Chapter Nineteen: Racing Against Time

A fortress’s downfall often begins from within. With Louis acting as their inside guide, Andy and Katherine found it much easier to move about within Collinburg.

So, while the city watch scoured Andas City in a fruitless, exhausting search for Andy, he had already finished bathing and was enjoying a lavish dinner with Katherine, occasionally critiquing the culinary skills of the castle’s chefs.

Of course, Andy was not lost in indulgence—he merely allowed himself a brief respite from the constant tension. He knew his predicament was far from resolved; after all, the voodoo puppet only granted control over Louis for forty-eight hours. After that, whether Louis was killed, released, or imprisoned, the people at the castle would surely notice something was amiss. A castle’s steward was by no means a dispensable figure. This meant Andy’s window of safety was just two days. He intended to use this time to strengthen himself as much as possible.

His first shortcut was to inquire about the whereabouts of the Prague Question Chair, which could raise his mental power to the level of a higher apprentice—allowing him to learn three first-level spells and dramatically improve his combat abilities.

Unfortunately, the news from Steward Louis was not promising. According to Louis, the treasures looted from the wizard’s tower—aside from a few mundane items stored in the castle warehouse—had all been placed in the lord’s secret vault, including the most valuable wizard-related resources. Louis did know where the secret vault was, but it was located in the lord’s study, perilously close to the residence of the grand knight, Cromwell.

Attempting to get his hands on the Prague Question Chair was not feasible for the time being; Andy would have to be patient. After dinner, he had Louis stand guard outside the parlor, while he and Katherine entered deep meditation to study the models for constructing first-level spells.

In this moment, every second counted for them.

…

Viscount Collin was livid—not because of some insignificant “vermin” who could barely stir the waters, but because of the distant legendary Marshal Vaughan in Silverwing Fortress.

He had just received word that Vaughan’s elite order, the Divine Wind Knights, would arrive in Dallas in three days, claiming to escort strategic supplies to Silverwing Fortress.

Who would believe such an excuse? Dallas was the logistical base for Silverwing Fortress, and the road between them had long been cleared repeatedly of all monsters and bandits. Even a small detachment led by one of Collin’s knights could manage the escort, as had been done many times before.

But now, the Divine Wind Knights—a force boasting two grand knights and several knights, powerful enough to flatten Dallas—were being dispatched. Viscount Collin had no doubt their true target was not potential threats along the road, but himself.

The memory of Marshal Vaughan’s letter from a few days prior made Collin feel as though he were sitting on pins and needles. If he couldn’t cover up the shortfall and give Vaughan a satisfactory account, the marshal might well account for him instead.

Thankfully, he had decisively seized the wizard’s tower and secured a trove of resources. Yet, despite the abundance, there still weren’t enough magic stones to cover the deficit. Frequent use of the magic mirror meant most of the misappropriated strategic supplies consisted of magic stones.

This brought the Darkmoon Circus to mind—the largest dealer in magical resources on the Doran Continent, surely possessing enough magic stones for a trade. Collin could easily exchange the seized resources for magic stones to patch the shortfall.

Not wanting to delay, Collin resolved to contact the Darkmoon Circus that very night and arrange to complete the transaction the following day. But when he sent a maid to fetch Steward Louis, the man was nowhere to be found. Collin cursed the useless wretch, suspecting he was off carousing with the maids again. If not for being his wife’s cousin, he’d have thrown him out long ago.

Left with no choice, Collin summoned Knight Macon to arrange the meeting with the Darkmoon Circus’s manager for the next day’s transaction.

Watching Macon’s departing figure, Collin’s mind was in turmoil, but now was not the time for sentiment—he had to see to the accounts as well. Everything must appear seamless before the Divine Wind Knights arrived.

In this moment, Viscount Collin, too, was racing against time.

…

At that very hour, in a shadowy alley of the slums, Knight John—or rather, the masked Rider Schmidt—met once more with the lion-taming girl from the Darkmoon Circus.

This time, she was not accompanied by her lion, but cloaked head to toe. After exchanging the correct passwords, the girl relayed an urgent message: in three days, the Divine Wind Knights would arrive in Dallas to “protect” the strategic supply stores—a grave threat to their plans.

Schmidt drew a sharp breath; his timetable had to move up, or all opportunity would be lost once the knights arrived.

He was not, however, unprepared. He had a fair measure of confidence in his team, especially with the addition of a new asset just the day before.

Yesterday, he had revealed his true identity to win over Bill, a higher apprentice skilled in fireball magic—the perfect recruit for burning down supplies. Schmidt had surreptitiously sent word to Bill to leave the Phillips estate ahead of the castle’s raid, sparing him from the sweep. Since John’s face had been seen by Bill during Jera’s abduction, Schmidt met Bill under the guise of Schmidt, claiming to be a friend of Stein.

Unexpectedly, Bill not only escaped but also brought with him a powerless burden, the girl named Jera. Schmidt quickly saw her usefulness; with a few words, he stoked her grief and resentment over her parents’ deaths, directing her hatred squarely at Viscount Collin—the true culprit behind the destruction of the Phillips estate and the seizure of Stein’s wizard’s tower. Whether for vengeance or to honor his mentor, Bill was now determined to make Collin pay.

Assaulting the heavily-guarded castle was foolish, so Schmidt subtly suggested that Collin was responsible for safeguarding certain vital resources—if they were destroyed or went missing, higher authorities would punish him. And to destroy them, all they needed was the right chance to set a fire.

At the mention of arson, Bill’s eyes lit up—he was quite adept at that sort of thing. He and Jera pleaded with Schmidt for help in creating the opportunity, so they could avenge themselves on Viscount Collin.

Moved by their earnestness, Schmidt agreed, albeit with feigned reluctance.

Thus, Bill became a powerful ally in his plan. The other was the Gillian Brotherhood.

Schmidt had already established contact with the Brotherhood, long supported by the Principality of Ceyne to stir up trouble within the Kingdom of Elan. Schmidt intended to use them to divert the city watch’s attention, with a few additional manipulations to ensure their actions unfolded as he wished.

Recalling his preparations, Schmidt felt his plan taking more concrete shape. He took his leave from the lion girl and hurried off into the night to set things in motion.

He, too, was racing against time.

…

Meanwhile, Stein had quietly returned to Dallas and, without drawing attention, learned all he could about the happenings in the city. He made for his wizard’s tower at once, scoffing at the city guards’ overt and covert surveillance—so laughably inept, for mere mortals could never comprehend a wizard’s tricks. He simply walked past a squad of soldiers without arousing the slightest suspicion.

But Stein’s pride vanished when he entered the wizard’s tower. He became frantic—the place had been stripped cleaner than a dog’s bowl. Cursing under his breath, he coughed up more blood in his agitation.

He had carefully amassed enough resources for his grand scheme, lacking only one final, critical ingredient: the silk of the Faceless Spider.

The Faceless Spider was a fearsome, venomous beast that even bronze wizards avoided. Stein had only managed to collect its silk after much preparation, concocting an antidote and narrowly surviving the ordeal.

But just as he finally secured the silk, all his other hard-won resources were stolen. Rage overwhelmed him, and he was wracked with another fit of bloody coughing.

After several moments to collect himself, Stein ascended to the tower’s summit. With his one remaining hand, he began forming intricate hand seals and chanting a long, complex incantation.

Soon, an obscure glow flickered atop a northern watchtower. Then another to the southwest, then the northeast, northwest, southeast, and due south—towers Stein himself had helped construct for Dallas. From above, they formed a strange six-pointed star. Subtle magical energies, undetectable even to the wizards residing among the Darkmoon Circus, began to flow among the towers, converging on Stein’s wizard’s tower.

He exhaled in relief. His core arrangement was intact. All he lacked now was the power to activate it.

“It seems I’ll have to resort to Plan B,” Stein muttered, cursing Viscount Collin for stealing his resources as he painstakingly carved dense runes atop the tower, carefully linking them with the Faceless Spider’s silk. He knew he had, at most, three days before his injuries claimed his life. Before that, he had to enact this desperate, fate-altering scheme. As for the fate of his apprentice, now seemingly wanted by the authorities—he could no longer spare a thought.

In this moment, Stein was racing against time.