Chapter 243 - Confusing and Complicated

It took less than half a minute for a rather rotund, middle-aged man, whose head bore few strands of hair and who wore an archmage’s robe, to fly out. However, he did not leave the City Defense Maze Locks of Far Mountain City. Enraged, he said, "Manson, do not push me too far. If you dare cast a spell towards Far Mountain City, we, the Crimson Feather, will go to full-scale war with the Santarin Association."He was none other than Mels, the City Lord of Far Mountain Hall and the Great Commander of Crimson Feather.

When he spoke these words, Mels clearly lacked confidence, much like he had to rely on the City Defense Maze Locks of Far Mountain when facing Manson; after all, the latter was a legendary mage with many years of fame, already an archmage when Mels had started on the path of a mage. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt

Mels didn’t have the guts to match spells with his opponent; his only reliance was the Crimson Feather Commerce Guild.

But when it truly came to the moment of battle, Mels himself had his doubts about how many of those mercenary merchants would respond to his call and dare to have a showdown with the Dark Intelligence Net.

Manson’s voice did not fluctuate in the slightest, sounding as if a venomous snake lurked in his throat, he hissed, "The goods that I entrusted to you for delivery to Dark Castle were hijacked. If you do not give me an explanation, it is not you who will be at war with me, but I who will flatten your Far Mountain City and eradicate your Crimson Feather!"

At the mention of this incident, Mels’ anger reached another level. He retorted, "Manson, you shameless scoundrel, how dare you even bring up this matter? Why drag us, Crimson Feather, into your Santarin Association’s internal strife?"

"I’m coming to you for an explanation, but I should be demanding compensation from you. An armed cavalry of ours, an experienced merchant convoy, all fell victim to your internal feud. Unless your Santarin Association gives us sufficient compensation, this matter is not over!"

"Without any evidence, what makes you claim this was due to our Santarin Association’s infighting?" Manson finally showed a hint of anger in his words, "Do not simply point the finger for your own negligence at us."

"Who says I have no evidence? Darcy, come out, tell our dear King of the Moon Sea what you know, let’s see what kind of dogs he has been raising." Following Mels’ command, a mage flew out from Far Mountain City.

This mage was none other than the leader of the Crimson Feather merchant convoy who had been obliterated earlier in the Rocklands and even blasted to death.

Along with the news of the convoy’s total annihilation, some of his severed limbs had been brought back, hastily revived by people Mels sent using Revival Spells, eager to obtain firsthand intelligence.

Darcy, flying above, quivered with trepidation, feeling his scalp tingle, sandwiched between two legendary mages filled with rage. The pressure was immense; the slightest misstep could send him once more into eternal darkness, the permanent kind.

But as the person involved, he could not avoid this matter. Stiffening his resolve, he loudly answered, "I was ambushed and killed by Sister Stefanie of the Broken Heart using the Heartbreaker Fist."

"Is everything you said true?" Manson’s gaze, traversing hundreds of meters, engulfed Darcy.

Suddenly, Darcy felt as if he had lost control over his soul and body. He loudly answered, "Everything I have said is true. I was killed by the Heartbreaker Fist."

"Hmph!" Manson snorted angrily, and in a flash, he vanished from the spot. The terrifying magic power that had been gathering around him dispersed with a roar as he disappeared, producing a slight sonic boom.

"Don’t leave, you haven’t clarified the matter of compensation yet!" Mels cried out, effectively shouting at thin air, but he believed that his words had surely reached the ears of the King of the Moon Sea underworld.

After Manson vanished, the controlling sensation on Darcy’s body receded like the tide, finally allowing him to breathe. His legs weakened, and his Flying Spell almost failed, nearly causing him to plunge from the sky.

As Manson disappeared, the rage on Mels’s face also faded slowly like the tide, leaving behind a chill that was extremely similar to Manson’s.

The display of anger just now contained quite a bit of acting.

Darcy gathered his thoughts and asked respectfully, "Teacher, what should we do next? Do we still need to continue investigating that batch of goods?"

Upon receiving the news, Mels’s first action was not to revive Darcy, but to use mage runes to trace the whereabouts of that batch of goods. Yet, neither object tracking spells nor prophecy techniques yielded any results.

That batch of goods had vanished into thin air, as if it had never existed.

"We must investigate," Mels declared with undeniable certainty, "We have to make a big fuss about it, but there’s no need to waste manpower and resources."

"I am dull and have not grasped Teacher’s meaning," Darcy admitted, unclear whether Mels intended a real investigation or a feigned one.

"Your magic talent is not bad, but your political acumen has not improved at all over these years," Mels sighed deeply and said, "If this matter truly involves Bozor, do you think he would give us a chance to find that batch of goods?"

Thinking about the methods of that legendary Archpriest of Bane, Darcy shook his head and said, "Absolutely not, and he shouldn’t even leave behind the slightest chance of being implicated. In that case, the Heartbreaker Nun, the Heartbreaker Fist, seems far too obvious a flaw, doesn’t it?"

"Heh..." Mels laughed meaningfully, "Who says that the loyalty of Bane’s priests must invariably lie with Bane’s High Priest?"

Darcy was stunned, a sense of disbelief spreading in his eyes as he exclaimed in surprise, "Do you mean that this hijack was not instigated by Bozor, but by Manson, in order to frame Bozor? But why?"

Darcy felt his brain was struggling to keep up.

"It may not be Manson’s personal instruction." Mels, intrigued by the topic and unwilling to beat around the bush with his slow student, continued, "The struggle between the Shylock Faction and the Bane Faction has intensified recently within the Santarin Association.

But Manson’s stance has been somewhat ambiguous, leaning a bit towards the Shylock Faction, yet not completely allied with them.

If at this time Bozor’s people robbed the supplies supporting Manson’s subordinates, what do you think the ultimate result would be?"

Darcy, while not particularly adept at these conspiracies and schemes, was not truly dense. Otherwise, he could not have become a Transcendent Archmage. With such a prompt, he quickly understood, "Teacher means that someone from the Shylock Faction robbed this batch of goods and framed Bozor, in order to provoke a dispute between Manson and him, pushing Manson completely toward the Shylock Faction."

"Given the limited information, this seems the most likely possibility, though there’s also a chance that this act was indeed Bozor’s doing, and his followers were just too careless," Mels said noncommittally.

"Whichever it is, the final outcome is the same. The rift between Manson and Bozor will deepen, and a direct conflict breaking out between the Shylock Faction and the Bane Faction is very likely. Therefore, you all need to be prepared. As soon as trouble starts within the Santarin Association, you must be the first to take over the trade shares that become available."

"I understand," said Darcy, whose mood had been soured by the heavy losses of his caravan. At this moment, he cleared the clouds and saw a broader horizon. Compared to swallowing up a large share of the Santarin Association’s market, what was that previous loss in the Rocklands?

Another stroke of insight suddenly cleaved through Darcy’s mind.

Could it be that the entire affair had been within Mels, the City Lord’s, calculations from the very beginning?

Or perhaps, had Mels foreseen the certain jeopardy of this cargo en route from the start?

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that his idea was correct.

This escort order was said to be personally facilitated by Mels, the City Lord, and he was the one who directly assigned Darcy to it.

The number of armed cavalry deployed by the Crimson Feather Commerce Guild for this valuable cargo was modest, and Mage Feng Geda Hast was the sole mage.

After the incident with the cargo, Mels brought Darcy back to life and showed no intent to pursue responsibility.

What Darcy had previously assumed pressures from the Moon Sea Tyrant now seemed to carry a deeper significance.

When Darcy looked again towards Mels’s portly figure, he seemed so much more imposing.

Mels had, through his own efforts, managed to grow the Crimson Feather Commerce Guild to its current size within the high-pressure environment orchestrated by the Santarin Association, all within a few decades. Luck was certainly not the only factor at play.

This mutual decline and rise.

If the Santarin Association really did weaken in this internal strife, the Crimson Feather Commerce Guild would rise opportunistically and thoroughly replace it.

This realization wasn’t only dawning on Darcy; under Mels’s subtle instigation, all the merchants of the Crimson Feather Commerce Guild were coming to the same conclusion.

Hence, the investigation into the cargo lost in the Rocklands was all bark and no bite, and manpower and resources were being covertly diverted to Far Mountain City, lying in wait for the internal conflicts of the Santarin Association to fully erupt and reap the benefits in the aftermath.

Compared to the grander scheme of vying for supremacy in the Moon Sea Region, the loss of some cargo in the Rocklands was trivial—after all, the goods belonged to Manson, they belonged to the Santarin Association, and their only losses were a few hands—ordinary hands, while the elite either returned or were resurrected.

Manson, who had gone to Far Mountain City to demand accountability in person, did not return directly to Santarin Association’s headquarters at Santiel Fortress after teleporting away but appeared near Tivantum City and then turned towards the Rocklands.

Before he could approach the Rocklands, a tall figure had already reached there first, blocking Manson’s path.

The tall figure had white hair and beard but a ruddy complexion and was full of vigor. Unlike the modest attire of most mages, he wore a golden robe and a crown-like ornament on his head, holding a gleaming scepter.

In contrast to the guarded Manson, he appeared like a kind and benevolent old man, with no elemental fluctuations around him.

Yet, that was precisely what was most abnormal—don’t forget that he was standing in mid-air.

"Archmage Feng Geda Hast!" Manson said expressionlessly, "I’m not here for a fight. Move aside; I’ll leave as soon as my business is done."

Feng Geda Hast.

He had many titles, but the three most famous ones were the following:

A close friend of King Yasan III of the Komeer Kingdom, the Court Archmage of the Komeer Kingdom, and the Supreme Commander of War Mages.

Now, it was impossible to talk about the Komeer Kingdom without mentioning two people: the current King Yasan III and the Archmage before him, with the demeanor of a kindly next-door grandfather.

Archmage Feng Geda Hast shook his head with a smile, "Mister Manson, your uninvited presence has already broken our agreement. If I allow you to enter the Rocklands, it would be a serious dereliction of my duty."

"Let me enter the Rocklands or I’ll go back to Tivantum," said Manson with unwavering determination.

His mention of returning to Tivantum was not about a simple pass-through.

Archmage Feng Geda Hast still held his affable smile, "If you can, just try going back. Let’s see if you’ll destroy Tivantum or if we’ll keep you here forever."

Though Archmage Feng Geda Hast didn’t utter a single threatening word, the intimidation was undeniable.

Manson’s gaze flickered, and he gripped his powerful magic wand tighter, with elements swirling around him in a frenzy, as if ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

On the other hand, Feng Geda Hast maintained an ordinary demeanor, seemingly oblivious to Manson’s show of hostility and actions.

But the more nonchalant he appeared, the more people dared not take him lightly and failed to grasp his true capabilities.

In comparison, Manson, who hesitated to take any further action, seemed more like posturing and blustering.