Chapter 350 Resolution and Roland’s Choice

Everyone was silent. The tall warrior who had been hit by the Eighth Tier Warrior removed his helmet halfway through the journey and spat out several mouthfuls of blood, which seemed to contain some internal organs. Yet, as if unaffected, he put his helmet back on, straightened his posture, and continued forward.

Shaoke intended to have the Cleric provide some auxiliary healing, but Mage Roman shook her head and refused. "He'll be fine. He just needs to go back and rest for a while," the Female Mage tightened her grip on Shaoke's arm, said no more, and simply followed the group.

Shaoke kept his emotions in check, knowing this was not the time to ask about the cause of the conflict.

By the time they returned to the castle, it was late at night. The Blizzard Warriors verified the identities of the returning Military Mages once more, then turned and left without a word. They had their own resting quarters, so Shaoke and the others didn't need to worry about them. After a brief exchange, the few attending Military Mages and warriors parted ways to their respective rooms to rest.

Shaoke and the three Female Spellcasters returned to Mage Roman's room. Her mood seemed particularly low. After drinking a glass of spirits, she lay down to rest, while Shaoke and the Cleric sat quietly nearby, unable to sleep.

"Can you tell me what happened at the banquet?" Shaoke placed his hand beside Mage Roman, letting her hold his arm as she drifted off, then turned to the White-robed Cleric for an explanation.

The Cleric glanced at Mage Roman, then signaled Lan Wei'er to leave the room before detailing the events of the banquet. Her account only fueled Shaoke's anger. The intense emotional fluctuation was quickly noticed by the Cleric, who immediately grabbed the Male Mage's arm, looking at him pleadingly, hoping he wouldn't become too agitated.

It turned out that everything had gone smoothly at the start of the banquet, but trouble arose during the dancing segment. The golden-haired young man from the Yisage Empire tried to invite Mage Roman to dance, but she refused. Dissatisfied with her rejection, he said something unpleasant to her. The Cleric then argued with him, and eventually, one of the young man's companions attempted to force Mage Roman to dance, only to be injured by her magic item, escalating the situation into what followed.

The White-robed Cleric's vague and simplistic explanation left Shaoke unsatisfied, but he didn't press her on what insults had been hurled at Mage Roman. Seeing her current state, however, he harbored deep resentment toward the people of the Yisage Empire. He also grew angry at the other guests present, wondering why no one from their own empire had stepped in to help when their people were being humiliated.

After the White-robed Cleric finished her account, Shaoke patted her head and urged her to rest, as the night's events had taken a toll on her as well. She looked exhausted and in dire need of extended sleep.

Once the two women had fallen asleep, Shaoke sat cross-legged and entered a meditative state, beginning his meditation.

The meditation space had begun to undergo subtle changes. The magic scripts floating in the air like stars started flickering rapidly, releasing surges of powerful magic and mental energy that fell like starlight onto the plants below. Stimulated by this energy, the plants grew rapidly. Time seemed to accelerate, with plants sprouting from seedlings to withering in an instant. Seeds fell to the ground, and new plants grew in their place.

Shaoke paid no attention to this phenomenon. Ever since he had arranged the Ancient Magic Scripts in a specific order and position according to the records in the Death Mage Corps' books, this cycle occurred periodically in his meditation space without causing any harm.

He focused his mind on the pool of liquid mental energy, where his spellbook, having absorbed enough mental energy, had evolved once more. He was now observing the state of the evolved spellbook.

Under his control, the spellbook slowly emerged from the milky white liquid. Its once light blue cover had turned gray-black, adorned with complex Ancient Magic Scripts and arrays, making it appear far more powerful than before. As he flipped through it, the contents caught his attention.

The spells he had previously transcribed were now neatly arranged, ordered by the consumption required for spellcasting. Each page contained a single spell, and around these spell structures, a faint layer of black Arcane Fire had formed. This fire could enhance the power of spells when Shaoke used special techniques to cast them. Naturally, the darker the fire, the greater the enhancement.

The spellbook appeared thinner, with all blank pages gone. In the future, when Shaoke transcribed new spells, he would need to use mental energy or magic to condense pages in a special way, as only such pages could withstand the increasingly complex spell structures.

After his inspection, Shaoke guided the spellbook to land gently on the altar still burning with Arcane Fire. There, the fire would scorch the book, further enhancing its power. As magic scripts escaped the altar, they passed through the spellbook before flying into the air, either vanishing or falling to the ground and disappearing. The strange magic scripts from the golden horn split into two parts: one merged into the spellbook, and the other settled into the meditation space.

Unable to control these changes, Shaoke let the meditation space evolve on its own. He felt that as long as it remained under his control and could supply the energy for his spellcasting, any strange transformations were not worth worrying about—though this was merely self-reassurance.

When he emerged from the meditation space, it was already broad daylight. Mage Roman beside him was still in deep sleep, while the White-robed Cleric curled up in his arms, reading her golden book. By the bed, Lan Wei'er pouted, dissatisfied that the Cleric was lying on Shaoke.

Shaoke leaned over to kiss Mage Roman and the Cleric, then planned to go outside for a walk. But Lan Wei'er immediately pounced onto the bed, hugging the Male Mage tightly and looking up at him, demanding a kiss. After getting what she wanted, she mimicked the Cleric's action, removed her boots, and lay down on Shaoke's lap, pulling out a book to read with an air of seriousness.

Seeing this, Shaoke shrugged helplessly. With the Cleric's smiling help, he grabbed a cushion to lean against, easing the strain.

After some time, Mage Roman finally opened her eyes. Her spirits seemed much improved, and a woman's unique blush had returned to her face.

"Is there anything to eat? I'd like some pastries," she said, kissing Shaoke and then her daughter's forehead before voicing her request. Lan Wei'er, seeing her mother awake, jumped off the bed, hastily put on her boots, and said she would fetch some food, leaving the room somewhat awkwardly.

Her behavior made Shaoke and the others chuckle softly. After laughing for a while, Mage Roman lay back in Shaoke's arms, gently playing with his black hair. "Your hair is too long. I should cut it for you," she said, then touched the Cleric's golden hair and compared it to Shaoke's, which nearly reached his knees. She shot him a dissatisfied glare before closing her eyes and falling silent.

Lan Wei'er soon returned with pastries and some fine wine. After the meal, she prepared to leave, but Mage Roman patted the spot beside her, inviting her to rest. "Take a day off. You can't be busy all the time."

"Mother, what really happened that day?" After some conversation, Lan Wei'er leaned closer to Mage Roman and cautiously asked her question. She couldn't understand why the Cleric had suggested her mother sleep with that man.

"I just burned one of that man's guards and nearly burned his head off. That's the reason," Mage Roman replied dismissively, then got up. "You two rest here. I have experiments waiting in the lab." After washing up and receiving Shaoke's instructions, she left the room. The Cleric also departed shortly after, leaving only Lan Wei'er and Shaoke.

"Mage Xueye, I want to go to the Academy City for a while," Lan Wei'er said, curling up beside Shaoke as she used to. "I think I can adapt to the outside world faster there alone." As she spoke, her expression turned uneasy, and she hugged Shaoke's hand, resting her head on his lap. She didn't want to leave him at all.

Her decision surprised Shaoke. He looked at the serious Female Mage, then patted her head. "It's up to you. Whatever you want to do, I'll support you." He sighed softly and lay back, falling silent.

He, too, wanted to leave—but to leave the Blue Feather Empire. Doing so, however, would deeply hurt Mage Roman and the others.

After a moment, Shaoke asked when she planned to leave. Lan Wei'er said she would go in a while to become a mage instructor at the Academy City, a profession she had grown to love.

Before long, Lan Wei'er fell asleep on Shaoke's lap, and he picked up a book to read. He now devoted most of his attention to spatial magic, knowing it would greatly aid him in the future. Such books were even rarer than those on mental magic.

Perhaps because he was a traveler from another world, Shaoke found learning spatial magic far easier than other types. We won't elaborate further here.

Soon, Mage Roman and the Cleric returned, their expressions grim. After signaling Lan Wei'er to sleep, Shaoke quietly asked what was wrong.

"We've received a warning from the military because of the banquet," Mage Roman said with a dismissive tone. "For the next few decades, the Cleric and I won't be able to return to the capital." She sat on the bed, studying her sleeping daughter.

"The military is sending us back to the Bloody Fortress," the Cleric whispered, holding Shaoke and telling him their future destination. Only there could they escape the harassment or impending retaliation from the Yisage Empire's envoys. That was the military's main reason for the arrangement.

"When do you leave?" Shaoke rubbed his temples irritably, and the Cleric gently massaged him. "I think you'll be more comfortable there," he said, feeling an inexplicable sense of relief. If they left, he would have no ties and could freely travel to other empires.

"We'll go with the next rotation of the 33rd Corps," Mage Roman said, kissing Lan Wei'er gently, then told Shaoke that Lan Wei'er would also be leaving. Shaoke nodded in agreement.

"But I want her to come with us to the Bloody Fortress. She can learn more there," Mage Roman added, looking at Shaoke, hoping he would persuade their daughter.

After thinking it over, Shaoke refused. "It's her choice. We can only help, not force her to change her mind. We just hope she won't regret it later. That's how we were back then. We can only do our best to support her."

His words displeased Mage Roman, but she said nothing, sighing and asking Shaoke to cast a sleep spell on Lan Wei'er, as her presence made certain things impossible.

Though puzzled, Shaoke cast the spell, ensuring Lan Wei'er would sleep deeply for three magic hours. "What is it?" he asked Mage Roman, but the White-robed Cleric suddenly embraced him and began kissing him.

"Let's be wild today," Mage Roman giggled, leading Shaoke to Lan Wei'er's room. She shed her robe and engaged in passionate intimacy with the Male Mage, while the physically weaker White-robed Cleric could only assist. Mindful of Lan Wei'er, they tidied up before the spell wore off and returned to the room to wait for her to wake.

Over the next month, Shaoke spent most of his time in the Blizzard Legion's small castle. Mage Roman and the Cleric were busy, leaving little time for intimacy. Since the sleep spell incident, Lan Wei'er often looked at Shaoke strangely, as if she knew what had happened, making him wonder if his spell had failed.

One day, after attempting to decipher an ancient book from the underground ruins with the Blue-robed Mage, a young mage informed him of a visitor. "Honorable Mage, a mage named Roland is waiting in the parlor. He says you know him," the young mage reported, bowing.

"Tell him I'll be there soon," Shaoke replied, taking the parlor's address before dismissing the mage. After a moment, he gathered his belongings, picked up his black staff, and headed to the parlor.

Years had passed since they last met. The two former companions sat in silence. Mage Roland bowed to Shaoke and sat down, while Shaoke nodded and studied him.

Roland looked slightly older. Without using mental energy to probe him, and since he wasn't wearing a robe, Shaoke couldn't determine his current rank—not that it mattered; he was just passing the time. Roland now wore a hereditary viscount's badge, which made Shaoke feel helpless.

"That night, when the Yisage Empire people insulted Mage Roman, I did nothing to stop them," Roland said, gripping his scepter tightly after a long silence. "I feel I no longer have the right to compete with you." His voice choked, making Shaoke uncomfortable.

"Even if you had intervened, it wouldn't have changed anything," Shaoke replied calmly, steadying his emotions. He doubted Roland had come just for this.

"I'm leaving the capital," Roland said, exhaling deeply. "I've applied for a fief from the military and the noble council. I'll build my family there." He added, "The fief is in the former Esuoer Empire, in the mountains. Before I leave, I hope to receive your blessing. Even if we've had our differences, I still want it."

Shaoke was stunned. After a long pause, he gave his blessing. Roland seemed relieved.

"I've married a minor noble's daughter. Her family is small but well-bred with a long history. We plan to merge our families into one," Roland said. "She's not very beautiful, but she's lovely."

After a moment, Shaoke asked, "Can I meet her sometime?" He wasn't sure if he'd have the time.

"Of course," Roland said, standing excitedly. "She's waiting outside. I wanted to bring her in, but I was afraid..." He trailed off, embarrassed, fidgeting with his gem-studded scepter.

"There's nothing to fear. Isn't that why you brought her?" Shaoke forced a gentle smile, hoping to ease Roland's tension. Grateful, Roland bowed and brought his wife in.

She wasn't particularly beautiful but had a good figure and impeccable manners, leaving a favorable impression on Shaoke. After a brief chat, Roland said his goodbyes. Shaoke wasn't sure if they'd ever meet again. As Roland left, Mage Roman and the White-robed Cleric saw them off, staying until Roland and his wife were out of the capital, then they returned.

--- Earth Treasury Sutra --- For those in need of reading material, it might suit your taste. Thanks!

First release.