The man inside hadn't emerged for a full day and night—perfect behavior for a sorcerer. No ordinary person could have pulled it off. Throne glanced at the dark clouds swallowing the moon, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword.
Two days of study was nothing for Throne, hardened by Sellen's relentless teaching. He ate bread when hungry, slept briefly when tired, and spent every other moment deep in learning. He moved swiftly through the shelves, reaching the intermediate section in no time.
His speed wasn't just due to Sellen's foundation. He carried a demigod with him. Ranni, trained by the Snow Witch, was arguably the most powerful sorcerer in The Lands Between. Complex Night Sorcery configurations were child's play to her.
It was like a university student learning a new discipline under the guidance of an academician—progress came fast. "Have you mastered the three variations of Ambush Shard? Don't forget the extended use of the invisible blade. I won't teach it twice," her cold voice echoed.
Throne closed his eyes, channeling his magic to simulate the spells. Night Sorcery and Glintstone Sorcery shared roots, but the former emphasized speed and stealth. Every Night Sorcerer was a warrior and assassin, casting spells while moving or leaping. "I've got it. A few practices, and I'll sync with the magic frequency," he said, opening his eyes with a smile. "Your Highness, without you, I'd still be starting out."
"Who helped you? I'm merely interested in Night Sorcery," Ranni replied dismissively. Throne didn't argue. He closed the book and slid it back onto the shelf. "Your Highness, how's my aptitude for magic?"
"Average. Sellen taught you poorly. Too much theory. Magic should be instinct." Throne sighed. Over the past day, Ranni had criticized Sellen's methods repeatedly. If they ever met, their teaching philosophies alone would spark a fight. "Let's stop here," he said.
"You're not reading the rest?" "High-end Night Sorcery won't be in this section. As for the advanced ones, I lack the intelligence to fully grasp them. I've memorized them for now."
Throne shook his head. Two days indoors—he had no idea how Sellia fared, but the heat had likely died down. Outside, the moon vanished behind dark clouds again. Rain tapped softly against the windows. The library was silent, the librarian slumped asleep at his desk.
Whoosh—
A sudden, inexplicable wind swept through, extinguishing the oil lamps. Throne picked up his Glintstone staff. "Your Highness, step aside for a moment."
"Be careful. If it's too much, call me," Ranni warned, her tone grave.
Throne nodded, storing the doll in the spirit-calling ring. A burst of starlight flared above him, illuminating the library. Everything seemed unchanged—save for the faint rustle of pages turning in the breeze.
The librarian was still slumped on the desk, as if fast asleep. Throne approached and touched his back. His fingers came away slick. Blood. Warm blood.
Have they arrived? Throne sensed the librarian's lifeless stillness. The Glintstone crown obscured his vision, but the threat was unmistakable—silent, swift, aimed straight for his back. He rolled forward without hesitation. A wet spray erupted beside him. Blood bloomed on the corpse's chest as it crumpled to the ground.
His hand brushed the wound. A hilt-shaped object protruded from it. Invisible Blade? He snapped to attention. This magic rendered weapons unseen. Every projectile hurled at him now was an invisible throwing knife. Even a seasoned magic professor would falter. But Throne was no stranger to assassination.
He couldn't see the attacks, but the air's whistle betrayed their paths. One from the left, three ahead, two to the right—a coordinated assault. He kicked a long table over. It cracked under the impact, splintering into fragments.
He pressed his palm to the floor. Vibrations told him the enemy wasn't deterred—they were flanking him from both sides. His pupils narrowed. Professional killers. Peeking out would mean a blade through the skull. Staying put was suicide.
The Grand Sage's faction remained ambiguous, and Throne had no intention of escalating. Instead, he raised his staff toward the glowing orb above. Starlight! A rookie's instinct might be to light a torch in danger, but here, in this confined space, the light flared blindingly bright.
The floor's vibrations ceased—no, the attackers retreated instinctively. Throne seized the moment. He leaped forward. One figure blurred in the intense light—a pitch-black robe, a short sword, a staff, a crimson mask.
Their eyes were shut, temporarily blinded. Still, they heard his approach and raised their staff. Swish, swish, swish—black glintstones hurtled toward him. Smaller than Glintstone Sorcery, but faster. Throne countered. Crystal Burst!
Bang, bang, bang—
Crystals collided with glintstones midair, scattering pages like leaves. Throne rolled forward, dodging a thrusting short sword. His staff gleamed with a blade of light. Carian Slicer. The magic blade arced through the air. Arms and a head tumbled free, blood splattering the bookshelves.
The starlight shattered under a glintstone's impact, plunging the library into dimness. The Night Sorcerer's head hit the ground as Throne vaulted back, crouching behind a bookshelf. A storm of attacks followed. Thud, thud, thud—like shotgun pellets tearing through wood and paper.
The headless corpse dissolved into a crimson mist. The remaining Night Sorcerers turned their focus, astonishment and fury burning in their eyes. The intelligence was wrong—how was the target a cowardly bookworm? What kind of bookworm countered so smoothly, even dared a magic duel? "Impressive reflexes," one muttered.
Throne crouched in the corner, licking his lips. Such skill only intrigued him more. Reality wasn't a card game. Even with equal magic, one Night Sorcerer could outmatch five academy scholars.
Suppressive fire, intimate knowledge of the terrain, seamless teamwork—it made retaliation nearly impossible. And yet—
"Is that bastard Edred letting this happen on purpose?" Losing their first companion had pushed them past the point of restraint.
In a place like this, the Night Sorcerers couldn't possibly miss the commotion unless they were deaf. The answer was clear. Either the Grand Sage had been lured away, leaving a brief power vacuum, or he didn't care about the lecturer's survival—he just wanted enough chaos to justify a purge.
Stupid or ruthless. Throne leaned toward ruthless.
Bang! The door exploded into fragments. A knight with a shield rolled in, his red plume half-shattered. He blocked the firestorm outside with his shield, then froze when he saw enemies inside. A split second later, he dove to the side.
Thump, thump, thump. Black glintstones tore through the air like machine-gun fire, riddling the floor. Even a Redmane Knight had been dragged into this mess. Throne seized the moment to bolt for the door, staff raised high. Black and cyan glintstones flew wildly, scattering chaos.
He weaved through rows of bookshelves, casting spells on the move. The fight shifted from swords to an all-out gunfight. Everyone was a glass cannon armed with machine guns, shredding the room. Precious books disintegrated under the barrage. Outside the door, more enemies waited. Escape was a pipe dream.
No windows on the inner side. Throne was trapped. But fleeing wasn't on his mind. He crouched beside the Redmane Knight. "Knight Ayla, can you move?"
"It's nothing." The knight grabbed his battered shield and glanced at Throne. "Lecturer Venn, I underestimated you."
A guy who could dodge bullets. Impressive. "If you don't hide your true self, survival's a gamble. Agreed?"
The knight paused, then nodded grimly. Ambushed in the heart of Sellia—it left him shaken. He'd been stationed here for years. This peaceful magical town had depths he hadn't fathomed.
Friend or foe? Right now, it was hard to tell.
Thump, thump, thump. The pillar they hid behind splintered under the assault. Stone chips flew. No time for chatter. Their eyes met. Break out. Leave Sellia.
"Push them back first."
"Agreed." No wasted words.
The knight leaped from cover, shield glowing with magic. He was forced back immediately, retreating step by step. Facing these humanoid machine guns, even a Redmane Knight struggled. Flames gathered on his blade. He swung it in a wide arc, the fire forming a wall that forced the sorcerers to scramble back.
But it wasn't over. Throne felt magic gathering ahead. Black light flickered. Ambush Shard? This Night Sorcery could bypass cover, striking from behind. Impossible to defend against. Stepping out meant being riddled with holes—a pincer attack from both sides.
Ayla hesitated, unsure which threat to block. Cyan ripples flowed. Dozens of glintstones bombarded the air, refracting wildly.
"What kind of magic is this?" The knight stared, dumbfounded.
"Academy secret technique. Actually, I'm Battlemage Yug." Throne lied without hesitation. The Redmane wouldn't know the difference.
Speaking of which, Yug was quite miserable—first he died once, and now even his name had been stolen. Combined with the combat power from just now, this explanation was reasonable. Ayla immediately gave a thumbs up: "You are worthy of being a Battlemage!" As for why he would assume a fake identity—could an academy elite be a fool? Clearly, he had already anticipated that problems would arise.
Not to mention the knight's overthinking, Throne raised his staff, and cyan magic formed a great hammer. This thick wall couldn't stop him at all. Gavel of Haima! Boom—
The entire wall was knocked to pieces, and the night wind rushed in. Throne didn't think too much and jumped out first. This was the third floor, a full ten meters from the ground.
The Redmane Knight widened his eyes, thinking to himself that he was worthy of being a Battlemage, being so decisive. He didn't hesitate either and hurriedly followed. But the Night Sorcerers had already rushed through the gradually extinguishing wall of fire and rushed to the breach to look down. Before they could attack, a Cannon of Haima had already exploded at the breach. Rumble!
Human limbs flew in all directions, and the remaining people hurriedly fled. The radiance of this fire and magic illuminated Sellia, and some Night Sorcerers who didn't know the situation were awakened. Clang, clang, clang. The alarm bell rang. Along with the merchants and warriors in the town, they all looked toward this side.
Under the moon, there was chaos, and who knew how many people were awakened from their dreams. But they didn't know who the enemy was, nor did they know who the friendly forces were; they couldn't do anything. "Don't go through the town!" Throne rolled on the ground to dissipate the force and leaped up, taking the opportunity to call out to the Redmane Knight.
The latter was just about to go to the barracks to get reinforcements, but upon hearing this, he hurriedly stopped his steps, looked up, and saw Night Sorcerers everywhere. People were running on the roofs, and people were pouring onto the stairs. These weren't necessarily all enemies; he didn't dare to strike first, but if he waited for others to strike first, wouldn't he be doomed?
The situation was too bizarre; there was no one in Sellia who could be trusted. Moreover, to break out of the core area, one still had to enter the more complex main urban area of the small town. "If we don't look for reinforcements, what should we do?" Throne hid behind a stone pillar and whispered: "Listen for yourself."
Someone was shouting in the night; clearly, a wise man had taken over command, and the content was clearly:
"Ayla has rebelled! He and the Glintstone Sorcerer burned the library together, catch them!" "They dare to frame me!" The Redmane Knight was almost so angry that he vomited blood and growled: "Grand Sage Edred cannot possibly believe it."
"If he believed it, tonight's assassination couldn't have happened." Throne said coldly. He didn't think this matter was done by the Grand Sage; after all, they were shouting loudly, but no one rushed up. It was more of an accident—for example, neither side expected a bookworm to be able to come out alive, and even abduct a knight along the way. But Ayla didn't understand so much.
He was even somewhat shaken, opening his mouth and arguing incessantly: "Impossible, the Grand Sage is absolutely loyal to the General." "It is precisely because of loyalty that he has no scruples. Even if killed by Radahn, he would still clear away a hidden danger for him." Throne shook his head, seemingly having guessed something.