Chapter 41: Daley Findlay
7:00 A.M.
A black-curtained Brougham rolled down Garden Street, halting before a four-story building crowned with an iron gate. The carriage door opened, and a young man with jet-black hair stepped out first, adjusting his bowler hat and securing a monocle.
“Is this the Inn?” he asked.
Behind him, a middle-aged man, a maid, and a young woman in a black robe erged, all staring at the do-shaped building.
“The whole Garden Street is part of this Inn,” Selene explained, eyes tracing the structure. “The front is just the entrance. Each guest gets a private house—small or mansion-sized—depending on their booking. Wizards like Johnathan and Judith stayed here for decades. Privacy is the main attraction.”
Jacob tossed a gold coin to the driver, sending the carriage on its way, while Raven flipped his pocket watch open and stepped closer to the gate.
“Welco to the Crown’s Tavern, esteed guests!” Two young guards in red uniforms bowed, rifles in hand. One stepped forward.
“Please show your identity certificate, sir. Only Royals, nobles, and Wizards may enter.”
Raven produced the Warrant of Precedence. The guard scanned it, brow rising.
“Lord of Hols? Knight Household?”
Raven’s voice was calm. “Even Knights count as nobles. My family once held the title.”
Recognition dawned in the guard’s eyes. “Forgive my rudeness, Sir Thomas. Even barons hesitate to co here due to the cost.”
Raven nodded and stepped inside. Ivy draped the tall entrance, archways curved elegantly, and embroidered curtains frad tall windows. Servants scurried, guiding guests, carrying luggage. A pale-skinned youth with long, snowy hair and blue eyes passed by, flanked by an entourage.
Raven squinted through his monocle. Prodigy rank? Only a few exist per generation. And yet… he’s only an Acolyte Wizard?
“Who is that young man?” he asked.
“Daley Findlay,” Jacob murmured. “Once a rumored genius, now a disappointnt to his family. Still, respect him if you cross paths, My Lord.”
Selene added, “He’s the great-grandson of Viola Findlay. Fourth child of her third son’s first son. The family rose quickly but isn’t fully recognized by ancient families.”
Raven’s interest piqued. “Tell more.”
“He’s a fifth-year at Crows Misery Academy. High-rank Ice affinity got him in, but he stalled after the first year. Rumors say he may be expelled.”
Raven’s brow arched. “Shall we recruit him after expulsion?”
Selene and Jacob exchanged worried glances. “Even expelled, he’s from a Margrave family. His assets exceed yours. Two knights escort him—peak Radiant Rank. Don’t even consider it.”
“His cousin aims for the upcoming Sage candidate selection. Aligning with him could be advantageous,” Selene suggested.
Raven nodded absently, glancing at the pale youth. “Sage and Serpent competition, huh?”
Jacob stepped aside. “I’ll book the rooms.”
As Jacob moved toward the reception, Selene whispered, “Serpents excel in battle, and they are bound to beco legendary walkers over centuries. Seven exist now: The current seven Serpents are Jose from the Maddis Family, Tibris from the Gavenstone Family, Gylan from the Warfield Family, Isaac from the Heart Family, Joshua from the Arcturus Family, Presley from the Harrowmont Family, and Amy from the Thornevale Family. All six Serpent mbers, except for Amy, beca patriarchs more than two centuries ago, holding the highest status in the Empire.” Selene paused for a mont to take a breath and continued.
“Unlike Serpents, Sages are people who contributed to the growth of the Empire through knowledge and other skills. The first Sage is Judith, the vice-president of the Crows Misery; the second Sage is Johnathan, the Alchemy Sage; the third Sage is Annie from the Blackwater Family; the fourth Sage is Derek from the Ravenshield Family; and the fifth Sage is Marcus from the Sterlinghart Family.”
Raven studied Daley from the sofa. “The Findlay family is excluded because of its origin, huh? Not ancient enough.”
Whispers hushed the hall. Silver-armored guards stiffened, hands brushing sword hilts.
[Why provoke a noble child?] Zera warned.
Raven touched his monocle. He’s different.
Daley’s gaze sharpened at him. Raven smiled.
“I apologize for the rudeness. I am Thomas Hols, Young Master.”
Pin-drop silence. Daley blinked twice, then spoke.
“I’m Daley Findlay. Serpents co from ancient families, but Sages like Judith and Johnathan rise through knowledge. We lost before—not privilege, but talent. Our family prepares the best candidate for the Sage competition.”
Raven tilted his head. “The best candidate? You, though, could achieve more than just a title.”
A blonde guard drew her sword. “You bastard—!”
“Maisie, stop.” Daley raised a hand. “I’ve spent five years here. Not even my third spell model is complete. I’ll be expelled this December. Don’t assu I can achieve what I cannot.” His voice carried weariness, not arrogance.
Raven adjusted his monocle. He scanned Daley’s stats:
Daley Findlay – 20
Class: Acolyte Wizard, Second CircleHealth: Abnormal (Curse of Frost)Traits: Calm, noble pride, archeologist, classical knowledge, political acun, horsemanship, musicianSpells: Ice Heart (Unstable), Chill Touch (Unstable)Affinities: Space – Prodigy, Ice – Low
…
Zera’s voice echoed softly in Raven’s mind.
[This young man… bad luck. Prodigy in Spatial, yet the best he’s managed is two unstable Ice spells. Obsessed with Ice, nothing else.]
Raven furrowed his brow, the question forming in his mind. ‘Why does this curse appear in his status? Should I help him?’
Raven decided to give him a push.
“That’s because you haven’t found your hidden talent yet, Young Master Daley,” he said aloud, his tone calm.
‘Zera, tell about curses.’
[They’re spells affecting a person’s body or astral form, permanently or temporarily. Mostly the work of necromancers or Dark Mages. But his… seems like a bloodline curse. Too much condensed Ice elental energy, or so external factor affecting the bloodline, triggered it.]
‘Condensed Ice elental energy?’ Raven frowned.
Daley let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “We’ve tried everything—weekly treatnts by an Expert-rank Alchemist. Every thod failed. My condition only worsens.”
Raven’s eyes narrowed as Zera’s voice flared urgently in his mind.
[That’s it! Pregnant nobles sotis consu magical beast at for a trace of elental energy. Too much? Soul-body link collapses. Baby dies. Common sense says no more than two or three portions a month. And no proof it boosts affinity.]
“Does that an he’s been recklessly consuming elental at or potions?” Raven asked, frowning.
[No. A descendant of a legendary Ice Wizard wouldn’t be naïve. My guesses: one, soone close to him casts bloodline curse spells occasionally. Two, he consus a food or potion affecting his bloodline—perhaps the Alchemist himself is experinting under the guise of treatnt. Ivory Continent Wizards don’t know how to make an affinity potion… but they might have tried.]
Raven’s eyes widened. Ingredients that affect bloodline… Instantly, a ntal list of formulas and reagents appeared.
Wizards study pure magic. No bloodline magic. Warlocks? They devour strong bloodlines, mutate, and gain supernatural traits. Bloodline is crucial for elental affinity.
He recalled Viola Findlay’s descendants—all Ice affinity, all exceptional in Ice magic. She may not have been a Wizard… but a Bloodline Warlock.
Raven’s fingers traced through the records, highlighting all bloodline potion formulas linked to Ice. So amplified the elental surge violently, so awakened the will hidden in the bloodline, and so suppressed dangerous side effects.
Within monts, the solution erged.
Sun Lotus Petals, Lava Essence Crystal, Feather Fla Berry, Sun Heart Herb, Scorching Flower Nectar…
His gaze sharpened. Even if cured, his Ice rank is already low. Nothing will change. But why no Spatial spells? He may not even know his own ranks yet.
Raven leaned closer, voice low but firm, carrying weight beyond explanation. “A piece of advice, Young Master. Discard the coldness in your heart. Seek the right path in the void. When you find it… Co and look for .”
The words settled in Daley’s mind like etched runes, cryptic and magnetic.
Jacob approached, whispering, “You need to see the booking list yourself, My Lord. The cost… too high for a single-storied house.”
Raven inclined his head gracefully. “Excuse my rudeness, Young Master. I will select the room myself.” He bowed elegantly to Daley before turning toward the reception desk.
Chapter 86: Crowns Tavern
Daley sat motionless on the velvet sofa, Raven’s final words echoing through his mind like a curse.
Discard the coldness in your heart… Seek the right path in the void.…
His jaw clenched. The steady hum of the tavern around him faded into silence. “Tell , Maisie,” he said finally, his voice low. “Did he an I have no affinity for Ice?”
Maisie stiffened beside him. Her tone sharpened like cracked glass. “That’s absurd, Young Master. You carry Lady Viola’s blood. What could a random bumpkin possibly know about you?”
She glanced toward the reception desk, where Raven and his companions were speaking with the clerk. Her eyes narrowed, calculation flickering in them.
Daley’s own expression hardened. “Kingston. Find out who that man is. I want every detail before nightfall.”
The guard bowed slightly. “Yes, Young Master.” He turned and walked toward the counter where Raven stood, silent as a shadow.
Daley exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee. “Could it be… I have talent in another elent?” he muttered under his breath. “What did he an by those words?”
Maisie softened her tone, though her gaze stayed sharp. “Don’t let him disturb your heart, Young Master. Your Ice magic is extraordinary—it just hasn’t awakened fully yet.”
Daley shook his head slowly. “If I had access to the royal affinity checker, I’d know for certain. But only the royals can use it.”
He rembered the first ti he had touched a basic affinity orb. The faint blue glow had filled him with pride, enough to choose Ice Wizard Mary as his professor without hesitation. But that glow had been faint—almost trembling. He’d ignored it back then. Now it gnawed at him.
“I heard the royal artifact can only be used a few tis a year,” Maisie added. “That’s why they guard it so tightly.”
Daley’s fists tightened. “Then how did he know about my condition? His words… didn’t sound like a bluff.”
He looked down at his hands—slender fingers marred with faint scars. The hands of soone who had pushed too far, too often. “Even with potions, forcing my spirit power higher before December is suicide. I’ve failed three tis already. My heart barely survived the backlash.”
He rembered the crushing pressure, the blood in his throat, the echoing silence in his chest when his spell models collapsed. Each failure left him colder, hollower.
Find your path in the void…
His eyes widened slightly. “Could he have ant… the Spatial elent?”
In an instant, uncertainty turned to resolve. Daley rose from the sofa, eyes burning with new light. “I’m returning to the academy. I’ll use Professor Mary’s lab and test the other orbs. If I have even a trace of Spatial resonance—I’ll try engraving a spatial spell in my Mind Space.”
Maisie stood up abruptly. “Young Master! You’d risk your entire foundation on the words of a stranger?”
But he didn’t answer. His footsteps were already echoing toward the exit. Determination drowned out fear.
Maisie could only watch as he disappeared through the door, her lips parting in a silent sigh.
…
At the sa ti, Raven stood at the tavern’s reception desk, his gaze steady beneath the soft light of the chandeliers.
The receptionist—a brown-haired woman in her thirties wearing a crisp red dress—smiled politely. “Welco to Crowns Tavern, Sir Thomas. We offer stays ranging from a day to several weeks. Single bedrooms, double bedrooms, resort houses, or multi-storied mansions—each with als and servants according to the package.”
She paused for breath before continuing, “A single bedroom costs two gold coins per day. A double room is five. A resort house, fifteen. Which would you prefer?”
Raven’s expression didn’t change, but his thoughts did. Fifteen gold per day… steep.
“And for a three-storied mansion?” he asked evenly.
Her smile widened. “Fifty gold coins per day. It includes a butler, two maids, two guards, and one hour of daily access to the spirit pool.”
Fifty gold coins… but it’ll get close to Judith.
Feigning mild interest, Raven tapped the counter. “Can I choose which mansion?”
Selene leaned closer, whispering, “Isn’t that too much, My Lord?”
The receptionist blinked at his boldness, then quickly nodded. “Of course. We have fifteen such mansions. Please take a look.” She spread a map across the counter.
“Cara Portrait!” Selene gasped, eyes gleaming.
Raven tilted his head. “Cara what?”
Selene smiled faintly. “A new technique by an alchemist nad Louise. They capture real images using alchemy—etched on silvered copper plates. Nobles collect them like art.”
Raven studied the top-down image. “Taken from the sky?”
“Yes,” the woman said proudly. “A wizard from the Academy assisted.”
He examined the map closely, his eyes landing on a certain mansion at the southern end of Garden Street. “That one—near the Crow’s Misery. I’ll take it.”
The receptionist hesitated. “That mansion belongs to Vice President Judith, Sir. It’s reserved long-term. But the one next to it is vacant.”
Raven’s lips curved faintly. “Perfect.”
He motioned for Jacob, who handed him a pouch. Raven placed two platinum coins on the counter. “Five days.”
The woman bowed deeply. “Understood, Sir Thomas.” She rang a small bell, summoning a young servant. “This is Toby. He’ll be your guide.”
Raven nodded and followed the boy out.
…
The road curved through a quiet stretch of the garden street. Sunlight spilled through high trees, painting shifting shadows across the stone pavent. Lavender and honeysuckle filled the air, soft and sweet.
“So, who owns this place?” Raven asked as they walked.
Selene replied, “Pri Minister Gavin. He struck a deal with the Empire’s Wizards. That’s why the place is filled with protective enchantnts and spirit pools.”
Raven glanced around. Every guard they passed carried an aura, at least at the peak of Radiant Rank. So—he suspected—were Experts pretending to be less.
Soon, they reached a black iron gate adorned with curling vine motifs. The faint glow of runes pulsed beneath its surface.
[The entire mansion is bound within a rune array. No wonder the cost is outrageous.]
‘Protection array?’
[Yes. High-tier. Strong enough to block even Pseudo-Legendary attacks. Staying here is like hiding under a fortress.]
‘Can it block dream spells?’
[Dream power is entirely different and has no way of blocking it using normal rune arrays. But to enter Judith’s dream, you’ll still need a ritual—and timing.]
‘Then this spot is perfect.’
The guards at the gate straightened as they approached. Recognizing Toby, they relaxed and opened the gate.
“Welco, Sir Thomas,” one said with a respectful nod.
Raven offered a brief gesture of acknowledgnt before leading Selene, Stephanie, and Jacob inside.
The garden within was breathtaking—rows of glowing lilies, marble fountains, and a winding path leading to the mansion’s doors.
An elderly butler greeted them as the doors swung open. His silver hair glead under the chandelier’s light. “Welco, Sir Thomas. I am Harold, your assigned butler. Allow to show you around.”
The interior glead with polished wood and golden chandeliers. Paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes of old empires and forgotten wars.
Harold spoke with calm precision. “The dining room lies to your left, the lounge to your right. Upstairs, you’ll find your study, library, and ditation room. The third floor holds your private chambers.”
Raven nodded as they moved through the hall.
“If you wish to use the spirit pool,” Harold added, “I’ll handle the preparations personally.”
Raven paused, thoughtful. “I’ll tour later. For now, prepare a carriage. I’ll visit the Wizards Guild within the hour.”
“As you wish, Sir. Would you like a guide to accompany you through the Royal City?”
“I’ll decide soon.” Raven’s gaze drifted to the mansion across the street. “Vice President Judith lives there, yes?”
Harold inclined his head apologetically. “Indeed, but she only returns on Sundays. And even the royals must request an invitation to et her.”
Sunday… that’s two days away.
Raven’s fingers brushed his chin. “Understood. Arrange the rooms for my companions.”
Once alone, he turned to Selene. “Follow .”
He stopped before a guest room, opened it, and said, “Enter after thirty seconds.” Then he stepped inside and shut the door.
Selene blinked, confused. Thirty seconds?
When she entered, Raven was sitting on the bed, removing his shoes. The room around him glowed with quiet luxury—crimson carpets, silk curtains, and furniture carved from whitewood.
Her eyes widened.
‘This looks like my academy dormitory…’
“My Lord,” she said softly. “Do you need assistance?”
Raven didn’t answer at first. “I want to test a few things,” he said finally—and vanished.
Selene froze. The air rippled faintly, and a second later, the door clicked open again. Raven walked in from the hall.
Her pulse quickened. “M-My Lord? You just ca from outside—how?” She unleashed her spirit sense—no illusion.
He sat back down, murmuring to himself. “Spell duration: thirty seconds. Cooldown, five minutes. But it’s not fully integrated yet…”
The door creaked again. Selene’s breath caught.
Raven was no longer on the bed. He stood by the window, watching her with quiet amusent.
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