There were no unexpected incidents along the way. After all, the security situation in London was excellent. In addition, as an international metropolis teeming with ordinary people, taking action in such a public setting—regardless of success or failure—risked exposing the magical world, which would be unforgivable.
After arriving at the airport, we boarded a special plane bound for the north of Great Britain, and finally transferred to a private vehicle that took us to the ruins. Sitting in the car and observing the drastically different scenery around him, Aslan was deeply moved.
He had once journeyed north, but at that time, he rode on Melusine's back, heading to the front lines to fight against his so-called father. Now, times had changed. The landscape he once saw had become unrecognizable. The once-barren land was now covered by thriving cities and dense forests—utterly unlike the desolate scenes he had witnessed while traveling through ancient Britain.
At the airport, Kayneth picked up a fashion magazine from a newsstand. It seemed he was genuinely intent on absorbing and learning from modern fashion trends. Aslan could only hope that this era's fashion industry wasn't as exaggerated as Kayneth feared; otherwise, it would be a shame to see that above-average face of his ruined by ridiculous clothing.
On the drive to the mine, Kayneth flipped through the fashion magazine, nodding occasionally. The proud gleam usually present in his eyes had dimmed, replaced by something that almost resembled humility. Aslan had the vague feeling that the Clock Tower might soon witness a new image of Lord El-Melloi.
Before long, their vehicle turned off the main road and drove into a forest, stopping at the entrance of a cave. Around the cave's entrance were traces of lingering magical barriers. It was evident that this had once been a magician's workshop.
Kayneth set the fashion magazine aside, donned a pair of gloves, and stepped out of the car. His gaze swept over the cave entrance, and he frowned slightly.
"I really don't understand why those old, antique magicians always choose to hole up in places like this. Let's go see what's waiting for us."
Kayneth's words carried a double meaning. On one hand, he hoped this magical relic contained some valuable inheritance. On the other, he was preparing for the possibility of a trap.
Upon entering the cave, they were greeted by a heap of worn and damaged experimental instruments. Judging by their condition and design, the abandoned workshop was estimated to be between four and five hundred years old.
A magician in a black suit adjusted his glasses and reported, "Deep inside the ruins, we discovered a large quantity of ore and a fragment of an ancient fairy's wing sealed in amber. We suspect the magician who lived here was conducting experiments using the wing fragment and the surrounding mineral deposits."
When they reached a fork in the passage, the suited magician gestured to the two tunnels.
"Please split up. Lord El-Melloi, kindly take the left passage. The rest of you, follow me."
Kayneth glanced at him, and a faint, mocking smile tugged at his lips. It conveyed both disdain and a subtle warning to Aslan and the others. Clearly, this was a provocation. But what sort of scheme the people behind the scenes had devised remained to be seen.
The internal politics of the Clock Tower were notoriously convoluted, and factional infighting ran deep. Sometimes, even the death of a core student wouldn't bring resolution.
The current Clock Tower was rotten to the core, and Kayneth had to admit that even the smallest spark could become the catalyst for his entire faction's collapse.
If the El-Melloi faction fell, it would lose its influence within the Clock Tower, and all its magi—along with their family heritages and Mystic Codes—could be placed in jeopardy.
Whether it was Kayneth, Aslan, or the hidden saboteurs pulling strings from the shadows, all parties had prepared themselves. Now, all that remained was to see how the drama unfolded. The very fact that Kayneth and Aslan had accepted the invitation and come here meant they were prepared to step willingly into the trap.
The outcome was simple: something might happen to Aslan and the others, and Kayneth would take the fall. Even if he wasn't seriously harmed, the incident would be enough to vex him—and shake his faction's standing.
Alternatively, Kayneth and his group might survive and dismantle the trap, in which case the people behind it would pay dearly.
Of course, even if the mastermind was exposed, they could always cast aside a scapegoat to take the blame.
As for Aslan, he had willingly stepped into the trap for one simple reason: he was curious to see what kind of "interesting" trick was waiting. Akuta Hinako had been dragged along entirely at his urging.
Kayneth was a monarch and a genius, and he had his pride. Since the invitation had already been sent, how could he refuse? Had he simply ignored it, the one who set the trap would have mocked his cowardice behind closed doors.
From this angle, Aslan and Akuta Hinako were nothing more than pawns caught in a factional struggle. They just happened to be present for an assassination attempt. They just happened to survive. Aslan just happened to be a genius in the Department of Archaeology. And someone just happened to want revenge on him. All these coincidences conveniently formed a scenario someone could exploit.
Naturally, Aslan wasn't angry. On the contrary, he was intrigued. But if the show wasn't as entertaining as he'd hoped, then yes—he'd be angry. After all, if he got hurt, someone had to pay.
As for how to retaliate, he'd wait and see how the situation evolved before making his move.
As they ventured deeper into the cave, their lights fell upon a slab of amber. Inside it rested a massive, wing-like fragment resembling that of a butterfly. The moment Aslan saw it, he gently shook his head. How should he put it? His expectations had clearly been too high. As someone who frequently interacted with fairies in the Inner Sea of the Stars, he could immediately tell that the amber was a fake.
Though the butterfly wing-like fragment was physically real, it appeared to be nothing more than a magnified butterfly wing embedded in ancient amber. The magical fluctuations around it did suggest some fairy-related energy, but...
Fairy wings played an essential role in courtship rituals. Did these people truly underestimate the significance of fairy wings to actual fairies?
-End Chapter-
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