With a soft ball of sky-blue mana as lighting, Adam glanced at the portrait of the charming author—especially on the golden coat of arms emblazoned on his chest. It resembled an aquamarine-scaled creature, as long as the Jin Long sect’s guardian, coiled around a crown of pink mana. But that alone caused his brow to furrow.
How could a magical beast from the cultivation realm be featured as the coat of arms of an ancient mage house? Sohow, it felt wrong for many reasons, the first being the ssage of hope left by the very author, who called this realm foreign.
He had begun to consider whether mages had lived in hiding for millennia or whether their discipline only gained prominence around fifteen thousand years ago. Yet, he could tell the blond man had been a powerful archmage.
His eyes narrowed on the pink jewel crowning the cane. ’A tier eight gem, refined and enchanted as well as I can...’ He sighed through his twisted lips. ’That’s not true. It’s better than anything I can currently do. That man should have been a magus.’
He scratched his head. ’Where did he—do they all co from? The magi of the magic world have reigned for millennia, so they must be from another world, one I don’t know...’
With a deep exhale, he shook his head. Overthinking without even the first piece to complete the puzzle was ti wasted. Hopefully, he’ll find his first lead—and learn when the man lived—inside the grimoire.
Skipping the ssage, he reached the Author’s story. Unlike Pablo’s, words snaked on five pages for this one, which was understandable, as the grimoire was the key to resurrecting House Reverie’s legacy.
Words ca to life under the flickering mana, recounting a long forgotten story; a story that wasn’t ant to be learned; the story of Alistair Reverie.
"Dearest descendants, I’m elated that at least one of you awakened his bloodline. You are now the head and hope of House Reverie. But first, you must understand who we are and where all mages co from."
Adam’s eyes sparkled. He would finally know!
"We co from sowhere else—a different world, where mana breathes and magic sings louder than the sea’s tides. I can’t tell you why or how we ca to this realm. This knowledge is too dangerous. But know this: we fled like cowards."
Adam’s eyes narrowed into slits as the ink thickened on the page, reflecting Alistair’s fury
"The invader commanded an army but was far weaker than our archipelago. Four houses would have sufficed to obliterate him. And yet, you read that right. Reverie, Virelion, Tharavos, Myrrowind, Mortis, Dreadmarche, and Caelmorne, all seven great houses fled without fighting. The reason eludes to this day, and I’ll probably never learn it. However, I won’t forget, won’t forgive, the council’s decision."
The council again! And those discoveries... If Alistair was truly a magus, did each house have one at its helm? Who was powerful enough to enforce his decisions on such powerhouses?
Intrigued, he continued to read.
"Aside from the seven great houses, minor ones and the wisest scholars of the college also had seats... the most influential ones. Our leader, the college’s rector, surpassed anything humans have ever achieved on the magical path. Adding his Virelion’s origins to his achievents, he convinced most to abandon our ancestral hos. Only Reverie and Caelmorne voiced their objections. One disappeared, and we are dood to follow... like all the others."
"Perhaps House Virelion will be the only remaining one by the ti you awaken your talent. Not that it matters. Be it the rector’s power struggle, sche, or stupidity, I’ll invest every second of my ti to ensure Reverie’s eternal legacy survives through you."
Shadows danced on Adam’s face as he bit his lip. The power structure was too familiar to throw him off. No, what forced a painful gulp down his throat and his hair to bristle was the rector’s description.
’Surpass anything humans ever achieved.’ The night seed to grow colder. ’A supre sorcerer...’
If it was true, the place Alistair had co from was far more terrifying than the magic world he had lived in. 1It also answered one of his major questions. The archipelago secured a footing in this realm under that rector’s protection. Wait... it also ant four tier nine beings lurked in the cultivation realm.
"Perhaps more," he whispered, his voice barely audible. For a few monts, he lingered, finding comfort in Misha’s warm hand, steady breathing, and peaceful sleeping face.
Then he sighed, the rustle of the turning page disturbing the room’s calm.
"Engrave this warning into your very soul, dear descendant. We, of the Reverie house, have the most uncommon affinity. It only ever appeared in our bloodline and to a few chosen ones: we interpret and weave dreams into reality. No one ever matched our seers or spell designers. That’s why I’ve forcefully put all my descendants’ magic circuits into a slumbering state while dreaming they had dan tians."
"Without mana, survival promised to be a daunting challenge, but I knew you would pull through. As for why... The rector’s madness intensifies with each passing day. He’s expelling nobles faster than he speaks, placing a blood tracking spell on them while calling them rogues. The implications are far worse than exile. I suspect he would know anyone related to the banished until their bloodlines fade. Our legacy is one of the most powerful, yet without resources and guides, you’ll stagnate for centuries to attain diocrity."
Adam paused to imagine the young Qing beginning her magical journey. No wealth, support, or knowledge, hunted by any cultivator she t for what she was. diocrity seed overly positive for soone in her situation.
"You must seek shelter in the archipelago. Use their resources. Learn the new thods they invent daily. But do not trust them; take what you need, laugh at their jokes and smile at their insults, then leave when you grow powerful enough. I’ve cleared a path for you. The guardian owes for helping her reckless son during a tempest. Sail to the middle of the Western sea. She’ll smuggle you in and provide you with a fake identity."
He still doesn’t know the world changed...
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