He stared at it, confusion mounting… until the memories came.
They crept into his mind like a slow tide—techniques, phrases, the postures and pride of a goblin mage student. His back straightened. His eyes sharpened. And slowly, his expression changed. Fear dissolved into something colder. Wiser. Controlled.
Somewhere deep within him, Phanthom stirred.
It had taken time. Time to observe, time to understand, time to wait for the perfect moment. Phanthom had used his power subtly—his ability to steal appearances and shape perception, working through the connection he shared with Rattan. And now, he had gifted Rattan the ultimate disguise: the identity of a goblin mage student.
No one questioned the student who now walked among the others. Not even the true mages. After all, who would suspect one of their own?
Rattan—no, the student—glanced once more at the pit of despair behind him. He had escaped it. For now.
