Chapter 240: The Death Stronghold in the Capital

The two mages who opened a tavern ended up wandering aimlessly through the streets of the capital in a carriage, until Mage Roman broke the silence that had hung since they left the tavern. "Mage Roland once pursued me back then. I figured after all these years, he'd have forgotten me," she said, resting her head on Shaoke's shoulder. "I didn't expect that after returning from the battlefield, he would still pursue me just like before." She looked at Shaoke somewhat uncertainly. "Are you angry?"

"A little," Shaoke said, embracing her and kissing her smooth forehead. "Don't accept Mage Roland's invitations anymore. Acting like this could easily make him think you're into him."

"Mm," the female mage replied softly. "When are we going to see Female Mage Yisier? She's still with her husband right now!" She couldn't help but laugh. "If her husband knew that Female Mage Yisier had you as a lover, she'd be furious and come looking for you." She gently bit his ear, leaving a clear tooth mark.

"That's not what we're talking about now," Shaoke said awkwardly, changing the subject. "Where are we staying tonight? Are we just going to spend it in this carriage?" His hand began to wander restlessly over her body, teasing her private parts. Of course, her resistance wasn't strong; instead, she squirmed to meet his movements. But she suppressed her voice, not wanting the driver outside to hear her embarrassing moans at all.

After a brief moment of passion in the carriage, the two mages quickly found an inn—the same one Shaoke had stayed at years ago on his way back to the capital from the Misty Forest. Satisfied with the service, he convinced Mage Roman to stay there for the night.

The room was spacious, even featuring a small bathtub. After enjoying a bath, the two mages spent a passionate night together, as Shaoke had previously told Female Mage Roman that he planned to seek out the Death Mage Corps' base to study some sixth-rank spells. After all, the books he had brought out years ago contained no spell records.

Female Mage Roman struggled to keep up with the male mage's thrusts from behind. She had no strength left to stay on her hands and knees; if Shaoke hadn't been gripping her hips, she would have collapsed onto the bed. Yet the stimulation made her push back against him, seeking maximum pleasure. With a low shout and a shudder from the male mage, they clung tightly together, collapsing onto the bed, breathing heavily.

The next day, at dawn, Shaoke woke up to begin his routine practice, while Female Mage Roman curled up in his arms, quietly feeling the warmth from his body, too lazy to budge.

After breakfast, the two mages spent the morning together in the room before parting ways. After one more round of intimacy, Female Mage Roman let Shaoke leave, and she returned to the small castle where the Blizzard Legion was stationed.

Bidding farewell to her, Shaoke followed the address given to him by a Death Mage years ago and quickly found the Death Mage Corps' base in the capital. The base was modest, located in a courtyard near the imperial city. An elderly man dressed as a steward greeted him, checked his documents, and led him inside.

The room was small and bare, with little furniture. After the silent steward fiddled with a silver branch candlestick on the wall, a section of the floor slid open, revealing a dark passage. Not bothered, Shaoke lit the flame on his staff after confirming his identity—a green flame that floated down from the staff's tip and hovered steadily above his hand. Small sparks occasionally flew off, darting forward under his mental control before vanishing into the air.

The passage sloped downward. After walking just over ten meters, the floor above closed shut, but Shaoke remained calm, maintaining his pace. After nearly a hundred meters, a black stone door made of an unknown material blocked his path. The door was carved with dozens of small magic arrays and adorned with ferocious beast heads. After examining it closely, Shaoke followed the method the Death Mage had taught him: he tossed the flame onto the door and chanted a brief incantation in an ancient remnant language. Though this language was less powerful than even modern magical tongues, books recording it were extremely rare—Shaoke hadn't even seen it in the Mage Guild's library.

The short incantation ended quickly. The green flame on the door burst apart, spreading rapidly onto the stone beast heads. Through these heads, the flames formed a strange pattern that briefly disoriented Shaoke. After a short adjustment, the flames vanished, and the stone door slowly creaked open, releasing a powerful wave of magical energy.

"What are you hesitating for?" a raspy voice came from the dark passage. "Next time you enter, be quicker. Otherwise, others might easily sense the magical fluctuations here." The voice faded, though the speaker didn't seem concerned about outsiders detecting the array's activity. After all, among the top-tier professionals and high-ranking figures in the capital, no one dared to provoke the Death Mage Corps.

Shaoke looked toward the voice, seeing a vague, twisting shadow ahead. After a brief hesitation, he quickly stepped into the passage radiating intense energy, following the twisting shadow as it moved swiftly without waiting for him.

Unconcerned, Shaoke relied on the green flame's light to traverse nearly a kilometer before reaching his destination—a moderately sized underground chamber lit by candles. He noticed other passages branching off from this space. Inside, another mage, also wrapped in a robe, rechecked his documents.

"Tell me which spells you want to learn, and I'll have them brought to you. You're not allowed to go anywhere else," the mage said after confirming Shaoke's identity. Shaoke understood the condition; since he was no longer part of the Death Mage Corps, he had no right to freely explore other areas.

A simple magical message was sent out, and the mage pointed to a chair, signaling Shaoke to sit. "Come back to the Death Mage Corps," the mage broke the silence. "Everything here is better than the outside. We sixth-tier mages only need to handle simple tasks."

The Death Mage's straightforward invitation didn't strike Shaoke as odd; he was used to such directness. "No, I'll return to my hometown first and rest there for a while," Shaoke declined without hesitation.

"Oh," the mage mused, remaining silent until footsteps approached from the passage. Then he spoke again: "If you change your mind, the Death Mage Corps welcomes you anytime. Remember, as a wandering mage, never join any so-called wanderer's guilds. Their key members are prime targets for nobles and merchants. If you join one, I fear they won't hesitate to hunt you down." With that, the Death Mage fell silent.

As footsteps drew nearer, a young second-tier mage emerged from one of the passages, handing Shaoke a small magic bag. After bowing to both mages, he quickly retreated.

"Some sixth-tier robes and spell materials are here. You can study them in the courtyard above until you master the sixth-tier spells you want to learn. Then you can leave," the mage said, staring intently at Shaoke. After a moment's hesitation, he didn't try to persuade him further and let him go.

Back on the surface, the stern-looking steward gave him a detailed introduction to the premises, summoning numerous maids and physicians to ensure Shaoke's comfort. He was allowed to bring outsiders to rest here but couldn't reveal the Death Mage Corps' base entrance—a secret still kept from low-order beings.

After some thought, Shaoke decided to inform Female Mage Roman of his temporary stay here and invited her to visit when she had time.

A thick, large-format book contained simple descriptions of all sixth-tier spells, including common ones, military spells, and those exclusive to the Death Mage Corps. Shaoke spent nearly three months thoroughly studying it. Since he was no longer in a rush to learn high-tier spells, he devoted much of his daily time to reading other books and practicing Ancient Magic Script.

Though he could now pronounce almost all Ancient Magic Script characters, he couldn't string them together fluently for chanting complex spells. His meditation space still couldn't handle large outputs of mental energy and magic power, and chanting in Ancient Script would increase the risk of destabilizing his meditation space.