Crystalis.
In a room at the top of the Magus Tower, Nathan's expression was grave as he stared at the magical wall before him.
Displayed on the wall was a bird's-eye view of a scene.
People walking, sitting, lying down on the ground, and even their facial expressions were clearly visible.
Moreover, some emitted varying intensities of light, some from the back of their heads, others from their lower abdomen.
The scene was of a government office.
In the alley in front of the main entrance, an old man was sitting under a willow tree cooling off.
A very bright light spot was emanating from his abdomen.
At the root of the wall behind the office, a wizard with his face covered by a hood was fortune-telling for passersby, occasionally glancing towards the office.
A strikingly bright white light spot was visible at the back of his head.
Nathan's face turned grim.
On the other side of the magical wall was a row of light spots of varying brightness, each marked with different professional levels.
"One is a level 4 warrior! The other, a level 5 magus!"
Either one of them, in close proximity, could take his life within three seconds.
"They really think too highly of me!"
Nathan sneered coldly.
He could guess that as soon as the document of his dismissal arrived, the moment he stepped out of the Intelligence Bureau, he would immediately become a lifeless corpse.
"Mentor, could you please check the Clark family mansion for me?" Nathan's breathing was a bit rushed, urgently wanting to know more.
Beside him on the sofa sat a woman in casual attire, cradling a tabby lion cat in her arms.
Around thirty years old, she was strikingly beautiful with a well-proportioned figure, snow-white skin, and dense, evenly brown hair.
Her lake-blue velvet shirt was buttoned high, accentuating the elegant curve of her slender neck.
There was a faint smile on her face, which, even without looking directly at anyone, always seemed to convey her attention.
Nathan found it a peculiar sensation, which he referred to as "mentor's care."
This woman was his mentor, Milo Shulin.
She was the only level 8 magus in the Eastern regions, holding the title of 'legendary', and the Guardian of Dracoria.
Her name, Milo Shulin, was known to everyone, not just in Dracoria but across the entire Eastern region.
As a string of incantations flowed from Milo's delicate lips, the scene on the magical wall shifted, finally freezing over an aerial view of a dilapidated mansion.
There were many people with glowing points on the ground. In the center of the mansion, an area remained persistently blurred.
"There…" Nathan pointed at the screen.
"That's an arcane barrier," Milo Shulin explained. "Every family has its own inherited arcane magic. Barriers formed by such magic can shield perception."
After a long moment, Nathan let out a deep breath, shifting his gaze away from the wall.
He hadn't found Wales.
Things were progressing too fast; Aidan the Pyromancer's death was too sudden.
Perhaps the Sacred Emperor, not wanting the other four major families to take advantage of the situation, had shown leniency towards the Golden House.
After this incident, the Golden House would undoubtedly be deeply indebted to the Sacred Emperor, daring not to harbor any second thoughts.
But Nathan was different!
He had already crossed the Golden House's red line.
All of the Golden House's losses, including the death of Aidan the Pyromancer, would be attributed to him.
As long as there were survivors in the Golden House, there would be an unending feud with him, with no room for reconciliation.
By now, the key figures of the Golden House's second generation were likely plotting his demise, eagerly awaiting to see how he would meet his end.
"Mentor, could you grant me two more days?" Nathan asked after a period of silence.
Milo Shulin nodded,
"I will meet with the Sacred Emperor and secure two days for you. But don't delay; it's better to leave the capital as soon as possible."
"Eris will accompany you until you safely reach Nebula Academy. Once there, if you need assistance, you can look for Cliff."
Her enunciation was crystal clear, giving the impression that each word was heard separately, yet it was merely an illusion.
Like the "mentor's care," Milo's words seemed to contain knowledge about cognition.
"Thank you, mentor!" Nathan bowed in gratitude, achieving his first goal.
He then took out a blue-covered notebook from his coat and handed it over.
"Mentor, this is a tome of fire magic I obtained while investigating the Golden House. It might hold some research value for you."
"Oh!" Milo Shulin took the notebook, noting the title 'Pyroalchemy Primer' on the cover with a raised eyebrow, and started flipping through it.
After a while, she closed the book, a satisfied look on her face.
"Indeed, the Golden House, with its millennia of inheritance, has unique insights into the analysis of fire magic."
She then began to explain some of the more complex points in the book, even patiently providing examples.
"In this world, nothing is constant. The decomposition of objects releases fire, like wood burning..."
Two hours later, Nathan left the Magus Tower, thoroughly satisfied.
Not only had he secured a delay of two days before his dismissal, but he also fully understood the complex parts of "Pyroalchemy Primer," ready to practice according to the tome.
Additionally, he now had a lion cat in his arms.
This cat, with fur resembling that of a tiger, had been with his mentor for many years and showed no signs of aging.
Its most unique ability was long-distance tracking, known as Kilomile Roar.
It was this ability that allowed Milo to significantly deter opponents within and outside the empire.
With two days left in his position, Nathan wanted to make full use of this time, and the tracking ability was crucial.
Contemplating his plans, Nathan stepped into the carriage, escorted by a group of armored guards, and left the verdant avenue.
Lia was still sitting inside the carriage, her eyes red as if she had cried.
Seeing Nathan enter, she quickly moved aside.
"When exactly do you plan to release me?" she asked wearily.
During the noon attack, she had tried to escape but was intercepted by the city guards who arrived upon hearing the news.
Thus, poor Lia acquired another charge of conspiring with the assassin and was kept by Nathan under the pretext of needing to interrogate her for important information.
It was a necessary measure.
Having Lia by his side at critical moments could at least make the enemies hesitant.
Regarding Wales, he had already notified the security office to issue a warrant for his arrest.
He would complete the formalities once he returned to the Intelligence Bureau.
"My dear Miss Lia, as long as you behave, you can be free very soon," Nathan said with a smile, deliberately glancing at Lia's full chest, his tone casual.
Lia fell silent, bowing her head, lost in thought.
The carriage still retained a smoky smell from the noon incident.
Nathan loosened his grip, and the tiger-striped lion cat began to sniff around the carriage, seemingly interested in the scorched areas.
Soon arriving at the Intelligence Bureau, Nathan caught a glimpse of the old man cooling off under the willow tree, but it was only a fleeting glance as he alighted from the carriage and entered the office alone.
As soon as he entered, he saw a group of people moving things out of the building.
His usually respectful subordinates now ignored him completely.
When he reached his office, he found that the entire setup had been replaced with new furnishings.
His deputy, Tig, who was in his thirties with a slightly sunken nose and a widower from the Silver House, was sitting at his desk, directing others to arrange the room.
In Nathan's memory, Tig had always been meek and indecisive.
But his attitude now was quite intriguing.
Just then, an employee carrying a potted plant passed by.
Nathan grabbed the pot and smashed it on the floor.
The subordinates all looked over, forcing Tig to acknowledge him.
"Well, well, if it isn't our Lord Clark returning!"
Tig leaned back in his chair, his smile more mocking than welcoming.
"I'm curious, haven't you received your dismissal notice from the inner court yet?"
As he spoke, the others resumed their work as if they had expected this confrontation, pretending to ignore the argument between the two officials.