Chapter 196: The Transcendent Gathering

After exchanging a few words with the Shadowbinder, Dany's fear gradually faded. She even jogged over to the shadow, carefully examining it.

Its facial features were indistinct, but it had hands and feet. The head and neck were blurry, and just like Lisbon's Blood Dragon Frenzy, the details were poorly done.

Dany asked, "That nobleman—without his soul—will he die?"

"When the sorcery ends, the soul will automatically return to the body. It'll be as if he had a dream."

"Can I touch it?" Dany pointed at the black shadow.

The Shadowbinder.

The black-skinned fire mage looked at the priestess of the Seven in shock and clicked his tongue. "You're quite bold!"

Dany and the Shadowbinder conversed for a while, and gradually, the others began to recover from their initial shock and fear.

"You can try," the Shadowbinder said in a ghostly tone.

The touch was icy cold, soft yet bouncy, like jelly left in the fridge overnight.

"A bit chilly. It feels like it's absorbing the heat from my hand," Dany remarked, flicking her finger a few times against the shadow's head. "Hmm, quite solid."

Then, she grabbed the shadow's wrist and squeezed slightly. Like wood decayed for tens of thousands of years, it crumbled into powder without resistance.

The shadow twisted and suddenly darted around the room in a frenzy.

Did it look… panicked?

"Still a bit fragile," Dany commented, holding up the struggling, writhing severed hand. She turned to the Shadowbinder. "What now? Should I just drop it?"

"You—you—you—" The Shadowbinder, who had maintained the demeanor of an enlightened master all this time, could no longer stay calm. He pointed at Dany, his voice distorted with shock. "How are you completely unaffected?"

"Affected by what?" Dany tried to drop the wriggling shadow piece, but it was so light it seemed weightless. Even with her palm open, the severed limb remained stuck to it.

The fire mage, the male sorcerer, and the Moon Singer all stared at her in a daze. Finally, the elderly black-skinned fire mage stepped forward and asked, "What do you feel?"

"Nothing. Lighter than cotton candy—just a little cold and sticky. You try?" She held the severed hand toward the old man.

"What's cotton candy?" The old fire mage absentmindedly asked as he instinctively reached out with his right hand and grabbed the severed limb. Instantly, the shadow detached from Dany's palm.

"Huh, that's strange." She examined her hand, flipping it back and forth. It was completely clean—nothing there.

"G-g-g-g-g—" A sound like chattering teeth, dense as rain striking plantain leaves, filled the room.

Focusing her gaze, Dany saw the old fire mage's face had turned an ominous black-blue. His graying eyebrows, beard, and short hair were coated in a fine layer of white frost. His eyes rolled back, dim like a dead catfish's.

It was visibly clear—his breath, once coming out in wisps of white mist, was diminishing.

Uh-oh. He was exhaling but not inhaling.

Dany took several steps back and pointed at the old man in alarm. "What's happening to him?"

"You—" The Shadowbinder shot her a glare, quickly bent down, and rummaged through a cloth bag, pulling out a "lid" and slamming it onto the brazier.

"Hiss—" The three-foot-high flames shrank back into the brazier, and within moments, the fire was extinguished. The shadow that had been wildly running around the room also rapidly dimmed and vanished.

"Thud!" The old fire mage collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air in deep, desperate breaths.

"You Summer Islanders really are children of summer," Dany sighed, shaking her head. "Never seen snow, never endured winter—can't even handle a little cold."

The Shadowbinder helped the old man up and asked, "Grand Sorcerer Conti, how do you feel?"

"I'll manage. Grand Sorcerer Tam has great magical power, but I…" The fire mage glanced at Dany, who was entirely unharmed, and sighed. "Shameful. Truly shameful! Sigh, I'm not even as resilient as a false priestess."

"I am a priestess of the Seven," Dany retorted.

"A priest without divine power is nothing but a fraud," said Lisbon, the young man stepping forward. He helped the old mage to the wall and then scrutinized Dany with curiosity. "What's going on with you? Why weren't you affected by Grand Sorcerer Tam's magic?"

"I don't fear the cold," she replied.

"This isn't just about being cold or not—" The fire mage seemed to realize something, hesitating before pointing at her in astonishment. "You have the potential to be a mystic! And not just that—your talent is incredibly high! Even without training, you naturally possess sorcerous power within you!"

The Shadowbinder and the others suddenly understood. The Seven were false gods, and their priests were false mystics. But that didn't mean a false priest couldn't have a true talent for magic.

"What's your name?" the Moon Singer asked.

Hmm, now that she had proven to have mystical potential, these people finally started treating her like a real person.

"Leyla of the Arasone family in Braavos," she answered.

"Arasone…" The Moon Singer pondered for a moment before realizing, "The Arasone family of Moonpool Street. Your ancestors once lived inside the Black Walls, didn't they?"

Dany shrugged indifferently. "That was centuries ago."

The Arasones of Braavos—an old, small noble family with Valyrian blood, now fallen into decline.

When Daenerys was young, Willem Darry had once hosted the head of the Arasone family. Later, when Ser Willem died, and Daenerys and her brother were thrown out of the Red Door house by their servants, Viserys had even sought help from the Arasones.

Clearly, the ones truly behind their expulsion weren't the household servants. The Arasones never even let the two Targaryen children past their doorstep.

"Leyla, you should consider converting to R'hllor," the Moon Singer suggested. "Being a priestess of the Seven has no future."

The old fire mage slowly got up and said, "Private matters can be discussed in private. It's late. Let's continue."

The Moon Singer nodded and stepped forward. "I'll go next."

The Zebra-clad elder used no tools. He simply sat cross-legged on the gray stone floor, muttering incantations as his black pupils spun wildly. Just watching made Dany feel dizzy.

There were no dramatic light or sound effects, yet Dany could see that in his mental realm, the crescent moon expanded rapidly, swelling into a full moon before thinning again into a waning crescent.

She had no idea what he was doing, but he was definitely working some kind of magic.

"Hoo—" He let out a long breath and stood up, his expression solemn. "Tomorrow morning, thick fog will cover Volantis. By nine, the mist will clear, and the sun will shine brightly. In the afternoon, temperatures will be high—stay hydrated to avoid heatstroke. Come evening, the sky will be painted with sunset hues, and a gentle breeze will blow. If you have the time, I recommend watching the sunset at Boar Cliff."

"Uh..." Dany stood frozen for a long moment, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"The prophecy. Lord Moon-Singer is predicting tomorrow's weather," said the elderly Black mage.

"Actually..." Dany looked conflicted. In truth, I could also guess that tomorrow will be a sunny day.

But seeing the zebra man's sweat-drenched exhaustion, she couldn't bring herself to say something that would break his spirit.

Next up was the Qarthian warlock, who gave Dany a slight surprise.

He took out a blue-painted tortoise shell the size of a lunchbox, chanted an incantation, and from the shell emerged a glowing blue turtle. It had limbs, a head, and even a pair of ethereal wings, floating in mid-air.

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"Phantom Turtle?" she called out.

The warlock nodded, tapped his finger on the turtle's forehead, and the Phantom Turtle rapidly expanded, growing from the size of a lunchbox to that of a rice cooker.

"Go!" the warlock commanded in a low voice. The Phantom Turtle spun in a swift circle, flapped its wings, paddled its limbs in the air, and darted toward Dany as fast as a galloping horse.

"Moo!" the turtle let out a cry. Then, a message appeared in her mind: Impressive, isn't it?

"Uh..." She nodded blankly. "Impressive, impressive, very impressive."

With a "poof," the Phantom Turtle dissolved into a cluster of blue luminescence and vanished.

"How far can your Phantom Turtle travel?" Dany asked, eyeing the exhausted warlock.

"Within five hundred meters, it moves freely," the red-faced warlock replied proudly.

But, brother, your spiritual energy has lost three-quarters of its blue mist!

"Very impressive. Does this tortoise shell have any special significance?" Dany asked with admiration.

The warlock did not hesitate and said directly, "You know of the Rhoynar gods, right? They revere the entire Rhoyne River as a deity—'Mother Rhoyne.'

Though the Valyrians nearly destroyed her, Mother Rhoyne remains far more real than the Seven Gods.

Beneath her, there exists a pantheon of lesser gods, one of whom is the great turtle, 'Old Man of the River.'

Perhaps due to the divine bloodline of the Old Man of the River, some turtles in the Rhoyne possess extraordinary spiritual qualities."

He tossed the tortoise shell in his hand and continued, "Just like this one. I bought this sacred turtle shell from a Rhoynar fisherman for forty silver coins."

"Rhoynar?" Dany noted that it wasn't just an ordinary descriptive term.

"Only the Rhoynar worship the Old Man of the River, and such auspicious creatures are rarely seen by outsiders."

Dany was stunned. "A believer hunting and killing their own deity?"

"Heh, as long as the price is high enough, people would even sell their own parents and children. Isn't that just human nature?" The warlock curled his blue lips into a sneer.

Shadowbinder Stam spoke solemnly, "It is said that each fisherman gets only one chance in their lifetime—once they accept those forty silver coins, they will never see the Old Man of the River again in the Rhoyne."

Without further delay, the warlock carefully stored away the tortoise shell and stepped back to the wall.

The next to take the stage was the unremarkable, scrawny middle-aged fire mage.

Taller than Tyrion, who was less than 1.1 meters, he stood at about 1.4 meters. His cheeks were so thin that the contours of his skull were visible.

Standing in the stone hall, he removed his gray robe, kicked off his sandals, and was left with only a white cloth wrapped around his waist. His ribs were clearly visible—so thin he looked skeletal.

The bony man pulled out a pillow-sized bundle of cotton, doused it with pungent fire oil, soaking it thoroughly, then spread it into a four-meter-long strip. The cotton strip was uneven—thicker in the middle, tapering at both ends.

Then, he lit it.

"Whoosh!"

A four-meter-long red wall of fire shot up inside the hall. The flames in the middle reached over two meters high, while the sides were shorter, only half a meter. From Dany's perspective, it looked like a flaming mountain peak.

The bony man rolled his neck and stretched his waist, completing his warm-up. He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I shall now demonstrate the Art of Fire Escape."

"Fire Escape Technique?" Dany was intrigued.

"Ha!" The bony man backed up to the wall, shouted loudly, and sprinted toward the firewall.

"Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha!" Like a motorcycle accelerating up a dirt ramp, he ran barefoot onto the fire, climbing as if stepping on solid ground. He sprinted across the flames for four meters before descending on the other side at full speed.

"Slap!" His bare feet landed on the ground—he had really run across the fire!

"Clap, clap, clap!" Dany clapped her hands enthusiastically, shouting excitedly, "Amazing! That was incredible!"

Several nearby mages had initially remained indifferent, but upon seeing Dany's excitement, they politely concealed their skepticism and also began clapping, "Clap, clap, clap."

Seeing the unprecedentedly enthusiastic response, the bony man, who had originally planned to finish with a single run, grew even more excited.

Even the great Shadowbinder and the young generation's top prodigy are applauding for me, I must put on my best performance!

(End of Chapter)

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