Chapter 231
Marcus Breno was feeling extrely frustrated.
He was a nightwatchman for the Radiant Church—soone who operated in the shadows, handling tasks for the church that couldn’t be done openly.
Tasks like getting rid of a not-so-pious lord, secretly searching for magical items in a noble’s ho, or monitoring a big rchant suspected of trafficking contraband...
Of course, "respectable people don’t beco nightwatchn." Except for those who were overly devout and had fried brains, or mbers of the judiciary with particular interests, most of the nightwatchn were recruited through various peculiar channels.
Like Marcus Breno himself, who had been discovered as a teenager in a thieves’ den eradicated by the judiciary...
With such a background, it wasn’t easy to expect any special treatnt. For example, this ti he had been dispatched to the distant pagan kingdom across the sea, the headquarters of evil demons, to investigate the secret of that Dragon’s Breath spell.
How could a re level one junior mage use the Dragon’s Breath spell? Did he obtain so ancient artifact, or was he blessed by the dragon race, or perhaps he acquired a dragon’s nest?
The directive from the judiciary’s higher-ups was clear: find this secret, and if possible, bring back the treasure...
So he was sent here. After that battle half a year ago, just a map was provided, and the rest was up to him.
It was ridiculous. He knew how difficult it was to find an unknown level one mage in such a remote place. The problem was, how could they not even figure out a na after half a year of trouble?
And his ship sank! Sank! All the supplies, manpower, everything, all gone. He could only work as a little helper in the city’s outpost, partly to cover his identity, partly to make ends et...
To make matters worse, when he desperately escaped from the ship, he got hit... That mass of black energy was still condensed on his right leg, tornting him day and night.
Marcus Breno grabbed a towel, biting it tightly as he poured holy water on the burn on his thigh. His body trembled violently, veins popping up on his neck, beads of sweat rolling down his arms and thighs.
The place where the holy water fell sizzled. A black smoke quickly rose, swallowing up all the golden light circulating in the holy water. The mass of black energy on his leg seed to diminish slightly, yet at the sa ti, it showed no sign of healing, and the blisters on his thigh, as large as beans, showed no sign of recovery.
The boss leaned forward attentively, watching intently. Until the last bit of golden light disappeared and there was no more movent, he exhaled a breath, realizing that his lungs were hurting from being held for so long. He patted Marcus Breno’s shoulder sympathetically, lowering his voice:
"You should rest for a few days. I’ll go out and inquire, see where this Garrett Nordmark lives, and where it’s convenient to make a move. Everything is ready, then you can take action."
"Ugh..." Marcus Breno tried to struggle, but the holy water poured on him caused intense pain in his leg, leaving him feeling exhausted. With his last bit of strength, he pulled out the towel and lay back:
"Thank you for your hard work..."
"All for the Radiant Lord."
"All for the Radiant Lord!"
The seasoned spy of 20 years and the temporarily dispatched operative prayed together in unison.
The next day, the boss went out to gather information. He had been undercover in Nevis City for 20 years, and even though he only ran a quiet little shop, he had accumulated quite a network of contacts. After asking around, he actually got quite a few leads:
"Garrett Nordmark? He cured my gout!" — From the fishmonger he knew at the dock.
"Garrett Nordmark? That na sounds familiar, let
think... Ah, yes, he published an article in ’Arcane’ in the early part of the year!" — From a lazy magician who had been eating in the shop for seven or eight years.
"Garrett Nordmark? He went to Thunder Horn. What’s he doing there? Isn’t it obvious? He’s on the mountain peak! Ah, why are you asking about him?" — From an assistant at Bridge Magic Academy.
Not only did he inquire from people, but the boss also mobilized other secret agents connected to him through the church to investigate Garrett’s whereabouts in various ways. For example, a snack vendor who sold fried small fish and grilled squid specifically squatted near the train station, keeping an eye on when Garrett would co down...
Garrett was oblivious to all of this. He strolled peacefully through the campus in the early morning, taking advantage of the ti before the eting to take a few extra rounds. Oh, there were so green mold spots under this tree, didn’t look like moss, he’d dig them up and take them away; under that piece of wall paint...
"Sir! Sir! How many slices of blue cheese would you like?"
"Uh..." Oops, miscalculated, this blue one is cheese, not mold... No, wait, the blue in blue cheese is also caused by so kind of mold, just with very little penicillin content? He had a shattered worldview when he read the gossip from his previous life...
Garrett imdiately took out his wallet: "Give
a pound! No, two pounds!"
"Garrett, haven’t you finished eating yet?" Soone called him from behind. Garrett turned around and saw several classmates who had gathered together yesterday, waving to Anthony Valentine, who had entered Thunder Horn with him, with a smile as bright as his golden hair:
"Hurry up and finish eating! After we’re done, let’s go and grab a good spot! I heard a legendary master is coming today!"
Seven or eight people surged forward. Garrett quickly stuffed the cheese into his spatial bag and walked over to join them. Anthony imdiately pushed him into the middle:
"Co on, let’s go together! Where did you go early in the morning—right, has your ntor arrived? No? Then co with us, or you won’t get in. Yesterday was a ss, and I didn’t hear what you’ve been up to lately..."
Garrett looked around. Among this group of people, there were five who stayed to work on the peak: one in the molding departnt, one in the illusion departnt, one in the transfiguration departnt, one in the protection departnt, plus one in the enchantnt departnt. They were the first batch to receive offers, and although they could only work in the sub-towers of each departnt, they were considered outstanding.
However, at this mont, these outstanding students were on both sides, surrounding a guy who had been accepted in the second batch because of his diocre grades—the one who stayed at school to beco an assistant. He was now excited and a little furtive, leading them to the side entrance of the auditorium:
"Co on, co on, follow
this way, the staff entrance! Let
tell you, it’s super difficult to get a ticket for this annual eting. Except for those who got an invitation from the ntor—none of you, right?—no one else can get in. You can co in the afternoon and evening, but the legendary master will have already left!
We assistants are lucky; we’re helping inside and out at the venue. It’s okay to stand closer and listen once it starts. Follow , but don’t run around!"
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