Wizard Bloodline

Caroni followed the green-robed witch's gaze to see the bald wizard from Molten Lake and the feather-masked wizard from Black Swamp standing together, facing the myriad screens suspended above Mirror Lake, engaged in a low conversation.

Soon, both took out some items, sketching runes in the air, seemingly sealing a contract.

Caroni knew exactly what they were doing; it was a regular pastime whenever the two met—a small "betting game" based on the performance of their subordinate wizards during exploration.

For powerful wizards on the cusp of stepping out of the mist, like them, these little wagers provided entertainment and a way to pass time in their long lives.

"Not interested in joining them?" the green-robed witch asked, biting into a brightly colored fruit.

Caroni shook his head, sipping from his bottle. "I've never been interested in such games, and I'm not as confident as they are. Our Ring hasn't been rooted in the south for long; we're still lacking in foundation."

"But just waiting here is too dull," the witch sighed, wanting Caroni to join the bet.

Caroni understood her adventurous spirit, a mix of restlessness and a penchant for challenges, though she lacked the courage to venture alone, hence she sought companionship.

"If you really want to," Caroni suggested, "we could make a small wager between us, but nothing too big, you know..."

"Great, Caroni," the witch agreed eagerly before he finished. "I've been waiting for you to say that. Molten Lake and Black Swamp are stronger than us, leaving little chance of winning against them. We're more evenly matched."

Caroni glanced at the enthusiastic witch, feeling somewhat speechless. They agreed on the stakes and sealed their bet.

With everything settled, the witch eagerly approached the screens over Mirror Lake, analyzing the silhouettes of Ring wizards, calculating her odds in the wager.

Watching her, Caroni's eyes glinted as he calmly activated a communication stone.

"Did she agree?" asked a voice from the stone.

"Yes. I included the Star Spirit Orchid seeds and reproductive flower juice you wanted in the stakes... The Thorn Palace wizards value these as life; they wouldn't part with them without such means."

"Good work, Caroni. I've instructed Orion to look for what you need during exploration. If it's not in Mirror Court, I'll compensate you otherwise. Are you sure your arrangements will secure the win?"

"Valina from the Second Ring and Clemens from the Seventh are both top-tier seeds. They might struggle against Molten Lake and Black Swamp talents, but should outperform Thorn Palace's contingent in the second area."

Caroni put down the communication stone, his gaze fixing on two screens, then retrieved two fresh stones, inputting information into each.

Ronan surveyed the room before him.

At its center was a black, four-poster bed with semi-transparent gray drapes, a silver candlestick on the bedside table.

One wall was draped with heavy velvet curtains, the other adorned with a faded tapestry bearing unreadable patterns.

Beside the bed stood a white desk, sparsely littered with feather pens and perhaps some open notebooks or books.

Apart from a few gray wardrobes, two empty shelves, and a silver dressing mirror embedded in a partition wall, the room was bare.

It seemed a mere resting chamber.

Contrary to Ronan's expectations of bizarre, ancient wonders and lurking dangers, this was a simple bedroom.

His spatial ring emitted a faint energy pulse.

Ronan retrieved a communication stone, opening it to hear Clemens's voice.

"Ronan, are you okay?"

"All good, it's quiet here," Ronan replied.

"And you, Derby? Can you hear us?"

"I'm here... I'm fine as well," responded a steady, slightly unfamiliar voice.

It was the other Seventh Ring wizard, ranked just after Clemens. Before entering, the three had exchanged communication marks.

"Let's explore separately, but keep in touch if needed. It'd be great if we could meet up," Clemens concluded, ending the transmission.

Ronan paid little mind; none knew where they had been transported within the realm, so meeting was a matter of luck.

Just as he was about to store the stone, Clemens sent another, more serious message.

"Damien, be cautious of other forces' wizards within the realm. Typically, looting fellow wizards is tolerated here, seen as a higher form of gain—assuming you're strong enough. I've heard this exploration might see intense internal conflict... Stay alert."

Ronan's eyes flickered briefly before putting away the stone, focusing on the room.

He began with the shelves and wardrobes. The shelves bore a thin layer of dust, and the wardrobes were empty.

Ronan tapped the wardrobe doors lightly, then moved to the desk, examining scattered papers and notebooks.

All blank, devoid of any writing.

Likely erased by magic.

The room's owner seemed to have left calmly, packing everything with no intention of leaving anything behind.

Ronan expanded his mental power, using his keen perception to thoroughly search the room.

All he found was a small cloth pouch in a hidden compartment by the bedpost, containing herbal powder and a flat metal box.

Time had turned the herbs to dust.

The metal box held an unknown black ointment, still faintly pungent and spicy.

Likely forgotten by the room's owner, Ronan stored both items for later evaluation.

With the room explored, Ronan sought an exit, finding none.

His attention turned to the silver dressing mirror, realizing where he was.

"Almost forgot... This is Mirror Court," Ronan mused, finding a row of runes along the mirror's edge.

He noted them, gradually infusing them with mental power.

The first five or six runes activated without effect, but the last made the mirror ripple like water.

Ronan stepped through, emerging in a narrow corridor.

The walls bore marks of removed items, and Ronan kept his mental power expanded, fingers brushing the walls as he walked.

After several steps, he discovered a shallow groove.

Exploring it, he opened a "portal" to another room.

Proceeding with caution, he entered a similar room.

Moments later, Ronan resumed exploring.

Following his routine, he searched five or six rooms, finding nothing.

Ronan felt neither disappointed nor frustrated. No risk meant no reward.

That was often how things balanced.

After the seventh room, he used the inevitable mirror portal to leave.

Unexpectedly, this time he emerged not into a sterile corridor, but a small garden with a fountain.

A low fence enclosed a charming ivory cottage, with a gravel path lined by greenery leading into the unknown, the entrance now out of sight.

Ronan was delighted by the change.

Standing outside the fence, he surveyed the garden, finding it reminiscent of the mysterious garden realm he'd visited.

The garden featured wicker furniture, two unknown fruit trees, and a swing.

Unlike before, the furniture was bare, and everything seemed real, untended, overgrown with weeds, having overtaken the original plants.

Ronan stepped into the garden, ready for any attack like those from transparent twisted figures.

He circled the garden without incident, finding no hidden spatial traps.

"Not every Mirror Court wizard shares the mysterious garden master's taste for mischief," Ronan thought, turning to the cottage.

He strolled around the fountain to the ivory door, politely knocking twice.

No answer.

Inside, the scene was ordinary.

A living room, dining area, and kitchen, with a few plates by the window's oven.

Ronan approached, seeing the food had long decayed, silver utensils beside them.

His eyes brightened.

Turning, he surveyed the house.

He quickly envisioned the scene—a host entertaining guests, personally baking delicacies.

But before enjoying them, something happened, causing everyone to leave abruptly.

The owner seemed less composed than those in previous rooms, indicating haste.

Haste suggested oversight, offering Ronan potential gains.

He quickly scoured the ground floor.

It seemed purely residential, with no magical tools or materials.

His main target was the second floor.

Ascending the creaky wooden stairs, he reached the top, where the air was murky, faintly fetid.

Ronan quickened his pace, stepping into a chaotic laboratory, littered with crystal and glassware, shards on the floor.

Ahead, runes flickered on a broken slab.

He approached, seeing the dim runes forming twisted, fragmented words.

"Failure... Forbidden experiment terminated... Ca... Nos."

Ronan carefully noted the slab's writing, unable to piece together any valuable information.

The floor was strewn with slab fragments. This was likely a basic recording tool, devoid of value worth removing, thus destroyed.

The incomplete destruction allowed its contents to re-emerge through a chaotic rune array.

Ronan collected the remaining slab fragments, then began sweeping the lab.

To his surprise, he found valuable materials.

—A box of refined energy stones.

Or energy beads.

About twenty, varying in size and element, vibrant as a box of marbles.

They were single-element energy refined into crystalline beads using special techniques.

Refining a high-purity energy stone required many high-grade magic stones, with no guarantee of success.

It was an extravagant alchemical method, typically used in advanced experiments.

This suggested the cottage's owner had significant power, likely beyond a second-level wizard, as such experiments wouldn't require energy beads.

The most valuable of these were three spatial energy beads.

Spatial energy beads could construct artificial realm spaces, like Bennigo's micro-realm.

To date, no one in the south could refine spatial energy into beads.

Ronan's three spatial energy beads were invaluable.

"Despite the years, these beads retain their energy, full and pure... The creator was a master alchemist," Ronan mused, stowing his prize.