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Her ghostly eyes locked onto Nizemar and she continued, “Has the current regime in the Blackwater Province received the help of a secretive family with classical magic, or have they uncovered the ruins of a former mage tower? To be able to bypass the Astral Laws and perform the Rotten Moon Tide Mystery ritual, this could be a bargaining chip in negotiations with the empire. But tell me, do you honestly believe you can stage a rebellion against the empire with just this?”

Nizemar stood frozen in place, under the influence of the Frost spell, her mind racing with thoughts of how to guide Floral into activating the Sealed Magic rune.

It was the only chance she had of escaping the clutches of a Divine Realm mage.

When Floral didn’t receive a reply from the other party, she remained composed. With a steady voice, she pressed on, “It’s alright if you don’t feel like answering. We all have to face the consequences of our foolish actions. I respect my neighbor’s right to be foolish… but don’t you think you should explain your purpose for being in Holy Tree City?”

She twirled the Sealed Magic rune in her hand, appearing to spin a coin.

Nizemar struggled to keep her eyes off the powerful artifact. With a sly grin, she teased, “Do you want to take a guess?”

Her provocative words caught Floral’s attention, stopping her in her tracks. The Floral leaned forward, her grip tight on the Sealed Magic rune.

“There are two possibilities, but one will make you look foolish and the other will make you seem cruel. Either you’re here representing the fake government of the Blackwater Province, seeking a new trade agreement with Ravenwood to ensure your citizens survive the Year of Starvation’s winter… ”

The Blackwater Province was heavily affected by Undead magic, causing 20% of their food shortage every year to be imported from other regions. Ravenwood was their largest trading partner. But after the Rotten Moon Undead Tide, the empire imposed a comprehensive trade embargo on the Blackwater Province. And in Holy Tree City, any form of trade with the Blackwater Province was banned, from the officials to the civilians, on orders from Platinum Palace.

Nizemar blinked and said, “What about the cruel guess?”

The other party’s perspective was clear: relying on negotiations to restore the previous trade agreement was a foolish mistake. They were unable to bring any additional bargaining power to the table.

“Listen up,” the other party warned, “you’ve got it all wrong. Before you made the decision to resist the empire’s rule, did you stop to consider the devastating effects of the Calendar of Disaster? Abandoning your citizens to starvation during the Year of Starvation shows a lack of concern for their well-being. And what’s more, I’ve heard rumors that you were in cahoots with Ava State’s regime. Don’t tell me you’re so foolish that you want the entire Emerald Province to jump on board a ship destined for resistance against the empire?”

Nizemar listened as the other party laughed for the first time, a sound filled with anger and ridicule directed at their inflated belief in their own abilities.

Her provocation had worked, igniting the other party’s emotions.

Nizemar slowly heaved a sigh of relief.

People who could master spells to the Divine Realm were masters of their emotions, for a single emotional slip in the ether could cause catastrophic consequences.

Modern magic was not like the classical methods of relying on myths. It was a precise science, where emotions had no place.

In the heat of battle, many mages were defeated by their opponent’s ability to penetrate their mental defenses, causing fatal deviations in their spells. Controlling one’s emotions was the key to success in magic.

The room was filled with a bone-chilling aura as the other party laughed. The once steaming fruit tea was now frozen and snowflake ice crystals had formed in the teacup.

Nizemar maintained her calm smile in spite of the oppressive aura. “Yes, I’m here for the reason you call ‘foolish.’”

Floral stood abruptly, causing the ice crystal chair to dissipate into pure mana. She stood in front of Nizemar, raising her chin with pale, ice-cold fingers.

Her face was close enough for Nizemar to see the other party’s face under the black veil.

Her ice-blue eyes glimmered, and her overly fair skin for a Forest Elf and dark-green lips made her look stiff and cold.

“Resist the empire’s rule? What basis do you have, what backing, what heritage? How can you negotiate cooperation with me when you can’t even keep your citizens alive?” she whispered. Nizemar could sense the other party’s unease, even though her tone was still void of emotion.

It’s time…

Nizemar fixated her gaze on the Sealed Magic rune in the hand of the other party.

“You’re relying on that?” she asked, skeptical. “Ancient magic legacies and surviving factions from the empire’s pursuit? Those relics from the past? Be real, how can you be so trusting?”

The other party sneered at Nizemar’s gaze, but for some reason, Nizemar could sense a hint of despair in her words.

Then, as Nizemar had expected, the other party raised the Sealed Magic rune in front of her and challenged mockingly, “Take a good look at just how weak and insignificant your reliance is.”

With that, she crunched the silver piece in her hand, causing sparks of lightning to dance around them. As the stored mana turned into snaking lightning, the space around them began to blur.

But suddenly, the entire room started to shake, like a mirror swaying back and forth. All existence in the room began to distort with the trembling, and Floral’s reinforced space struggled to resist the spatial rift torn open by teleportation. Each time a spatial rift appeared, more magic power rippled to calm it.

“Behold, what you rely on,” Floral sneered. But before she could finish her sentence, she realized something was off. The magic power wasn’t dissipating, but instead forming new spatial rifts according to a predetermined spell—as if it had a life of its own.

But how is this possible…

Shocked, Floral immediately tried to suppress all the spatial rifts at once, using all her power.

The outcome was grim. The magic cast by her opponent was so powerful that it created spatial rifts that threatened to teleport Floral away before she could stabilize the spatial structure.

How can this be? This was only a Lv. 6 Teleportation spell and yet she was powerless against it.

Despite her loss of the ability to sweat, the illusion of sweat covered Floral’s forehead as the rifts multiplied.

Her mana was rapidly being depleted, unable to keep up with the increasing speed of the rifts.

The thought of being teleported to an unknown location beside the Sealed Magic rune’s creator filled her mind.

I can’t keep this up…

For the first time in over a decade, the fear crept into her chest and she couldn’t care less about her dignity.

She was only at the Legendary level in terms of lightning spells. It was obvious that the other party was a magic chanter who had reached the Divine Realm. She had been overconfident, competing with a master in their area of expertise.

Zero Entropy…

Floral shook the magical medium in her hand, her voice ringing out as she chanted the forbidden Divine Realm spell, the greatest of frost spells. One that could even freeze time itself.

In an instant, the reception room around her turned to amber. Everything stopped, even the spatial rift that had been wrapping around her.

And then, with lightning speed, she moved away from the frozen space. The spell she had just cast would teleport only air.

But she never expected to have to use this powerful spell just to avoid a simple Teleportation spell.

Who is the backer of this Eighth Order traitor?

Floral wondered as she turned her gaze to the woman.

Eh?

But what she saw next made her pause. Was she seeing things? The Holy Spirit emblem on the woman’s chest appeared to flicker.

But that was impossible—she was under the effects of Zero Entropy, and time was still frozen.

And then, before she could even process what was happening, a pitch-black spatial door opened above the emblem and a large hand, wrapped in ancient bandages, reached out and grabbed her, pulling her through the door and into an empty space.

...

She didn’t even have the chance to scream before she passed through the colorful kaleidoscope and was thrown into an empty place.

“I was wondering what happened to you. I searched the entire palace but didn’t see you. So you’ve already met an associate of mine,” a hoarse voice echoed from not far away.

“Sorry, the way I pulled you over was a little rough. To show my sincerity, have a seat on that throne first.”

And that’s when Floral realized she was in the hall of the White Bone Castle.

In front of her was a silver-eyed, gray-haired man, looking down at her.