Konrad was back in the Tower of Illusions, but felt like he was walking on clouds.
He couldn't shake the memory of Lily's skin hot against his—not like he wanted to—even thumbing the new codex. The girl was intoxicating. Addictive even.
How could he live without that scent of cinnamon and wildfire until now?
"Stop grinning like an idiot," Zoltan demanded, frowning. "Why's an executioner here?"
The vinegar stench clinging to him seemed sharper, more acrid.
The smell of fear.
Well, the illusionist was prone to panicking. Worrying about getting caught must've been second nature to him after so many scams.
Konrad tried to school his features into something serious and failed.
"I told you. Hostage. She was my ticket out of the catacombs," he explained. "I thought a prisoner exchange for Eyna might work, too, but the Inquisitor didn't want her back."
"Wait. They have the purple-eyed girl?"
"No. Weren't you listening?" He couldn't stop smirking. "I freed her, battling my evil twin."
It was so absurd, saying it out loud—but that was what happened.
Zoltan's eyes widened, then narrowed.
"Evil twin," he repeated, sceptical. "One of you is more than enough."
"Agreed," Konrad nodded, his attention drifting back to the codex. He traced a finger over a complex rune circle for what he had attempted earlier.
To pry open parallel worlds and siphon their mana—a gateway to unlimited power.
But, as he had also experienced, it needed a lot of preparation, solid focus, and the backlash—
"You—don't? That's all you have to say?" Zoltan's eyes darted toward the door as if expecting a battalion of Church soldiers. "If I had a sibling out of the blue, I'd have questions. A lot of them."
Well, sure, he did, too, but—
When Lu reincarnated him, Konrad felt nothing for the dying woman he saw.
Erwin Halstadt, too, was a mere piece of a puzzle in his quest for power.
A long-lost brother who tried to kill him when they first met? An obstacle. That was it.
He had no siblings in his past life—what was he supposed to do in this situation?
Figuring it out ranked below his thoughts about the girls upending his new life.
Calling them his harem felt like a joke when their main talent was getting in each other's way.
But last night—no coma, no interruptions.
He graduated to adulthood with the most beautiful, crazy girl in any world he had been in. Now that was real. Tangible, unlike this vague concept of a second-hand family.
His mind snagged on the memory, the grin returning full force.
"You're creeping me out," Zoltan scoffed. "If the Church finds out about the Green Mage—"
"Well, don't let them," Konrad interrupted. "The tower's illusion is permanent, isn't it?"
"It is, but it's only that—an illusion." His 'master' pinched his nose. "It won't hold up when they walk right in, or through a wall. They'll execute me, and burn this village to the ground."
"Not Stella, no," he noted. "She's terrified of fire. The Inquisitor burned her entire family."
"What?" Zoltan yelped. "Then why'd she serve that monster?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." He shrugged. "Father Alastair told me they served the Halstadts until the last war. Which I always thought was a nomadic invasion?"
Every time he asked this question, something interrupted him.
When Vargas said he'd fought on Erwin's side, he thought of Halaima, a fortified city against the nomads. He wished he'd spent more time learning history in childhood.
"Well, your Church friends would call it a heretic uprising," Zoltan claimed.
That explained a few things—creating even more questions with no time to ask them.
For now, he shook his head. Focus.
"I need your workshop," Konrad stated, closing the codex with a definitive thud. "The plan was to take the Black River survivors and the priest back to the Tribal Council."
"The sooner they leave, the better." Zoltan nodded, too.
"But Stella Nord is a complication." What an understatement.
"Yeah, no kidding," the illusionist said. "I don't want her anywhere near the tower."
She was dangerous and volatile, even with the silver bracelet locked on her wrist. But now he needed the adamantite from it, since he had made the mistake of giving it all to Eyna.
He found the solution in one of these restored pages. He'd make it work.
But what'd happen after that?
"Well, I need her here for a mana transfer," Konrad explained. "That bracelet on her is a transmutation artifact. It turns mana and silver into adamantite."
Zoltan's mouth gaped, and he began to stutter.
"Y-you mean THAT artifact? The famous blunder killing a generation of sorcerers? The Church has banned it ages ago."
"Yeah, that sounds like the one." He nodded. "And I overcharged three of them so far."
The illusionist's eyes bulged.
"You did not—making adamantite? You'd need an infinite amount of mana. How much?"
"About five pounds per bracelet. More or less." Konrad shrugged like it was nothing. "It took me a while to boost my mana recharge rate, but it was easy once I figured that out."
That was an exaggeration—he didn't mention the sleepless nights and the nosebleed.
But he got Zoltan's attention.
"So what's the problem if it was so easy for you?"
It sounded like he didn't believe him—and he had no proof, either. But he had the right rune.
"It was easy when it was on my wrist, but now it's on Stella, and so far, all my attempts to charge it have failed. This symbol might solve that issue, but—"
"That's the only thing that keeps her manageable?" the illusionist asked, paling.
"I don't know." Konrad clarified. "I doubt she can cast spells with or without it, but she's a tall, angry woman with a grudge. I can't drag her to the Blood Moon tribe, or the council, so—"
"No," was Zoltan's firm and immediate response.
"Come on, act like you're the Green Mage's apprentice," he demanded. "She's terrified of fire—"
"So am I," his 'master' protested. "Illusions are all I'm good for. And I'm not your babysitter."
"Five pounds of adamantite," Konrad reminded him. "I need some for a new sword and to convince Welf's father. You can have the rest—and you still owe me from that copying gig."
Zoltan's face transformed as the scamster's greed took over.
"I'm going to regret this." He scrunched his nose, scratching his temple. "That's more gold than what I got for that codex, but if she gets the word out—"
"You'll keep her under wraps." Konrad grinned. "She's in the Tanidia inn, let's go."
"I hate you, kid," Zoltan grumbled under his breath, but followed him regardless.
He already rehearsed the rune sequence in his head—it was so simple, it couldn't have failed.
Not after he had pried open cracks between dimensions without a magic circle.
He pushed open the door to the inn's back room, which they were using as a cell, preparing for the familiar glare. Once he'd touch that silver bracelet, everything would—
"Where was she again?" His 'master' leaned against the doorframe, waving at the empty room.
Konrad's mouth hung open.
No traces of Stella or the artifact—all his plans disappearing with them.