Rebirth of the Noble Mage Behind the Scenes

Indeed, those rumors that had previously circulated, with some people seemingly worried without cause, were not entirely unfounded.

After all, this is a world where Magic exists, and the Mechanical Network, a device heavily subsidized and promoted by the higher-ups, also contains backdoors.

According to the research of the Spellcasters' team, the intensity of Spiritual Power unconsciously emitted by Professionals during episodes of intense emotional fluctuation is, in fact, several times stronger than when emotions are calm.

In such a state, the power supplied by one individual is enough to match that of two or three people under normal conditions. As long as enough people maintain their connection to the network, even with fewer individuals, the total power supplied can meet the threshold.

As for how to trigger such intense emotional fluctuations?

Once the option to disconnect disappears, and the consciousness of network users can no longer detach from the Mechanical Network, their emotions are bound to produce sufficiently intense fluctuations.

This is a core program set deep within the Mechanical Network; an individual inspection of the connecting Headband reveals absolutely no traces of this feature.

Once this ultimate program is activated, even if other people in the real world remove their Headbands, they still cannot awaken the consciousness of the Network Connectors, for their consciousness will be trapped within the vacuous network.

Of course, this is an exhaustive strategy, and after such an involuntary experience, most people will probably never again choose to try something similar.

Fingering a small Dark Gold key, the Councilman looks calmly at the stage below, about to unveil, and the many spectators eagerly anticipating the start of the play.

Allowing the Mechanical Network to continue its development until it's sufficient to activate the plan under normal circumstances seems, on the surface, to be more ideal.

However, the core of the current struggle among all parties is time.

There is only one spot for the breakthrough of a Ninth Rank Prophet, and if another party gets there first, then the game is over.

Moreover, the Councilman is well aware. Although the Mechanical Network appears to be spreading quickly on the surface, the chances of truly achieving an adoption rate of over eighty percent are actually quite slim.

Once the adoption rate of the Mechanical Network exceeds the critical threshold of fifty percent, the subsequent expansion will definitely become increasingly difficult— all enemies will begin to focus their attacks.

Thus, there is no need to continue risking further development; tonight is the time he planned to activate this ultimate program.

"Dong——"

At this moment, tonight's Opera is just about to begin.

With a sound of the Magic Bell, the layered deep blue curtains unfold, and as slightly tense background music plays, a scene of a palace and banquet emerges at the center of the stage.

As the curtain rises, numerous dancers portraying Nobles are already seated around a long table, among whom one Noble is accused by many and eventually sentenced to death by poison under the King's command.

While enjoying the first act of this famous play, the Councilman's gaze sweeps the Opera House with evident interest.

Under the effect of Magic, the walls of the boxes below are as transparent as Crystal to his eyes, offering no obstruction to his sight.

In his view, the Opera performance is not merely happening on the stage; the many spectators below, watching the Opera, are also excellent actors.

During such events, he can witness a myriad of different performances.

Often, these performances 'below the stage' are even more to his taste than the legendary Opera above.

Whether it's conspirators, merchants feigning sophistication, or Nobles secretly meeting with their mistresses.

They tend to prefer conducting their less-than-reputable affairs on the long sofas of secret clubs or in private boxes at the Opera House, meeting in secret within them.

It must be said, it is an interesting phenomenon, perhaps because they worry that their secrets might be overheard at home or in other frequented places.

However, when his gaze passes over the box where Anvis is located, the Councilman's eyes pause for a moment.

For some reason, this individual dressed in a Mysterious manner gives him a Special feeling.

"Interesting… seems to be at least a High Rank."

Noticing this, the Councilman's interest grows even stronger.

He pressed the magic bell, and three seconds later, the overall person in charge of the opera house appeared at the door.

"Second floor, Box No. 131, please bring the guest inside here after the first act ends."

"As you command, Your Excellency!"

The manager nodded and then respectfully left the room.

Soon, as the first act of the opera officially ended, the stage curtain fell once again.

When his door was knocked, Anvis was already mentally prepared.

During the viewing, he had already felt some kind of invisible gaze sweeping over him.

Although he showed no outward signs of anomaly, he could sense that this line of sight came from the royal box at the top level.

Anvis did not decline the invitation; in fact, his spontaneous decision to come and watch the play tonight was similarly impromptu.

Such phenomena occurring to a high-rank prophet often indicated some kind of omen.

After urgently using a secret technique from the Ancient Secret Scripture to switch into a clone, Anvis followed the manager in front, stepping onto a magically spiraling staircase, reaching the top-level box that couldn't be accessed by normal paths.

In the elegant room, a youth with soft black hair and black eyes, whose face had a peculiar gloomy feel, sat alone by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking over at him with a cup of pale silver liquid in hand.

Anvis's first impression of him was plain.

Yes, it was a sense of ordinariness starkly different from other ninth-rank individuals—no peculiarities whatsoever, exactly like an ordinary person.

"I'm pleased to see you've come, Sir. I hope you don't mind my somewhat presumptuous invitation."

Seeing Anvis's arrival, the cloaked councilman raised his cup slightly in greeting. In response, a cup of the same drink appeared in front of Anvis.

"Thank you for your hospitality. Life always needs some harmless surprises as embellishments."

Anvis, courteous without being servile, bowed and smiled, lifting the cup of magic spring water that emanated a rich magic power aroma, and sat down on the sofa opposite the councilman.

"I just don't know, in this unexpected meeting, how I should address you."

"You can call me 'Far'."

Looking at Anvis, who showed no signs of tension, the councilman nodded slightly, feeling somewhat appreciative.

"The opera house is a place for role-playing. A weak minstrel can instantly transform into a mighty hero who slays evil dragons and saves the kingdom upon stepping onto the stage.

As we are in the opera house, there's no need to use identities and names from the outside world."

"Fair?"

Repeating the name, Anvis smiled and raised the stem glass in his hand gently.

"Then, Mip Sir, you may call me 'Zast'."

"Justice?"

The councilman paused, and then he laughed, also raising his glass in a toast.

"Alright, Sir Zast."

At this moment, the magic bell rang twice, the grand curtain was drawn, and the second act of the opera officially began.

(In the Federation language, 'Far' and 'Zast' sound similar to 'fair' and 'justice')