Chapter 258

Nick never liked waiting for others to determine his fate; in fact, he would say it was exactly the opposite of his preference.Yet, that was exactly what he was being forced to do.

He’d set the board as carefully as he could, and even now, he was sure word of his deeds was circulating through the Tower, intriguing masters and becoming subject to gossip among apprentices. But that was all. Whether it would be enough to catch the attention of an Archmage, he’d only find out when the results of his exam were delivered in a day or so.

It would depend on who the master was, of course. If it were Battera, a Prestige-tier druid, who asked, he’d accept. It wouldn’t be ideal, as only an Archmage’s resources would satisfy him, but it would be a good stepping stone.

If it came from someone like Torrentia, who gained the title of Mistress of the Healing Arts through connection and skill rather than sheer power, he might refuse.

It would put him at odds with whoever had sent it, but tying himself to someone only marginally stronger than him felt pointless.

Pacing back and forth in his room, Nick sighed. The fact that he was contemplating upending his approach alone should be enough to indicate that he was too anxious.

“It’s pointless to wait when I know it will only come tomorrow,” he told himself. If he was already rationalizing his potential failure, it was time to make himself busy.

Pushing the window open, he jumped and floated down into the garden, breathing in the soothing floral scent.

Removing the cursed amulet from his ring, Nick held it up to the light, inspecting it with .

The knots in the magical lattice were still there, but now that he knew what he was looking for, he could tell they had been placed there intentionally. Yes, whoever had crafted this amulet intended for the bearer to suffer for their hubris.

“If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you,” he murmured. Nietzsche’s quote suggested that making fear the focus of your life would inevitably lead to more significant issues, yet when interpreted literally, it still held some truth.

Peering through the layers of reality without proper precautions was a dangerous thing, especially when the amulet prevented the wearer from looking away.

Most spirits were generally harmless, only appearing briefly and drifting aimlessly through the eddies. But occasionally, more dangerous entities lurked about.

False Angels were one such threat. The one Nick had defeated and trapped inside his owl totem wasn’t even the most powerful of its kind, and it had still forced him to work hard when he’d been ready for just about anything and in the presence of a teraphim capable of hunting through the ether.

If he hadn’t been prepared, that one spirit would have killed him on the spot.

That same reason was why was so dangerous. Only a rare few people had the wherewithal to understand what was happening when exposed to it, and even then, escaping it would be very hard without the right ritual.

Nick could do it. Hell, he’d done it before when his raid group had been captured in the dungeon by Dewdrop the Smiling Death. Her method had been more direct, simply transferring her prey into her own pocket dimension, but the core idea was very similar.

He wouldn’t mess with space-time magic just yet, not without more than the bare understanding he had of it, but he didn’t doubt he’d learn a lot about that particular art soon, especially with how much it was used within the Tower.

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Ideas raced through his mind, and he could already imagine ’s final form as an eternal prison, tucked away from the material world, so pleasant that anyone trapped inside would never want to leave.

A shiver ran down his spine, and he decided to use it only for limited periods or against the worst enemies. There would be no suffering involved, that was true, but some could argue that such a punishment was worse than death.

Truly, the union of spiritual magic and his occult knowledge was terrifying. He was sure he’d just scratched the surface, yet he had already discovered ways to tear open souls, trap minds, and tear through even the toughest flesh.

Just as Nick was beginning to wonder how much further he could push this particular branch of magic, he felt someone approaching the outer gate of the manse.

As he was starting to realize was typical for her, Sonya seemed to sense the need for her presence before anyone else was aware of it, and somehow found herself right next to the gate when the man arrived.

His presence was veiled in the ether, clearly due to the effect of some artifact, but enough peeked through to tell Nick that whoever this was, he was powerful. Very powerful, potentially.

Nick didn’t even bother feeling guilty about overhearing the conversation and manipulated the winds so that the sounds of their voices could reach him.

“Lord mage, what brings you here?" Sonya asked, bowing lower than she usually did to visitors at the manor. From her confusion, Nick could tell she didn’t recognize who this was, but her Maid instincts told her he was important, so she showed the proper respect.

“Good morrow, maid. I seek to speak with your master about his charge,” the man replied, his voice a low bass.

There was nothing particularly flashy or showy about his appearance. He was old, as evidenced by his silver and white short beard and hair, but he was also stronger than Battera, as shown by his thick arms and powerful legs.

His robes were simple, with just a delicate gold filigree on the hems. He carried no staff, but he wore a medallion and a few modest rings sat on his fingers.

All in all, if Nick had met him on the streets, he would have thought him an experienced mage, if nothing to worry about.

That was enough for him to realize this man couldn’t be who he presented himself to be. Old mages were rarely so unassuming, and the fact that Nick could sense almost no fluctuations of mana from the many objects he carried, even though they were all etched with runes and circles, showed they had to be masterworks despite their simple appearance.

Sonya bowed again, “Of course, I shall inform Master Xander that you wish to speak to him.” That said, she quickly scurried away after getting a nonchalant nod from the old mage and hurried to where Xander was meditating with a sword in his lap.

The moment she reached him, the man’s eyes snapped open.

“Master, a mage is waiting at the gates and has asked to speak with you about your charge. He seems powerful,” she tacked at the end, almost twisting her fingers.

The old swordsman nodded silently and smoothly lifted himself off the ground, grabbing his robe from a nearby chair. “You did well, Sonya. Go and see to your duties now; I will not need an attendant for this meeting.”

With that, he headed to the entrance, where the mage was still waiting for him.

That would align with what he knew from One-Ear. Archmage Tholm of Artificing had shown some interest in him even before the exam, so it would make sense he’d put in his bid.

Really, it was what Nick had been aiming for in the first place. But why would the man come all the way over here?

Nick was also a bit annoyed that neither elder seemed to think he needed to be involved in the talks, especially since it would greatly impact his future.

Yet, he could do nothing but stay where he was until he was called, because making a bad impression now was even worse than the prospect of being kept in the dark.

He monitored the situation, trying to be as subtle as possible, but could only sigh when he felt Xander’s will become manifest and block any form of magical spying from overhearing the conversation.

Thus, he sat where he was, doing his best to interpret the silent conversation taking place on the other side of the manor.

Both men appeared to know each other, and they greeted each other with respectful nods. They weren’t particularly warm, but Nick had yet to see Xander show more than mild amusement or approval, so that was probably normal.

They appeared to be having a casual chat as they leisurely walked through the garden, pausing now and then before resuming their stroll.

Whatever Xander did to prevent magical spying also blurred their images enough that Nick couldn’t read their lips, but body language was still clear enough for him to notice some tension, even though the situation didn’t seem immediately dangerous.

They kept talking for another fifteen minutes, after which they shook hands with restrained, yet satisfied looks, and Xander accompanied the mage out of the manse, whereupon he turned away without looking back.

The old mage chuckled softly to himself for a moment, then looked directly at where Nick was hiding among the bushes half a mile away and winked before vanishing completely.

“What the— that was teleportation again! So it doesn’t necessarily need the Tower as an anchor? No, perhaps he teleported to the tower, so it could be a beacon? It’s definitely bright enough…”

Unfortunately, the spell was woven so quickly and efficiently that Nick could only pick up the bare bones of it, which still was enough to tell him that whoever that mage was, he was very powerful indeed.

“Cease your muttering, Nicholas,” Xander’s voice reached him, causing him to stiffen out of reflex before he turned around with a miffed expression.

“I don’t appreciate not being let into that conversation when it so clearly involved me,” he shot back.

Xander looked at him silently for a moment before snorting, “You children are lucky the world has gone soft. Back in my day, apprentices were bought and sold like cattle. These days, Berea even has laws requiring consent beforehand.”

Nick felt his eyebrows crawl up in surprise, but before he could ask what was going on, Xander turned around and motioned for him to follow. “Come on, arrogant child. We shall discuss your future as an Archmage’s apprentice, since you seem so sure you know better.”

Despite the harsh tone, Nick could sense a glimmer of approval inside him, so he grinned and scampered after him.