Chapter 680: The Highest Honor

"Still lacking in composure," Liszt thought with some regret as he watched Cris accidentally shatter the teacup.

While Archmages and dragon knights were indeed unfathomable existences, as a sky knight or great magician, one should have seen much of the world and held status and prestige—composure shouldn’t be so fragile.

However.

He still spoke gently, "Cris, steady yourself. There’s no need to be so astonished."

Cris looked down at the shattered teacup and the spilled tea, seeming to realize she had overreacted. "Lord Viscount, you’re certain you didn’t misspeak? Your sister is so young—are you sure she isn’t a great magician, but rather an Archmage, a being of legend?"

"You should know I’m not one for jests. Acheronides has only recently connected to the Magic Web and completed elemental transformation, becoming a true Archmage. She is likely the only Archmage born in the Sapphire Duchy—or even the entire Steel Ridge and Bear-Eagle Kingdoms—in the past century."

"She’s truly an Archmage?"

Cris clutched her chest, still unable to believe it as she stared at Acheronides.

Breaking the cup earlier had been due to the sudden shock, but the shattering had snapped her out of panic, allowing her to quickly calm down and wonder if Liszt was joking. Yet his tone held no trace of humor.

And this petite, clear-eyed, flawless female magician before her betrayed no hint of jest either.

Most importantly, the wavering, ephemeral presence emanating from the other woman made Cris’s heart race. When she tried to focus on it, the sensation vanished, as if it were an illusion. But as a great magician with sharp senses and heightened sensitivity to magic power, Cris doubted she’d imagine things.

Thus, it was highly likely all of this was true.

The petite female magician before her was indeed an Archmage.

A being hailed as the living incarnation of truth in the mortal world, gradually becoming a legend—Archmages like Cris had never heard of living Archmages. They had only pieced together their majesty from scattered words in fragments of magic tomes left behind by Archmages.

Odum·Truth, Cavasi·Truth…

Many magicians could recite the names of these Archmages, yet they were all figures from the era of the Moon Empire. Steeped in the glory of magicians ruling the world, they crowned magic as the only truth. Their legends spanned from the continent to the moon.

Yet times changed. Knights swiftly replaced magicians as the world’s ruling orthodoxy. While ancient warriors and mages weren’t branded heretics, they eroded into oblivion.

Liszt, with a hint of mischief, was about to explain in detail why Acheronides was an Archmage, eager to revel in Cris’s dawning realization—from disbelief to confusion, then shock, and finally acceptance.

But Acheronides suddenly raised her hand without a word.

A water arrow condensed in an instant, and in the next moment, it flashed from her hand to halt a hair’s breadth from Cris’s eyes.

The sudden movement sent a tremor through Cris again.

Yet as she stared at the suspended water arrow, she froze. "This is…"

"An Archmage’s control over magic is fundamentally different from that of a great magician, Cris. You may examine this water arrow—it’s formed by the Magic Web’s magic power, and its existence is sustained by the Magic Web. If I wish, it can remain here indefinitely."

For a stranger, Acheronides rarely ever spoke at such length.

It surprised Liszt.

And sent a tremor through Cris.

In her understanding, once magic was cast, it couldn’t be halted—only continued or collapsed outright.

Yet here was a basic water spell—Water Arrow—hovering motionless before her, its tangible magic power palpable. Hesitantly, she reached out a finger, touching the arrow. The condensed water allowed her finger to pass through without dispersing.

In that instant, she sensed the higher-order magic within. Though unfamiliar with its nature, she couldn’t deny the weight of its superiority.

"Such formidable magic power… such unbelievable magic!" Cris withdrew her finger, her gaze toward Acheronides no longer doubtful but alight with devotion. "Lady Acheronides·Truth, great Archmage, please allow Cris to offer you her deepest reverence."

With that, she knelt on one knee, solemnly performing a rare gesture of reverence.

Even towards her savior Liszt, she had never performed such a devout courtesy—after all, whether knights or mages, they revered the strong above all else, and Archmage Acheronides was clearly far superior to "Sky Knight" Liszt.

Liszt felt no jealousy.

If he had arrived on Leo, he was certain Cris would have offered the same reverent salute.

But there was no need for that. He had always earned his subordinates' respect and loyalty through sheer charisma, not overwhelming power.

Besides, this was Acheronides' moment to shine—why would he steal the spotlight?

Acheronides had little experience interacting with humans, but as someone both intelligent and backed by formidable power, she didn’t need to master social graces. She spoke plainly: "Cris, my brother asked you to assist me in researching magic. I have many experiments that need your assistance."

Cris immediately exclaimed in delight, "It would be my greatest honor to serve the great Archmage!"

Then, in a hushed tone, she added, "And if I could receive even a word or two of your guidance, it would set my heart aflame with excitement."

"Very well. Assist me in my research, and I will find time to mentor your practice," Acheronides easily won Cris over. Given her status, it truly only took a flick of her finger for a great mage to compete fiercely for the privilege—the status of an Archmage among mages was sacred.

Witnessing this, Liszt said with satisfaction, "Cris, Acheronides' identity must remain confidential. You must not speak of it to anyone."

"Why, Lord Viscount? Lady Acheronides is the embodiment of truth walking among mortals. Shouldn’t she spread the radiance of truth among humanity? If Lady Acheronides requires a laboratory, I would gladly relinquish my mage tower and serve by her side."

"Give it a few years. Having just advanced to Archmage, she needs time to adjust, free from worldly distractions," Liszt stated firmly. "The mage tower will remain under your leadership—after all, it was built for you. Acheronides will reside in my castle, and her laboratory will be constructed there directly."

Acheronides remained silent, deferring to Liszt's arrangements.

Cris pleaded eagerly, "Then, Lord Viscount, might I have a room in the castle? I wish to serve Lady Acheronides at all times!"

And indeed, Acheronides could use a great mage as an assistant.

According to many magical texts, ancient Archmages were always surrounded by numerous mages, much like a lord’s knights.

After a moment’s thought, Liszt replied, "A room can be reserved for you in the castle, but your primary duties will remain at the mage tower. The team of mages there still requires your leadership."

"Thank you, Lord Viscount!"