As Duwei's dagger plunged into the knight's chest, a piercing cry suddenly erupted from the gryphons that filled the sky. Like a frenzied tide, they surged toward him from all directions, their razor-sharp claws poised to rend him to pieces.
Everyone shut their eyes, convinced their deaths were inevitable. Yet, at that very moment, something extraordinary occurred.
The first gryphon to reach Duwei abruptly erupted into countless points of light, and the others froze mid-air as though time itself had halted. Their bodies fractured, each fissure radiating dazzling brilliance. Then, in an instant, they disintegrated into fine particles of light, scattering on the wind.
The evening sky was transformed into a luminous daybreak. Duwei stood resolute, gazing at the surreal spectacle with a sardonic smile, while the others bowed their heads, unable to face the blinding radiance.
As the gryphons dissolved, the warped space around them seemed to reset. The forest, the mountains, and the sunset returned to their familiar forms. The pools of blood and mutilated corpses vanished, replaced by unconscious bodies lying haphazardly on the ground—guards of the Rowland family and the defeated Span knights, all alive but fainted.
Duwei surveyed his unscathed body, the gory wounds gone as if erased. At his feet lay Robert, similarly uninjured, even at the spot where Duwei had struck him. The knight's armor bore only a faint scratch, a testament to the blow's insignificance.
Duwei roused Robert with a firm slap. As the knight opened his eyes to meet his master's, Duwei smiled faintly. "Apologies for the theatrics, but you were the heart of this illusion. The gryphons sprang from the fears etched in your memories. By subduing you within the dream, I cut off its source, collapsing the illusion."
The guards, astonished by their restored health and the inexplicable vanishing of their fallen comrades' injuries, could only stare at their young master in awe. The sole exception was Rowlin, whose wound remained—an unavoidable reality, as her Moon Tribe's secret art, the Anti-Magic Domain, had pulled her outside the illusion.
Amidst the confusion, Duwei retrieved his dagger and advanced toward a faintly twitching creature in the underbrush. It was no larger than a squirrel, its green fur blending seamlessly with the grass. Cornered, the trembling creature emitted a terrified squeak. When it tried to flee, Duwei's thrown dagger landed before it, and his boot pinned its tail to the ground.
The gathered crowd saw it clearly now—a plump, green-furred being with a body resembling a squirrel's but sporting a peculiar crystalline horn on its forehead. As it thrashed, the horn emitted a beam of light, striking Duwei. He froze momentarily, memories of terror flooding his mind, as though his deepest fears had been unearthed and laid bare. Shaking his head sharply, he dispelled the onslaught.
A dark fury flickered in Duwei's eyes. He seized the creature by its throat, his voice low and icy. "Searching for fear within me? You've chosen the wrong target. My fears… they do not belong to this world."
As if understanding his words, the creature struggled in desperation, its horn flashing ineffectually. Duwei's grip tightened, his disdain unrelenting.
"Master!" Sorcerer Solskjaer's voice rang with astonishment. He hurried over, his gaze alight with recognition. "A 'Fear Mirage Beast'! Thought extinct for centuries! Its horn, already an inch long, marks it as a juvenile, barely a century old!"
Duwei's tone remained cold. "A rare magical beast, is it? How useful is it?"
Solskjaer, barely concealing his greed, explained, "Its horn grants immunity to most psychic magic. A priceless treasure! Its fur, too, is invaluable in alchemy."
As the mage spoke, a signal flare from another search party arced into the sky, bursting in fiery brilliance. Before anyone could act, a green flame materialized before them, and from it stepped a figure cloaked in gold, bearing the three-leaf clover insignia of an Archmage—a figure of profound power and mystery.
The golden-clad figure removed their pointed hat, revealing a young woman with delicate features flushed with unease. Her soft voice stammered nervously. "P-pardon me… That creature… it's m-my master's pet. Please, may I t-take it back? I-I'll be punished if I fail."
The group stared, stunned by the incongruity of her timid demeanor and formidable rank. Even Duwei narrowed his eyes, assessing the situation.A mage.An Archmage of the eighth rank or higher.A girl who looked no older than eighteen, shy and trembling like a sheltered noble lady venturing out for the first time.
Most curiously, she was a stammerer.
Onlookers couldn't help but widen their eyes at the sight of this pitiful girl. Her cheeks flushed red, and tears threatened to spill from her large, sorrowful eyes. Even the warriors instinctively lowered their swords.
This girl hardly seemed a threat.
Even Du Wei paused, perplexed. Could this timid girl, as meek as a frightened rabbit, truly be an Archmage?
Yet her robes and the emblem pinned to her chest left no room for doubt—both bore the unmistakable marks of authenticity issued by the Magic Association.
Clearing his throat, Du Wei slightly loosened his grip on the hand of the Fear Mirage Demon, glancing at the girl with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. "Honorable Mage, are you claiming this creature as yours?"
"Yes… ah, no—no!" the girl burst into tears, her sobs echoing through the tense atmosphere. "I-it's m-my teacher's! C-could you please, p-please give it b-back to me?"
Return it?
Du Wei hesitated.
Why should he?
This creature had caused no end of trouble for them, leaving everyone humiliated and exhausted. He was tempted to slay it and claim its horn as Soskya had suggested.
But now, this girl had shown up. The rightful owner was here. Could he, in good conscience, refuse?
Still, playing the rogue wasn't an option—not with an Archmage.
Although this girl appeared weak, appearances could be deceiving.
"Honorable Mage," Du Wei began, softening his tone to coax her as one might a child, "please, don't worry. If this creature is truly yours—"
"It i-is!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with desperate hope. She wiped her tears with trembling hands, her gaze as pure and pleading as a wounded fawn's.
"Even so," Du Wei interrupted, his voice calm but firm, "as its owner, you must take responsibility for the chaos it has caused. Wouldn't you agree?"
The girl's face turned pale. She cast a timid glance at Du Wei. "P-p-please… what d-do you mean by r-responsibility?"
"This creature," Du Wei said gravely, "is no ordinary beast. As its owner, you allowed it to escape into the heart of the empire's southern lands. Are you aware of the panic such a dangerous beast can cause in populated areas?"
Du Wei's scolding left Soskya, who stood nearby, fighting to suppress a laugh. Yet, his mirth was tempered by the undeniable fact: this was no ordinary mage—it was an Archmage standing before them.
Even Soskya couldn't help but gulp as his gaze lingered on the golden emblem pinned to her chest. For someone of his modest rank—a mere novice in magic—the thought of achieving even a fraction of her standing seemed like an unattainable dream.
The girl, Vivian Yang, seemed increasingly distressed, her stammer growing worse. "M-my teacher went a-abroad. I-I was left to c-c-care for Jiu-Jiu, b-but it escaped w-when my s-sister came to visit…"
Du Wei's stern countenance softened briefly, only to harden again. "Your negligence is no excuse. Do you have any idea how much fear and harm this creature has inflicted? These brave soldiers risked their lives to capture it!"
The girl's head drooped so low it nearly touched her chest.
"An apology is not enough," Du Wei declared, his voice righteous. "Your creature caused bloodshed and terror. Do you think a simple 'sorry' suffices to mend these wounds?"
Vivian's response was barely audible, her voice trembling as she whispered, "I-I'm w-willing to c-compensate…"
And so began Du Wei's calculated extortion.
Her first offering—a Water Sapphire crystal, glittering with pure azure light—was dismissed as inadequate. She then presented a vial of Green Mana Potion, a treasure coveted by all mages, followed by a glowing yellow Fire Ward Pearl and a handful of beast cores.
Du Wei remained unimpressed.
Finally, Vivian, her hands trembling, produced a bundle of intricately crafted scrolls. Soskya's eyes bulged at the sight—these were no ordinary scrolls but mid-level magic scrolls, powerful and rare artifacts that could provoke duels between mages.
Yet still, Du Wei pressed on.
The girl, now on the verge of collapse, emptied her satchel. Her voice cracked as she pleaded, "I-I've g-given everything I h-have…"
Even Du Wei's retinue, from the knights to the mages, began to feel a pang of guilt as they watched the hapless Vivian sobbing.
But Du Wei, the master manipulator, wore a mask of cold indifference, his ambition unsated.
"Is it enough?" he muttered to himself, his gaze flickering with a calculating glint.
In that moment, every onlooker couldn't help but think: What a demon!