After hearing Marcus out, Zayne fell silent.
Party grinding had hard limits. The level gap between the highest and lowest mbers could not exceed ten levels. On top of that, experience from monster kills was distributed based on contribution, with a minimum of one point.
Raising a Forbidden Spellcaster ant carrying them through levels without letting them cast Forbidden Spells. If they could not use Forbidden Spells, then all a Forbidden Spellcaster could do was swing a blade or poke around with a sword. In that situation, their contribution was negligible, and the experience they received was almost nothing.
The manpower, resources, and money required to raise a Forbidden Spellcaster to level ninety were enough to train hundreds of Transcenders to the sa level.
That was exactly why no one wanted to cultivate Forbidden Spellcasters.
Major factions looked down on it. They had no interest in a losing investnt. Minor factions coveted the power but simply could not afford the cost.
Marcus’ intent was obvious. If Zayne served Bitnoris, Bitnoris would fund his growth and treat him as a strategic weapon. He would be a living warhead.
If the demon race ever launched a full scale invasion, that would be the day Zayne burned his life away for Bitnoris.
If Zayne were just an ordinary Forbidden Spellcaster, he would have accepted without hesitation. Bitnoris had the money, the resources, and the influence.
Unfortunately, Zayne also possessed immortality.
Staying in Bitnoris would never let him level as fast as grinding on his own.
"Lord Marcus, I would like to agree, but I need to ask my teacher first."
To avoid raising suspicion, Zayne had no choice but to invoke his convenient ntor.
"Your teacher?" Marcus was visibly surprised. "Who would take a Forbidden Spellcaster as a disciple?"
"Astrachior."
"Oh. Astrachior."
Marcus narrowed his eyes, a sharp glint flashing within them.
"Has Astrachior foreseen sothing already? Very well. When you return to Old Shipyard Port, I will go with you. I will speak to Astrachior personally."
He sighed softly.
"After the last major repulsion of the demon race, peace barely lasted a century. Now they are stirring again. The storm is coming."
Marcus opened his mouth as if to say more, but his gaze suddenly turned sharp as he looked toward the door.
Zayne followed his eyes. Soone was outside.
Knock knock knock.
The door was knocked.
"Mr. Zayne, hello. I am hotel staff. I brought you so fruit to help you calm down."
A sweet female voice sounded from outside.
At Marcus’ signal, Zayne walked over and opened the door.
Standing outside was a woman in a maid outfit. She wore cat ears and black stockings, carrying a fruit platter. She looked cute and inviting.
"Hello, sir. May I co in?"
Her breath was soft and fragrant. Her gaze practically clung to him. Zayne had no doubt she was deliberately putting on a show.
Years spent in the slums told Zayne exactly what this was. If he let her inside, he would be walking straight into a honey trap.
But Marcus was in the room.
So Zayne was not afraid at all. He stepped aside.
"Sure. Co in."
"Thank you."
She stepped inside on slender heels and thoughtfully closed the door behind her. As she brushed past him, a faint perfu slipped into Zayne’s nose.
She bent down to place the fruit platter on the table. In that mont, her short maid skirt failed completely, revealing far too much.
She acted as if she did not notice. She even adjusted the platter slowly, clearly giving him ti to look.
Zayne found the behavior deeply unpleasant. He stared with pure disdain.
"All right. Mr. Zayne, please co enjoy the fruit."
Her voice was gentle and inviting.
Zayne did not refuse. He walked over and sat down. He had planned to eat, but the poisoning thod was insultingly crude.
"The dicine sll alone is bad enough. What is worse is that the powder is not even mixed evenly. Do you have no sha at all?"
Even an idiot would not eat this.
The woman’s expression flickered.
"Sir, what are you talking about? That is just powdered sugar."
"Stay away from . Hard pass."
As she moved closer, Zayne shoved her back.
"If you are not going to play along, then you can die."
She shouted sharply. A dagger flashed toward Zayne’s heart with terrifying speed.
A faint purple glow coated the blade. It was clearly poisoned.
Only then did Zayne realize she was an assassin Transcender above level fifty.
Garen had spared no expense this ti.
If Zayne were alone, even if he won, it would be a brutal fight.
Unfortunately for her, today was not his turn to act.
Before the dagger could reach him, a large hand clamped down on her wrist like a vise.
Marcus stepped forward, his expression icy.
"Who sent you."
His voice was cold enough to freeze blood.
"L Lord Marcus?"
She had been impatient a mont ago, but once she saw his face, all color drained from her skin.
Marcus.
The strongest man in Bitnoris.
Why was he in Zayne’s room?
When Garen hired her to assassinate a champion, she had been reluctant. The risk was enormous. But the price was too tempting.
If she had known Marcus would be here, no amount of money would have mattered. Even if Garen called her mother, she would not have agreed.
Her face turned ashen.
She knew what it ant to be caught by Marcus. Death would be rcy. Survival would be worse.
"Do not make ask a third ti. Who sent you."
Marcus’ voice grew colder.
Her face twisted with struggle.
Speak, and offend the Owens family. Stay silent, and offend the Lord of Bitnoris.
Either way led to death.
Her eyes hardened. She twisted her body at an unnatural angle and drove herself onto the poisoned dagger.
Marcus was a good man. Offending him would not harm her family.
But offending the Owens family could wipe them all out.
So the best choice was to die here, in front of Marcus. Dead people owed nothing.
As for whether Marcus could trace who was behind her, that was his problem.
Good people were always the ones forced to stare down the barrel.
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