly demeanor left her completely unguarded.

"They tried," the marquis replied with the same polite, genial smile, "but they couldn't stop me."

His tone was so warm and convincing that Elaine failed to notice anything odd about his words. It wasn't until a numbing sensation began spreading through her body, originating from the hand the marquis had clasped, that she realized something was wrong.

Asa was about to move, but the marquis's gaze pinned him in place. The marquis's expression remained kind, his smile and tone as refined as if he were attending a royal banquet, but the chilling glint deep within his eyes made his meaning clear: "You'd better not move."

The floorboards groaned again under Asa's feet as the explosive power he had been about to unleash was forcibly suppressed, causing his foot to sink further into the wood. The veins on his hands and forehead bulged visibly, and the bloodshot lines in his eyes deepened.

"Don't worry; it's this hand holding her," the marquis said, raising the hand he had almost touched Asa with earlier, "not this one."

The marquis's raised hand was elegant and finely sculpted, its bone structure clear and graceful, like a piece of art. A delicate ring adorned his middle finger.

The ring was elegant and exquisite, perfectly complementing the hand. However, a nearly invisible needle protruded from the ring. If the marquis hadn't deliberately revealed it, no one would have noticed.

"The poison on this needle is a mixture of Titalia dragonfly venom, black mist grass from Lizard Swamp, sunset flower from Dehya Valley, and the venom of a Nigen Cave manticore tail—enhanced with dark magic and cursed enchantments. On top of that, it's coated with necromantic corpse poison. Don't underestimate this tiny needle. Even the strongest Behemoth would succumb to a single prick. As for her..." The marquis cast a glance at the now-paralyzed Elaine. "She wouldn't stand a chance."