Tars's heart leapt into his throat—and he readily admitted, it wasn't just out of concern for the little insectoid. Though he still had four spells like Demonic Body to master, he was desperate to find that legendary, miraculous spring within the city. Even if he ran out of spells to learn, he could still practice his meditation methods; with the spring's help, his progress would surely be lightning-fast. He recalled how the Spirit-Mind Potion had been a godsend for mastering meditation runes.

  Go, Bahunt! Show us your resolve!

  If you're a man, be fearless! Punch him! Punch that hairless, handsome face!

  As if hearing Tars's internal cheering, several ripples of magical energy flashed across Bahunt's body. He lunged forward, a longsword appearing in his hand as if from nowhere. This was the first time Tars had seen him use a blade. The two heavy-armored guards were quick, but they were slashed in half diagonally in a blurred instant. The wizard apprentice in the ornate robes took the opportunity to retreat, narrowly dodging a strike.

  The robed apprentice seemed to be pulled backward by an unseen force. Maintaining his retreat, he brandished his wooden staff, and countless Firebolts twisted into existence in mid-air, hurtling toward the charging bruiser.

  The flames instantly engulfed him.

  Tars was the most observant among the crowd. He didn't fixate on the strangely shaped fireballs; instead, he watched Bahunt's longsword and the two corpses neatly cleaved in two. His mind raced, but some pieces of the puzzle still wouldn't fit together or make sense.

  "Hahaha! Decades later, and you still think like a knight. Knights are fit only to be guards!" the robed apprentice shouted, his hands never ceasing their spellcasting. "Spending so much effort to deconstruct a First-Ring spell, and you chose Stone Fist? Waste of time and resources. A crude man like you will never go far on this path."

  Seizing the rare opportunity, Tars stared wide-eyed at the fight. It was exactly as he suspected: combat between wizard apprentices centered on solidified spells, which could be cast wildly and without fear of interruption. It was fast, efficient, and low-cost, supplemented by other spells or specialized modifications. The robed apprentice's staff and robes were clearly not just for show.

  Suddenly, the robed apprentice's movements hitched, as if a force were tugging him from the side rather than confronting him head-on.

  Bahunt burst from the smoke and dust like a bolt of lightning. In that moment, any Firebolt that came near him seemed to slow down. With his agility, he evaded them with ease; not one in ten hit their mark. If these high-speed bolts were slowed so much, ordinary ones would have looked like crawling snails. A brilliant silver blade swept upward toward the robed apprentice like a ghost.

  The expensive-looking staff snapped in two. The robed apprentice dodged another strike, his face pale and contorted.

  Tars hissed with disappointment. He looked around, tempted to distance himself from the fray, but seeing the Fire Guy and Kanaya still by the campfire, he stayed put, merely edging closer to the elf.

  "You... you actually succeeded?"

  The robed apprentice composed himself, staring calmly at Bahunt's sword-wielding hands.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  "Not yet, but it's enough. Deconstructing a First-Ring spell isn't that easy, but it's not as hard as I imagined either," Bahunt replied.

  "So, if you had used your full strength in that first burst, you could have killed me..." The robed apprentice ignored the latter half of the sentence, obsessed with confirming his suspicion.

  Bahunt said nothing. He crouched slightly—Boom!

  The surrounding apprentices cried out in shock.

  One of the robed apprentice's arms, still clutching the broken staff, went spinning into the air. Layer upon layer of defensive spells that Tars didn't recognize shattered, their light dissipating into nothingness. Simultaneously, a Firebolt stretched into a needle-like shape was casually dodged by Bahunt.

  The robed apprentice stared at Bahunt in silence for a long time. Suddenly, he bowed deeply, picked up his severed arm, and turned to leave. High above, the black claw holding the little crybaby insectoid vanished.

  Tars looked up. He couldn't see the insectoid's expression, only that the creature took the chance to vanish back into stealth. While he was dazed, Bahunt walked slowly back to the campfire. The Fire Guy stirred his spoon and handed Bahunt a bowl of thick soup brimming with meat and mushrooms. Bahunt took it and sat by the fire, drinking in silence.

  No one else present dared to stop the little insectoid as it moved toward the shimmering, illusory city like a moth to a flame. Those lacking courage had been shocked into silence.

  Tars looked around, ran over to pick up the broken half of the staff with the large black crystal, and returned to the fire to give it to Bahunt. The big man gave a curt nod and tucked the item away.

  As they spoke, the city grew several sizes larger. Tars looked on; he could now see magnificent structures, mostly white with occasional black accents. The layout of the streets and houses was orderly yet beautiful, with clearly defined districts—some looking like forested gardens.

  "Legend says the people living in this city were servants who served that wizard for their entire lives," Kanaya whispered beside Tars. "The wizard needed subjects for his experiments, so he granted those who labored for him a strange form of eternal life..."

  "I bet they can't enjoy good food," the Fire Guy said without looking up.

  I bet they weren't exactly volunteers! Tars thought. It was never that easy for commoners to get eternal life.

  He watched the city, his heart in his mouth, fearing the little crybaby would end up like its aunts—turning to ash like a moth in a flame. If that happened, he'd have to come up with a "white lie" for the little bug still in the egg. That little fellow in the shell hadn't sparked its "light of wisdom" yet, but it was getting smarter by the day—a strange creature indeed.

  The wait was long. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. The silence was absolute; even the lizardmen slowed their breathing, and one who had an itchy nose was promptly slapped by a comrade.

  Suddenly, the entire space shivered.

  It was as if a key, waiting for a thousand years, had finally been inserted into the Mystery City.

  It began to expand rapidly before their eyes. Tars strained to find the insectoid, finally spotting a small, blurred figure darting across the end of a street and disappearing into a building. As the city grew, he could see silhouettes through the windows of some houses; people were spinning and dancing, appearing to be in the midst of a joyous ball. He gazed at the scene—what should have looked like a happy sight felt unsettling and bizarre.

  As the city reached full size, a series of golden, shimmering staircases descended from the sky.

  Tars looked at his companions. The Fire Guy had packed away his pot. Everyone was on high alert, and the wild wizard apprentices in the distance had eyes gleaming with suppressed excitement. Following his personal rule, Tars watched Kanaya and the others. Only when they moved did he follow. The golden stairs were breathtakingly beautiful. The moment they touched down, apprentices began to ascend, their figures vanishing as they stepped up. Tars and his group followed. Walking beside Bahunt, Tars felt a bit like a fox flaunting the tiger's authority; no one dared come near them, leaving an entire staircase for their private use.

  The moment he stepped onto the stairs, a blinding golden light swallowed him.

  A second later, he appeared in a plaza. He blinked, taking in the beautiful fountains in the distance and several unfamiliar wizard apprentices nearby. Kanaya and the Fire Guy were gone, but fortunately, Bahunt was still standing beside him.