Chapter 197

The legendary mages convened, their discussions veiled in obscurity.

Proposing the subversive notions of the "Inflammation Theory" demanded meticulous dissemination: orchestrating scholarly papers, discreetly spreading whispers, and guiding mages through gradual comprehension to avoid sparking widespread controversy. This was a topic of deliberation.

Strategizing how legendary mages could tactically retract, ensuring a seamless succession within their ranks to prevent destabilization of their headquarters, required thorough discussion.

Simultaneously relinquishing territories while deploying smokescreens, ensuring the Radiant Church remained unsuspecting, and coordinating explanations and resolutions among allies were also subjects of debate.

Even among the eight schools of magic and various mage organizations, coordination was imperative. For instance, the Thunderhorn faction reaping the benefits of nurturing a legendary seed shouldn’t expect the Black Crow Swamp to weather the storms for them!

Moreover, information must be sealed, and Garrett’s thesis must be clandestinely concealed, down to his very name! External containment, internal suppression!

Fortunate were these legendary mages, each having undergone multiple life energy transferences, their vigor abundant, allowing them to convene for a day and a night uninterrupted. Meditation? Sleep? Rarely did they meditate unless the heavens threatened to fall, and it was a rarity indeed for them to forgo sleep, unable to replenish magic naturally, relying on magical elixirs akin to mana potions...

Moreover, Igor Peak was the kingdom’s safest refuge. As long as the Igor’s Veil remained operational, even if the Radiant Church launched a full-scale assault, the legendary mages could hold out until they were well-rested.

Such a meeting format proved highly efficient. After a day and a night, the legendary mages, having shattered two tables and torn through stacks of manuscripts, the meeting room resembled a snow-covered landscape. Astonishingly, they had indeed finalized all agendas. Master Decar departed with great enthusiasm, summoning his disciples:

"Carlisle, fetch that lad. Let him stay in the Tower of Heaven to study in peace until the dust settles."

Carlisle obeyed. The magical airship he utilized was borrowed from the Magic Council for wartime use and was not his own possession. Thus, he descended from the mountain on a magical railcar. Arriving at the Bridge Academy of Magic, he inquired of the assistant:

"Today is a day off! Garrett Nordmark...? Shall I accompany you to the library, or perhaps search the student dormitories?"

The dormitories were empty. The library, however, was filled with students. Yet, after a thorough search, Garrett was nowhere to be found. Fortunately, some students from the training class were studying inside. Carlisle interrogated a few and managed to learn Garrett’s whereabouts:

"Garrett? Recently, he’s been at the infirmary every afternoon..."

Master Carlisle: "..."

Why was he frequenting the infirmary daily? Was he considering a career change to priesthood? Isn’t being a mage good enough? Can’t the Magic Council support him financially?!

Luckily, the infirmary wasn’t far away, and in the fishy-smelling harbor district, this two-story building was quite conspicuous. Master Carlisle dismissed the assistant, summoned a Phantom Stallion, and mounted it. The magical steed galloped, breaking through the wind. Soon, they arrived at the infirmary’s entrance.

"Where is Garrett Nordmark?"

Master Carlisle didn’t even dismount. He dispersed the Phantom Stallion and landed on his feet. He dashed into the infirmary, scanning anxiously. However, the infirmary was deserted. Not a trace of Garrett or even a single priest could be found. Glancing at the sign that read "Closed Today" hanging high...

"Where is everyone?!"

"Coming, coming!" The door to the inner room creaked, and a middle-aged man in robes, holding a quill pen, rushed out. There were no professional insignias on him; instead, his pockets jingled with coins, presumably an accountant. Seeing the four golden stars on Master Carlisle’s badge, he trembled, hastily bowing deeply:

"Are you looking for Garrett? He’s not here today!"

"Where did he go?!"

"To Oakridge..."

"When did he leave?"

"He should have departed last night... Yesterday morning, Elder Donald sent a message, saying the physical examination was arranged, asking everyone to go... A ship came to pick them up last night, they should have arrived by now..."

Master Carlisle nearly choked. It was almost dark; did he have to rush over in the dead of night?! Oakridge, Oakridge was quite a few miles away from Nevis City!

Should he wait for two more days? The training class had eight days of lessons followed by two days off; today and tomorrow were off, so the day after tomorrow, or perhaps tomorrow night, he could find that lad in the academy. Master Carlisle pondered, then shook his head, dismissing the thought:

It was easy to wait in the city for two days, but what if the teachers asked? Oh, he went to Oakridge, and I didn’t bother to find him, so I stayed in the academy...

Recalling his teacher’s Thunderous Wrath, even though Carlisle held the esteemed rank of a 14th-level Grand Mage, he shuddered and promptly summoned his Phantom Stallion. Mounting the horse, he grabbed the reins, and the magical mount soared into the sky.

—The Phantom Stallion, a Tier Three spell of the Arcane School, usable by mages of the fifth level. With Carlisle’s mastery at the 14th level, this magical horse could traverse swamps and quicksand effortlessly, move across water, and even fly.

From Nevis City to Oakridge, it was more convenient to fly straight there, bypassing a big bend in the river.

As the crimson sun gradually descended, Carlisle braved the biting cold wind, racing against time, and finally arrived at Oakridge before nightfall. He inquired all along his journey, rushing to Elder Wood’s residence, and with a wave of his hand, he cast a Voice Amplification spell upon himself:

"Wood! Is Garrett Nordmark with you?"

This single inquiry, even without the amplification spell, carried astonishing volume. Yet, the longhouse remained eerily silent, devoid of any response, not even a whisper of footsteps or breaths. After a while, an apprentice priest hurriedly rushed over from afar:

"Master, hello! Elder Wood is out today. May I convey any message on his behalf?"

"I’m not looking for him!—Where is Garrett Nordmark?"

"You should ask him! He and Elder went to the Augustus Castle together. It was arranged beforehand to conduct a comprehensive physical examination for everyone in the castle, along with promoting a divine spell..."

Carlisle: "..."

This was bad. Fortunately, he came to nab someone today, or else, he might have been led astray by the Naturalist Cult...

He nodded absentmindedly, spurred the Phantom Stallion once more, and took to the skies. The Augustus Castle was extremely easy to find; departing from Nevis City to the northeast, flying along the river, lakes, and canals, one would reach the starting point of the Denis Lake. From high above, the castle twinkled with lights, bustling with activity.

Carlisle cast two defensive spells upon himself and dove downward. He circled above the castle, amplifying his voice to the maximum, and thundered:

"Where is Garrett Nordmark?!"

His shout reverberated throughout the entire castle. In a small room beside the main hall downstairs, Garrett, with one hand covered in glycerin and the other clad in sheepskin gloves, raised his head in bewilderment.

What’s with all the yelling?

I’m just here for a check-up, as arranged over a month ago. It’s not like I’m running around randomly...

If the Magic Council won’t give me an offer, I still need to support myself! What’s wrong with being a doctor... I still have data to collect and papers to publish...

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