The chamber sat in silence for nearly a full minute, the heavy mist curling through the darkness like a living thing. No one spoke, lost in their own thoughts, calculating possibilities and threats.
Finally, Mr. King cleared his throat and broke the silence. "This being aside… is there any more news from the sea, Mr. Light?"
Arthur, as Mr. Light, shook his head. "We've only just begun our expedition to locate that beast. Any significant developments will take time."
Mr. King nodded, then turned his gaze. "And what of the Shadow Land?" This time, his eyes locked onto Ms. Shadow.
She responded with calm precision. "Our scouts observed two groups of vampires attempting to enter the Shadow Land. We managed to eliminate one of these groups—but another succeeded in slipping past our perimeter and entered the dark regions."
"Whatever they're searching for, they haven't found it in our part of the world," said Mr. Crow, his voice dry but tinged with unease.
"There's one more thing," Ms. Shadow added, her tone sharper now.
Every head turned to her.
"We also saw a group of orcs in the Shadow Land."
A sudden jolt of energy sparked through the room.
"Orcs?" Mr. King's voice was a half-shout as he nearly rose from his seat. "That's not possible…"
"The last time a group of orcs was seen like this was four hundred years ago," said Mr. Immortal, his brows furrowed deeply.
"If they're in the Shadow Land…" Ms. Eye began, her voice slow and calculating, "Does that mean they're living there? Or is there something beyond it—some place we don't know about?"
"According to ancient history," Mr. Crow chimed in, "the four great kingdoms of the old races were located inside the Shadow Land before its fall. I doubt there's much left beyond that cursed place."
"You're saying they survived all this time in that forsaken hell?" Mr. Immortal asked, his voice laced with intrigued disbelief.
Leo, quietly watching, finally added, "Orcs have bodies twice the size of humans or elves. They reproduce rapidly—faster than any of the other races. If any species could adapt and endure in a place like that… it would be them."
A heavy silence fell once again, thicker than before. Possibilities hung in the air like smoke—wild, ancient, dangerous. The meeting lingered in silence, broken only when Mr. Crow finally presented his usual collection of rare items. The atmosphere gradually softened, and the conclave slowly drew to a close.
When Leo opened his eyes in the real world, a smile curled across his face. He could finally see them. The orcs. Another piece of the ancient puzzle had just moved.
…
Leo didn't get much sleep before Laid's sharp voice and the bustle of the crew pulled him from his rest. He climbed out of bed, straightened his clothes and stepped onto the deck.
The wind was sharp, the sky cloudy. The sea had grown restless—choppy waves slapped against the hull, rocking the ship. The crew scrambled to keep everything under control. Some were tightening ropes, others rushed from one side of the deck to the other, working in rhythm to keep the ship steady.
Near the front of the ship, standing tall by the bowsprit, was Arthur. His coat fluttered in the wind, and his expression was calm but sharp.
Leo made his way over. "What's the plan?" he asked once he was close.
Arthur didn't turn right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the horizon. "We'll revisit a few of the islands we explored before," he said. "We're looking for any clue—anything—that can point us toward the beast's location."
Leo raised an eyebrow. "Is it really as massive as everyone says?"
Arthur finally looked at him, a grim edge to his smile. "Unfortunately, yes. It's massive—and worse, it can disappear beneath the waves. Fighting something that can vanish into the depths at any moment? That's the real problem."
There was a brief silence before Arthur asked, "From what I'm seeing, you're close to A-rank. Have you decided on a sub-path yet?"
Leo had read about sub-paths—a necessary part of advancement for high rankers. They focused one's abilities, narrowing potential spell growth and reducing the risk of corruption. But there were so many, and Leo hadn't chosen yet.
He shook his head. "Not yet."
"You're an illusionist and an enchanter, right? I'll give you a book that might help."
Leo gave a small nod. "Thanks."
He turned his gaze to the sea. The waves glistened beneath the gray sky. "How long until we reach the first island?"
Arthur chuckled. "This is where you learn patience. The closest island is a week away."
"A week…" Leo muttered. "The sea really is massive."
After that, Leo joined the rest of the crew, helping where he could—pulling ropes, tightening sails, assisting with the storm management. When the sun dipped beneath the waves and the wind softened, Laid handed him the book Arthur had mentioned. The cover read The Illusionist's Future in faded gold lettering.
That night, Leo returned to his room, a small space with just enough room for a bed and shelf. He said his prayer, activating the link to his domain—an invisible, watchful eye that would alert him if anyone entered. Then, with a single thought, he shifted his consciousness and opened his eyes within the vast white expanse of his domain.
As always, entering the domain slowed time dramatically. But now that he was watching himself through the Mirror of Truth, time had begun syncing with the real world again. He needed a solution—fast—if he wanted to fully enjoy the benefits of time dilation here.
First, he checked on the three individuals he had marked earlier using the Mirror. There was nothing unusual about them—for now.
Then before diving into the book, he decided to test his domain further. He needed a way to maintain a constant connection to his real body without relying on watching himself. That would allow time here to remain slow without disrupting awareness in the outside world.
He sat on his throne, lost in thought. 'One possibility is creating some kind of autonomous watcher—a construct that could monitor my real body and alert me. But building that sounds complicated, and I'd have to enchant it with a reactive trigger spell…'
He shook his head. That would take more time and research than he currently had.
'Wait… I'm an illusionist, an enchanter… and the Creator.' The last word echoed in his thoughts.
Suddenly, inspiration struck. 'What if I create a version of myself here? A clone that can act independently and follow orders? It could act as a watchful eye, and maybe that would break the real-world sync.'
He immediately tried crafting a clone, shaping it through the same process he used to form phantoms—only this time, with the domain's power behind it. A figure emerged, but still… it was just a phantom. It didn't think or act on its own.
'Still hollow,' he thought.
The next idea was riskier: replicating the process Alexia had used in the spell circle within her tower. But to do that, he'd need to study those magic circles in detail. For now, it would have to wait.
With that settled, he moved on to his next task, learning how much influence he could exert on the world. There were two kinds of connections now. The first was through those who prayed to him and the second was through those he was merely watching.
What he needed to understand now was simple. How much power could he exert through each connection—and what were the limits? That answer could change everything.
Leo began by testing the connection he had established through his prayer. The link allowed him to channel his mana into the physical world—into himself, and possibly to others. He already knew that basic, pure mana could flow through, but he needed to understand the extent of what was possible.
His first test was simple. Attempt to manipulate objects near his real body from within his domain.
He focused on a wooden shard resting beside his bed. Using only his mana, he tried to lift it. Nothing happened. On his second attempt, he used telekinesis—a direct spell of pure magic. To his surprise, the wood trembled, then rose gently into the air. A thrill stirred in his chest. It worked.
He levitated the piece into his real hand and left it there. To push further, he attempted to cast an illusion next. Nothing. Then an enchantment spell. Again, nothing.
"So pure magic works, but other types don't? Why?"
He didn't have the answer yet, but it was a boundary worth remembering.
Next, he explored the potential for transferring objects between realms. If he could manipulate something through his domain, could he also pull it in? Or push something out?
With focus, he used telekinesis to lift another small object. He tried to draw it into the white vastness of his domain—no reaction. Then he tried to send a tiny item from within the domain into the physical world. Again, nothing. The pathway clearly didn't allow for matter transfer—only mana.
"If I want to bring things through this link, I'll need to find a teleportation or portal spell in pure magic."
That was also for another time. Now, he needed to test if this kind of magic would work without the prayer-based connection. He exited his domain briefly and confirmed that the piece of wood he had moved earlier was still in his hand. Then after a short rest, he returned to the domain—this time without invoking his prayer.
Through the Mirror of Truth, he summoned the image of his physical body lying in bed. He attempted to send mana into himself again but nothing happened. Then he used telekinesis. To his astonishment, the wood began to move once more. A smile touched his lips—he hadn't expected it to work at all.
He let the piece fall to the floor and severed the connection. Then he opened his eyes.
The wood was there, resting on the wooden floorboards. But as he sat up to retrieve it, a sharp pain lanced through his skull. He winced. It was the kind of ache that came when his mana reserves had nearly bottomed out.
"So I can use telekinesis without the prayer... but it drains me hard."
He now understood something critical. In order to manipulate something through the Mirror, his mana had to be physically present at the target's location. That meant, when he used magic this way, a portion of his mana remained there—even after the spell was complete. It was subtle, but dangerous.
Leaving traces of his magic behind could draw attention. If the wrong person sensed his presence—or the presence of something unfamiliar—it could expose him.
Leo stared down at the wood and exhaled slowly.
"This power has potential, but it comes with risk."
He now knew exactly what he wanted to do—all he needed was time to make it happen.
…
For the next week, before they reached the first island, Leo spent his days helping the crew and getting to know them better, and his nights focused entirely on training. His control over Gravity Trap had improved significantly, and he could now apply Weight Enchantment to objects with far more precision and speed. Arthur had given him a book on Pure Magic, but so far he hadn't found any mention of teleportation spells. As for the magic circles in Alexia's tower, they were still far beyond his current understanding. The spell structure was the most complex he'd ever encountered, composed of intricate layers of enchantment and illusion circles, woven together with unfamiliar words of power.
While studying another book Arthur had lent him—this one detailing the many sub-paths of magic—Leo came across two that caught his attention.
The first was Phantom Enchanter, a path focused on embedding enchantments into conjured phantoms. It allowed for clever combinations, like arming a phantom with an explosive trap.
The second was Arcane Masquer, a fusion of illusion and enchantment that could weave fear into reality—crafting horrors so vivid they could shatter an enemy's will without a single blow.
The second path fascinated him. It promised psychological dominance and elegant control. But deep down, Leo knew that for his current combat style—fast, deceptive, and tactical—the Phantom Enchanter would serve him better.
There were other sub-paths as well. In total, each main path had around three specialized extensions, and there were even more hybrid paths created through combinations with other paths. The sheer variety was overwhelming, but for someone constantly facing danger, Leo understood the importance of knowing them all.