Chereads / Wizard Era: Birth of Magic / Chapter 10 - The Aftermath

Chapter 10 - The Aftermath

"Yes, High Priest, I request punishment," Reeves said, lowering his head, not daring to look up at the High Priest above him.

The bald High Priest was very strict with his subordinates. Every failure would result in his punishment. Although no one was seriously injured, nobody wanted to experience it a second time.

"Punishment can wait, you won't escape what's due to you," the bald High Priest waved his hand and said, "Who injured you?"

"It was a third-level wizard, skilled in controlling fire magic, and I believe he could also use lightning magic," Reeves recalled and narrated.

"Oh? Skilled in magic of two elements? Such wizards are rare. Fire is manageable, but it's rare to hear of demons wielding lightning!"

The bald High Priest thought for a moment. Many demons from the abyss could control fire, but lightning was pure positive energy, rarely mastered by demons.

"Did that person have any distinctive features?" the bald High Priest continued to inquire.

"I removed his hood, but his face was cursed, covered by a very evil magical artifact. I didn't see his face," Reeves said, trembling. Not only had he failed to defeat his opponent, but he also didn't even know the enemy's face, unsure of how the High Priest would punish him.

"Right, he was wearing a finely made robe, seemingly flame-resistant, embroidered with gold and silver threads, not something an ordinary tailor could make," Reeves suddenly remembered.

"Oh, a finely made robe..."

The High Priest's face stiffened, as if he thought of something, manipulating pale blue wind in front of Reeves to form a pattern.

"Is this it?"

"Yes, exactly like this robe, High Priest, how do you know?" Reeves asked in surprise, having only seen such a robe once, yet the High Priest also knew!

"That's not for you to know," the bald High Priest said with a dark expression, "Right, put up notices throughout the city, wanted for this individual."

"At your command, High Priest. What should we write for the name?" a white-clothed deacon asked.

"Just call him the 'Evil-faced One.'"

The bishop said casually, then stood up, "Alright, you may leave now."

After saying this, he stood up with a stern face and left the council hall directly.

"The High Priest didn't punish you; you're really lucky!" a white-clothed deacon watching the excitement laughed and said.

"Let's hope he doesn't remember in a couple of days."

Reeves knelt on the ground, pondering. What did that robe signify? Why was the High Priest so concerned?

The High Priest, with a gloomy expression, left the council hall, returned to his office, and began writing a letter. After finishing, he summoned a deacon.

"Take this to the Lady of North Wind City. It must be handed to the Lady herself. No one else is allowed to see it before then."

After sending out the letter, the High Priest sat in his chair with a gloomy expression, his hands covering his bald head, which had very faint, inconspicuous burn marks.

...

The next morning, new wanted posters were posted all over the streets and alleys of Lien City.

This poster was placed in the most conspicuous spot on the notice board, depicting a man in a black robe,

His face was terrifying, like a demon from hell, and his name fittingly matched his image.

Evil-faced One!

That same morning, Horn, who had just gotten up, was blissfully eating soup and dumplings made by Douglas.

While enjoying his meal, Enoch rushed over with a notice, his face bearing a look trying to suppress laughter.

"Guess what I saw?" Enoch teased.

"Not interested." Horn, who hadn't slept well for several days, had just had a good night's sleep and was still groggy.

"Ha! It's this!" Enoch unfolded the crumpled notice in front of Horn.

Oh, a wanted poster, for a thief.

Wait, who is this drawn on here?

Looks familiar.

...

Pfft!

Horn sprayed all the soup in his mouth onto the notice. What is this drawing, and is this name implying I'm ugly?

Douglas wandered over, and Enoch quickly hid the notice, also sitting down to eat. Enoch didn't know Douglas was also a wild witch, thinking of him only as a kind-hearted old carpenter who had taken in Horn.

So he dared not let him see the notice.

"That new kid, come help me with work. You can't just eat and drink for free at my house."

Douglas called out to Enoch and then said to Horn:

"Aunt Meiz's son got a little injured, so Aunt Meiz can't come today. You help look after the shop."

"Alright, teacher," Horn agreed, ignoring Enoch's pleading gaze.

Douglas's carpentry shop had its own store, selling simple wooden tools and children's toys made from wood, all collected from rural carpenters, costing just a few copper coins each.

Douglas only added a copper coin to the purchase price when selling, so the business was decent, but after paying Aunt Meiz and the young man responsible for collecting goods twenty copper coins a day, there wasn't much profit. Sometimes, the business even ran at a loss.

Douglas opened this shop not for profit but to support rural carpenters.

Douglas's Carpentry Shop made real money from crafting high-end wooden furniture. Douglas's craftsmanship was famous throughout Lien City, even the city lord sometimes commissioned furniture from him.

Horn, replacing Aunt Meiz, sat in the shop, flipping through his notes, frowning and pondering with a pen in hand during the rare quiet daytime. He used this time to organize his notes.

He could now master up to third-level magic, with only one third-level spell, Fireball. His second-level spells included Mist and Electric Arc, as well as small Fireball, while his first-level spells were small Flame, Lightning Touch, and Water Flow.

It wasn't that this was his limit, but these were all that Douglas had taught him. Apart from Douglas, he had no other way to acquire spells,

Waiting until Enoch could clearly see his own magical circles, he might add another very useful spell.

"Hey! What are you looking at?" As Horn was engrossed in his study, a crisp voice sounded in his ear.

Horn startled and looked up to see a ten-year-old girl standing on tiptoe peering at his notes!

Horn breathed a sigh of relief, sweating coldly as he closed his notes. They contained many rebellious ideas, and luckily it was just a girl. If it had been a priest, he might have been exposed. The past few days had made Horn somewhat careless.

But now the question arose, how did a mere girl elude Horn's perception?