"The mana concentration here has exceeded the normal upper limit, Master."
A mage clad head to toe in a black cloak opened his eyes, gazing calmly at the forest before him and speaking in a low voice.
"So it is true."
Old Chris frowned, the wrinkles on his face—deep and gnarled like tree bark—pinching together with a hint of unease.
As a member of the Outer Arcane Circle Council of the Mage Guild, Chris had naturally conducted a thorough investigation into the Duskwood Forest before setting out. Unlike the Holy Church, however, the mages had their own independent methods of inquiry. They did not go about their business under the pretense of "sacred mana," doing whatever they pleased as the Church often did. To the Mage Guild, mana was simply a form of energy to be harnessed and used. For this reason, before making any direct contact, they always carried out extensive preliminary surveys of the surrounding area, verifying facts through intelligence before deciding on their next course of action.
The Duskwood Forest was no exception.
Initially, the Mage Guild had indeed received reports of an anomaly emerging in the Duskwood Forest, but they had not dispatched any personnel to investigate. The reason was simple: mages were rigorous scholars. They believed that only actions based on sufficient intelligence and research could lead to success. The Holy Church? Those fools would only make a mess of things. But if these idiots were willing to act as pawns to test the waters, the Mage Guild was more than happy to let them do so. After all, they knew full well that even if the Church did discover the Source, harnessing its power would take far more than a day or two. As long as the Source truly existed, the Mage Guild was confident in its ability to seize it from the Church's grasp.
With a solid plan in place, why rush?
Subsequent events only served to confirm the Mage Guild's judgment. But things soon began to take a bizarre turn.
The Holy Church's investigation team had vanished without a trace—and this was hardly surprising. It would have been more shocking if those fools had *not* met their end. Did they truly believe they were emissaries of mana, that a few prayers of praise to the gods would be enough to appease the Source's unstable power?
The lord of the Duskwood Forest had two high-ranked swordsmen in his employ—this was somewhat intriguing, but the mages paid it little mind. While high-ranked swordsmen posed a threat to their safety, as spellcasters, they had no inherent conflict with warriors. On the contrary, many mages were happy to maintain amicable relations with warriors. It cost them nothing, yet it ensured they would not find a knife plunged into their backs. **Making no unnecessary enemies** had always been one of the first three rules of the Mage Code. For this reason, the Mage Guild did not pay the matter much heed.
However, the Mage Guild's attitude toward the Duskwood Forest soon shifted from mere interest to **grave concern**. All because of one single event.
The emergence of **Elysium City**.
Though Elysium City had little contact with the outside world at present, some communication still took place—especially with the former residents of Duskwood Town. Now that they had money in their pockets, and Blake had gone to the trouble of establishing a stagecoach route between the Golden Merchant Road and Elysium City, these townsfolk could now travel to the big cities beyond the forest. Of course, no trip was complete without a few drinks and a chance to regale others with tales of their own good fortune.
"Hey there, friend! I bet you'll never believe it! That night, we were outside the forest, listening to the thunderous booms and explosions coming from within—swore the apocalypse was upon us! Then the next morning, we took a look, and what do you think we saw? Our little town was gone! In its place stood this magnificent city! By the Light of the Divine, I don't know how our Lord pulled it off, and I don't care to find out. But one thing I *do* know? I wouldn't dare cross him. He's given us a good life—filled our pockets with gold! And now this? A whole city to call our own! I'll admit, I miss my cozy little cottage with its thatched roof… but this? This is *different*. When I'm sitting in my new house, staring at these stone brick walls and the beautiful little garden outside my window? I know I made the smartest choice of my life!"
These drunken boasts were not taken seriously by most. While many people knew a city had indeed sprung up in the Duskwood Forest, the idea that it had been built *overnight* was utterly preposterous. Thus, these tales were mostly passed around as jokes.
But the Mage Guild did not let its guard down. They had also detected the violent explosions and surges of mana that night—and both were highly abnormal. Even the mages of the Guild, who were renowned for their expertise in mana manipulation, could not fathom what had transpired there. They had initially theorized that the Source might have undergone some kind of mutation, triggering an explosion. But subsequent evidence suggested otherwise. While the Mage Guild could not determine exactly when Elysium City had been constructed, their vast intelligence network allowed them to confirm one thing: even if the city had not been built overnight, as the townsfolk claimed, it had certainly been erected in an impossibly short span of time.
Based on this information, the Mage Guild reached a preliminary conclusion: a Source *did* exist in the Duskwood Forest, and it appeared to have already been seized and put to use by the young lord of the forest. Yet this was not necessarily bad news for the Guild. While the mages certainly cared about the Source itself, they were first and foremost **manipulators and users of mana**. What they needed most was high-concentration mana energy—and the dense mana fields surrounding the Source were just as valuable as the Source itself. The Mage Guild, of course, had its own methods for harnessing such energy.
Having completed their preliminary investigation, the Mage Guild had begun making preparations to send emissaries to negotiate with the young lord, hoping to strike a deal regarding the mana resources. After all, no Source had appeared in this region for many years—and this lack had stymied the expansion efforts of both the Mage Guild and the Holy Church. The emergence of a new Source had filled this void, and they were not about to let this opportunity slip through their fingers.
However, a decree issued by Elysium City soon forced the Mage Guild to put its plans on hold. The decree was short and to the point: **The Holy Church is forbidden from entering the territory of the Duskwood Forest**.
This edict should have delighted the Mage Guild. It was an official declaration—one that meant the Holy Church would never be able to gain a foothold in the region! But caution was the hallmark of the Mage Guild. This "official" decree did not come from the Mage Guild; it came from the crown, representing royal authority. In the Kingdom of Wester, they were outsiders. If the Holy Church was banned, the Mage Guild could easily suffer the same fate.
Mages were a proud lot. They had no desire to go crawling to the young lord only to be rebuffed. Thus, after much deliberation, the Mage Guild decided to send a small team to infiltrate the Duskwood Forest first—to gather intelligence on the local situation and gauge the young lord's temperament. This task could not be entrusted to ordinary people; they lacked knowledge of magic and arcane theory. Only mages could carry it out. In the end, the Mage Guild appointed Old Chris of the Outer Arcane Circle Council to lead the mission, tasked with uncovering the truth about the Duskwood Forest.
And now, they had reached their preliminary conclusion: a Source *did* exist here, and it seemed… to already be in use?
This was highly peculiar. Activating a Source required a vast array of complex devices and tools—but according to the intelligence provided by the Mage Guild, no such equipment had ever been transported into the forest. So how had it been done? Or had the lord of this land been planning this for far longer than anyone suspected? This made no sense. According to the Guild's internal investigations, this lord—Blake Felix—was not a native of the region. He had only held this territory for less than a year. What was more, **Source Energy Transformers** were not something that just anyone could get their hands on!
But he did recall that the intelligence report had mentioned something about a member of the royal family being in the young lord's company…
"Gentlemen, has your investigation come to an end?"
Just as Chris snapped out of his reverie and raised a hand to issue further orders, a voice suddenly rang out from behind them—one that nearly scared the old man out of his wits.
By the Light of the Divine! He was a **Mid-Ranked Mage**! How could he have failed to detect someone approaching from behind?
With that thought, Old Chris spun around, instinctively assuming a defensive stance. The mages beside him reacted in kind—only to stare in astonishment as a young man mounted on horseback regarded them with a friendly, elegant smile. He looked to be no more than twenty years old, his tall, lean figure clad in well-tailored noble's attire. His black eyes lent him an air of mystery. But what caught the old mage's attention most was the horse beneath him—its form was indistinct, almost like a coalesced wisp of mist, with only a pair of bright, glowing eyes to prove it was alive.
A **spirit creature**?
Mages were well-traveled and knowledgeable, and Chris immediately recognized the true nature of the beast. In that instant, the identity of the young nobleman before him became crystal clear.
How many men—let alone men so young—could tame a spirit creature to serve as a mount?
"Greetings, mages. I am Blake Felix, Lord of the Duskwood Forest."
At that moment, Blake dismounted, bowed slightly, and introduced himself with a smile.
"Greetings, Lord Felix…"
Upon hearing his name, Old Chris let out a bitter chuckle. Frankly, this was an extremely awkward situation. They had conducted their investigation without notifying Blake beforehand—and now, they had been caught red-handed by the lord himself. Killing him to silence him was out of the question. Even within the Mage Guild, there were few who could claim to have tamed a spirit creature as a mount. Coupled with the rumors circulating outside, Chris was certain he stood no chance whatsoever against this young man.
Thus, he abandoned any thoughts of hostility and returned a formal mage's bow.
"Honored Lord, I am Chris Alter of the Outer Arcane Circle Council of the Mage Guild."
Old Chris was still wary; he did not volunteer the purpose of their visit or what they had been doing. To do so would have been to answer Blake's earlier question directly—and that would have put them at an immediate disadvantage. Though he had no desire to provoke the young lord, the pride of a mage would not allow him to submit so easily.
What reassured Chris, however, was the fact that Blake had dismounted before greeting them—rather than remaining seated on his horse. This was a sign that he at least respected them as mages.
"The Mage Guild. What an honor. I never imagined members of the illustrious Mage Guild would grace my humble territory with their presence."
Upon hearing Chris's introduction, Blake smiled faintly and asked no further questions.
"As Lord of the Duskwood Forest, I am truly delighted by your visit… however, I do not believe this is the most suitable place for a conversation."
As he spoke, Blake's gaze swept over the surrounding trees. His words were few, but his meaning was crystal clear.
"Perhaps we should find a more appropriate setting?"
"By all means… of course," Old Chris replied, his expression calm, but his heart sinking. By the Light of the Divine, why did this young man have to be so astute? From the moment he had appeared, this young lord had seized complete control of the conversation. He asked the questions; he controlled the flow. He dictated their responses and directed their actions. He was neither obsequious nor arrogant—he merely carried himself with the poise and grace of a host welcoming guests. This was the most troublesome thing of all. Old Chris had no idea what the young man truly wanted. He knew full well that a Holy Church investigation team had "disappeared" here, along with a regional bishop and his guards. The Church was livid—but what could they do? They were the Holy Church, a colossal organization. The Duskwood Forest was merely the territory of a minor noble. To bully him openly would only tarnish their reputation—a reputation they relied on for their very survival.
Thus, they could do nothing but issue empty verbal condemnations, spreading rumors that the Duskwood Forest was a place of terror and that its lord was a monster… but these tactics had no effect whatsoever on the forest. Blake did not need their approval. The Duskwood Forest had no need for a large population. And the Church's slander, combined with the forest's existing reputation, only served to keep unwanted visitors away. No troublemakers, no meddlers, no curiosity-seekers—this was a situation Blake could not have hoped for more.
So what exactly did this young lord want? What was he planning?
As Old Chris pondered these questions, Blake led them out of the forest and into the sight of Elysium City.
At the sight of this magnificent, imposing metropolis, the mages' eyes widened in stunned disbelief. This was not surprising. Though they had seen many great cities in their time, those were bustling metropolises that had taken centuries to grow and develop into the wonders they were. But this beautiful city—how had it been built deep within a forest?
Gazing at the Gothic-style buildings, the bright sunlight illuminating the clean, orderly streets, and the clear spring water flowing along the canals flanking the roads, its gurgling waters making a pleasant melody—this city could *never* have been built in a matter of days!
Old Chris walked along the streets, observing the residents with a heart full of turmoil. He knew full well that constructing a city like this—even with the aid of arcane tools—would have been impossible to accomplish so quickly, so perfectly! Not even the Mage Guild, with all its power and resources, could have pulled it off—especially not without anyone noticing. This feat defied all known limits!
What kind of background did this young man have?
"Mr. Alter, what do you think of my city?"
"Oh?"
Blake's question jolted Old Chris out of his thoughts. He paused for a moment, then spoke.
"It is… magnificent. A truly beautiful city. Forgive my impertinence, but I never imagined I would see such a place hidden away in the Duskwood Forest. It has taken me completely by surprise."
"Thank you for your kind words."
Upon hearing Chris's reply, Blake nodded—and said nothing more.
Damn it! He's done it again!
At this point, Old Chris was filled with helplessness. He glanced at the mages beside him; their expressions mirrored his own. If this young lord would only say a few more words, they would have a chance to seize back the initiative. But instead, their conversation had been nothing but these abrupt, unfinished exchanges. Blake always stopped speaking at the most crucial moment. He never said enough to indicate any genuine interest in his guests. He merely hinted at the subject and then fell silent. As a mage of the Outer Arcane Circle Council, Old Chris understood perfectly well what this meant: the young lord was waiting for *him* to broach the subject first.
Otherwise… Old Chris did not know what would happen otherwise, but his instincts told him it would be something he would not wish to see.
Thus, he had no choice but to speak up.
"Honored Lord Felix, the truth is… we have come here on behalf of the Outer Arcane Circle Council to establish contact with you."
"Oh?"
Upon hearing this, Blake turned to face him. The old mage was clever, that much was certain. By adopting an official stance, he had neutralized the pressure Blake had been exerting. Now that he had stated he was here on behalf of the Outer Arcane Circle Council, he could dismiss their earlier investigation as mere curiosity—or a passing whim. He could spin it any way he liked. But this was of little consequence to Blake. It merely meant the mages had weathered his initial pressure, returning the conversation to a footing of equality.
"I am truly flattered that the Outer Arcane Circle Council would take an interest in my humble little territory… in that case…"
As he spoke, Blake finally came to a halt. For the first time, he extended a hand.
"Perhaps we should have a proper talk."