After speaking to Rainey, Ronan casually tossed him back to the ground. Rainey sat there in a daze, but soon found a renewed sense of energy, scrambling to his feet. He roared, wielding his scimitar to fend off the encroaching Ghost Flowers before chasing after the figure ahead.
Together, they sprinted out of the Ghost Flower field, racing across the unclaimed terrain and over a high embankment. Suddenly, the view opened up to reveal a serene landscape: a vivid blue sky above a verdant lawn, a lake flanked by poplars, and a charming white cottage.
The picturesque, tranquil scene felt like waking from a nightmare into reality for Ronan. The pervasive sense of danger that had lingered in his mind ebbed away like a receding tide.
"Are we at the Corpse Garden's entrance?" Ronan pondered, his eyes flickering with realization as he slowed his pace on the lawn, retrieving a potion from his storage pouch to drink leisurely.
Despite not having tapped into his domain, the successive battles had nearly depleted his mental energy. This was the perfect moment to replenish it.
Ronan was increasingly confident in his earlier hypothesis—they were indeed traversing from the depths of the "Corpse Garden" outward. The white cottage ahead might have been the residence of the garden's owner or caretaker.
Despite their intrusion and the commotion they'd caused, no black-robed figure had emerged to stop them. Either the garden's owner was absent, or, as Faor claimed, the visible threats had been dealt with by him.
Ronan suspected the former.
"Huff—huff—"
A sound of heavy breathing caught up from behind.
It was the young wizard Rainey. Ronan's pace had been brisk, making Rainey's ability to keep up despite his injuries seem miraculous.
Catching up with Ronan, Rainey stood gasping for air. For most wizards, such high-intensity fleeing wasn't easy.
Fortunately, Rainey's robust physique and Ronan's verbal provocation had pushed him to tap into hidden reserves of strength.
Once Rainey regained his breath, his first act was to approach Ronan with sincere gratitude, saying, "Thank you."
Ronan waved it off, indicating it was nothing.
Rainey's expression was complex, filled with a mix of closeness, gratitude, and deep respect towards Ronan, as if he truly regarded him as a partner.
"Can we officially meet? I'm..."
Rainey mustered the courage to introduce himself, but Ronan cut him off mid-sentence.
"Your name is Rainey, I know."
Ronan stowed the empty potion bottle back in his pouch, replying offhandedly.
Rainey paused, initially surprised and delighted, but his expression soon darkened.
"You know me. So what you said about Iris... it's true?"
"Uh..." Ronan hesitated, considering before briefly recounting what he'd witnessed at the Drunken Stag Tavern to Rainey, ending with a word of comfort.
"As your good friend, isn't it reasonable for him to comfort your heartbroken girlfriend?"
"That bastard Matthew!"
Clearly, Ronan's words did little to comfort.
"When I return, I swear I'll break his hands!"
Rainey said, cheeks flushed, fists clenched in anger.
Ronan offered a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, then began walking toward the white cottage below.
Rainey, having just learned the truth, followed Ronan, venting his grievances.
"You don't know, I have great potential, but because of him, I didn't join the academy."
"He was my best friend; we met Iris later."
"Did I join this task for myself?
I wanted to earn resources for him, and Iris too!
I hoped the three of us could all become formal wizards."
"I treated him so well, yet he did this behind my back. That despicable bastard betrayed me!"
"Oh, by the way, I don't know your name yet?"
Ronan was speechless, about to casually introduce himself when a shadow flitted across the sky.
Several crows appeared, alighting on the poplar branches ahead, quietly preening their feathers.
Ronan paused, his relaxed demeanor fading.
For some reason, the sight of these crows stirred an inexplicable unease within him.
"Forget it."
Ronan's gaze flickered as he neared the small white house, suddenly deciding, "Let's not approach. We'll go that way."
Initially intending to investigate the house, he changed his mind, opting to bypass it in search of an exit.
Rainey had no objections, nodding repeatedly.
As they prepared to circle the house and head onto the grass, noise emanated from the white cottage.
"Creak—"
The door opened.
"Watch out."
Ronan raised his staff, quietly warning Rainey, mental energy poised for action, ready for battle.
Rainey gripped his scimitar, tense as if facing an imminent threat.
Finally, the door opened, and a figure emerged.
"Master Faor!"
Rainey's exclamation shattered the tense atmosphere.
Ronan was momentarily stunned, lowering his staff.
To his surprise, it was Faor who emerged. Faor seemed equally startled to see them, his face showing surprise.
"Thank goodness, it's Master Faor!"
Rainey's voice overflowed with relief and joy as he lowered his scimitar and rushed toward Faor.
Ronan felt a slight relief. Despite his suspicions and distrust of Faor, encountering an ally, especially the strongest leader on their side, provided reassurance in this foreign territory associated with the black robes.
Rainey ran toward Faor, like a lost child finding his "family."
Trailing behind, Ronan glanced up at the crows, noting their ceased preening and cold stares.
His unease intensified.
Ronan frowned, debating whether to express his concerns to Faor.
He instinctively looked at Faor, noticing the wizard's peculiar smile, his lips moving subtly.
Rainey's eager approach.
Faor's unsettling smile.
The two images alternated in Ronan's mind, a powerful sense of danger growing like vines from within.
"Stop! Ray..."
Ronan could no longer suppress his instincts, shouting out.
Simultaneously, a soft incantation slipped from Faor's lips.
"Pop—"
A bubble-like sound echoed, followed by a faint thud.
"Boom—"
In front of Ronan, Rainey was inexplicably struck by a mysterious force, his body exploding without warning.
"Bang!"
Ronan froze mid-shout, eyes wide, as a warm, metallic breeze splattered across his face, warm liquid slowly trailing down.
"Tap—tap—"
Faor descended the cottage steps, smiling gracefully.
The shock and confusion in Ronan's eyes gradually faded, replaced by numbness and calm.
"Why?"
Ronan asked Faor, using his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face.
"He didn't do anything wrong, did he?"
Ronan spoke softly, regretting not having introduced himself to Rainey.
This mediocre wizard, who sought a Spirit Ignition Potion for his friends, was gone just like that.
"No."
Faor shook his head, "But his survival surprised me, given I sent you on the most dangerous path.
Oh, the academy's quota for Spirit Ignition Potions for you wanderers isn't large. As the mission leader, I'm responsible for controlling the survivors."
Faor's eyes feigned sincerity, as if Rainey's death was merely routine.
Ronan remained silent.
After several breaths, he asked again, "Then why not kill me as well?"
Faor chuckled, turning to call behind him.
"Because there's a more spectacular plan for you."
As he spoke, another figure emerged from the white house.
Dressed in academy robes, with a detached demeanor—it was Linus.
Ronan instantly understood.
"So, I'll still die, right?"
Ronan asked Faor seriously.
Faor laughed heartily, saying nothing, casually draping his arm around Linus's shoulders as he joined him.
Ronan lowered his head, deep in thought.
Faor watched him with interest, anticipating his next move.
After a few seconds, Ronan looked up, fixing his gaze on Linus.
"Linus, we've had no real conflict, have we?"
Ronan's tone was earnest, "I even saved your life once."
Linus stared blankly at Ronan, sneering at the mention of his past rescue.
Ronan persisted, "We were once partners. If I inadvertently offended you, I apologize.
I'll forgo the mission reward.
You need the Spirit Ignition Potion too, don't you, Linus?
Let me live... just let me survive."
Ronan's plea was sincere, almost begging for mercy.
But it only amused Faor, while Linus's eyes grew colder, more disdainful.
Realizing his words failed, Ronan seemed to make a decision.
Ronan bit his lip, subtly revealing a layer of "disguise."
"Huh?"
When his ninth-level apprentice energy emerged from beneath the seventh-level facade, Faor couldn't help but express surprise.
Linus too showed signs of shock and intrigue.
"Linus!"
Ronan took a deep breath, meeting Linus's gaze, "Don't you want to know how I advanced to a ninth-level apprentice so quickly?
Why I, as a mid-level apprentice, can cast spells rivaling high-level zero-order spells?
Aren't you curious?"
Ronan's voice resonated across the quiet lawn. Faor's smile faded, while Linus's gaze wavered.
"Secrets."
Ronan's eyes swept over them, driving his staff into the ground, raising his right hand, left hand gripping a bone ring on his finger, "In exchange for my survival."
Faced with Ronan's proposal, Linus stared deeply at him, silently mouthing words to Faor.
Faor's expression was unreadable, his eyes flickering.
After a moment, Faor spoke calmly, "What do you mean? That weak ghost in your cheap ring made you who you are?"
"It's not an ordinary ghost."
Ronan shook his head, "A dead wizard's remnant soul. He claimed he was immensely powerful, possessing vast knowledge and ancient heritage.
I don't know if he's truthful, but so far, what he's taught me... has been immensely helpful."
Faor squinted, his sharp gaze seemingly probing Ronan's soul.
Ronan met his eyes, feigning appropriate tension and concern.
"Give me the ring."
Faor ordered coldly, pointing, "Then leave."
"No."
Ronan shook his head, "I need assurance, to leave safely, then I'll hand it over."
"Do you think you can bargain with me?"
Faor's tone turned icy.
Ronan appeared cowed by Faor's sudden intimidation, momentarily speechless.
After consideration, he spoke again, struggling, "Then promise! Let me leave alive, and get my reward, or I'll destroy the ring!
Even if killing me is like squashing an ant, it takes time, right?"
Faor regarded Ronan coldly, a glint in his eyes.
After a moment, he relented, nodding, "Fine, I promise."
He extended his hand to Ronan, speaking warmly:
"Now... hand it over."
Ronan hesitated, nodded, and began approaching Faor.
Leaving his staff behind, he removed the ring, his demeanor a mix of nervousness and cautious deference.
"I trust Master Faor to keep his word."
"Of course."
Faor nodded with a smile, while Linus watched Ronan with disdain, like observing prey willingly entering a trap.
"Give it to me, hand it over... I promise you'll get what you want."
Faor's words seemed to soothe Ronan, his grip on the ring loosening, Faor's expression growing warmer.
"Give it."
At Faor's final coaxing, Ronan reached him, lowering his guard, extending the ring to Faor.
However, as the bone ring came into view, a blur of white shot from it, lunging at Faor's face.
"Valensuna! You wretch!"
A woman's shrill voice erupted, sound waves visibly rippling in the air.
The unexpected twist caught Faor off guard, stumbling back.
Simultaneously, Ronan's mental energy surged from calm to boiling, quickly drained.
Thirty-one micro black hole-like points appeared, warping light.
His robe billowed in the violent airflow, hair escaping its silver tie.
Mystical energies surged around him, coalescing into a force field that roared forward like a mighty flood.
At that moment, all previous traces of anxiety, humility, and restraint vanished from Ronan's face.
Replaced by—
An unrestrained, fierce, violent demeanor, fueled by a blazing, undisguised murderous intent!
"Take it!"
"All yours!"
"Along with death!"
Master-level, [Energy Missile - Particle Stream]!
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