Chapter Sixty-Nine: Deprivation (1)

Why would a woman like Procis be able to use the Blazing Teleportation, a spell that only those who have reached the rank of Archmage can perform? In that instant, Will thought of a single explanation: concealment!

Within the hierarchy of magic, Archmage holds a unique position—indeed, it is the true watershed of a mage's power. Although Mage is the lowest tier among sorcerers, it is also the first threshold; becoming a true sorcerer depends entirely on attaining this rank. Archmage, however, is the second threshold, the crux that impedes a mage’s progress. Yet, once broken through, all obstacles become stepping stones, and in every aspect—spellcasting, control, understanding—there is a qualitative leap. Only then does a mage truly earn the right to attempt those legendary higher echelons of power.

Take, for example, Blazing Teleportation, a fire spell that, through the transformation of magical energy, enables a mage to treat fire magic as a spatial force, thus achieving instantaneous movement. Though Will could not fathom Procis’s reasons for doing so, this was the only possible explanation for how she, a mere Ninth-Tier Grand Mage, could wield a signature teleportation spell reserved for Archmages.

In this world where strength reigns above all, the greater one’s power, the greater the rewards. For someone like Procis, leader of the Mage Guild, formidable power would draw yet more mages to her cause, perhaps even shift the public’s almost twisted perception of sorcerers. As a court magician, greater strength meant greater favor from the royal family—power, wealth, and status at her fingertips. Yet, for all this, Procis had chosen to conceal her true strength… Could it be… this woman was under some form of threat?

The very boldness of this idea startled Will himself, for even in this age of magic, Archmages were rare, and their destructive power was beyond question. With their spells prepared, an Archmage could annihilate a thousand-strong army in an instant! At this level, they need not fear warriors in close combat; even when pitted against a warrior of similar prowess, an Archmage could instantly defend or teleport away to evade attacks. It was nearly unthinkable that someone of Procis’s strength and status would hide her abilities out of fear.

Wait, wait…

A sudden flash of insight flickered through Will’s disordered mind, as if he had almost grasped some elusive clue. He quickly shut his eyes and painstakingly reassembled the fragments of his earlier conjectures.

Procis might indeed be under threat, but not the threat of death—those capable of threatening an Archmage must themselves be fearsomely powerful, and such beings were exceedingly rare in this land. No, the threat was likely aimed elsewhere, perhaps at something—or someone—she valued deeply, compelling her to hide her strength. No, not just compelling, but forcing her hand!

But what could possibly threaten Procis? With her current power and status, what could hold such sway over her…?

Instead of dispelling the mystery, Will found his doubts deepening. Unbeknownst to him, he was already stepping into the depths of a hidden undercurrent, drawing ever closer to its heart.

“Sir?”

At that moment, the voice of Buck, the sharp-eyed man, suddenly rang in Will’s ears, jolting him from his thoughts. Turning, he regarded Buck with a hint of displeasure. “What is it?”

Buck, naturally, noticed Will’s impatience. With an awkward smile, he glanced furtively around before stepping closer and lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “Sir, do you know where that lady has gone?”

Procis was gone, but the shadow of fear she had cast remained burned into Buck and his companions’ hearts. Even mentioning “that lady” sent a visible shudder of terror across Buck’s face.

Will’s first reaction was a sinking feeling—trouble had come knocking.

Indeed, Procis’s presence had cowed these bandits, but it couldn’t last forever. She was not here now. These were hardened thieves: cunning, sly, and above all else, cowards. Will doubted they would be foolish enough to stay here and wait for Procis’s return. Likely, if his answer confirmed their suspicions, they would flee this cursed place at the first opportunity.

So, they were probing the boy who stood before them, certain he would be far easier to handle than that terrifying woman.

But Will was no ordinary youth. Though he appeared to be no more than sixteen, if one added the years of his previous life, he was certainly older than any of these men.

“You mean my teacher?”

Will put on a show of helplessness, sighing at Buck with exasperation. “Oh, she’s always like this—leaving in such a hurry every time. It’s truly a headache…”

“But—” Buck had no patience for a child’s complaints and was about to interrupt when his words caught in his throat. Along with the three men behind him, he stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape—enough to swallow two eggs whole.

What devilry had they just witnessed? This mere boy—this brat—had casually conjured a ball of fire! What’s more, it grew larger and larger before their eyes; in the blink of an eye, it had swelled to over a meter across. The scarlet flames crackled and burned, radiating scorching heat—a vivid reminder that this was no illusion.

“All right, gentlemen, there’s no need to worry,” Will said calmly. “I’m sure my teacher is waiting ahead for us. We only need to catch up.”

Buck’s face twitched involuntarily at Will’s words. Inwardly, he cursed Will a thousand times over. Perhaps if they stayed put, there would be a chance to escape. But to follow into the forest, to seek out that she-devil? Over my dead body! Buck forced a stiff smile. “Sir, I recall your teacher told us to stay here and not wander off. Perhaps we should obey and wait, in case she returns…”

“That was her instruction. Now, I am giving you mine.”

Before Buck could finish, Will cut him off coldly. With a flick of his arm, the ball of fire arced behind him, forming a blazing barrier that neatly blocked their retreat.

In that instant, the boy’s imposing presence made Buck’s heart race with fear. A bead of cold sweat traced its way down his cheek as he glanced sideways at the fire still dancing in Will’s palm. He couldn’t help but wonder—what would it feel like to have that fire sear his flesh?

Unconsciously, Buck swallowed hard and, turning his head, exchanged a helpless glance with the three men behind him. He could only shake his head in resignation.