Rain hamred down in torrents, lashing violently against the cold crystal walls of the Greenlight Tower. Inside, in the luxurious private chambers of Verdant Wrath—Eugene Moyad—the storm’s fury was muted, broken only by the dull thuds of raindrops striking the glass.
The Chief Magus, clad in golden-green robes, was deep in ditation. To most magi worldwide, mana ca from modifications—chanical, biochemical, and so forth—rendering ditation an outdated, almost primitive practice.
But at higher levels, magi ca to realize how crucial ntal strength was to magic. And aside from sleep, ditation remained the only ans to enhance it—far more efficient by comparison.
Monts later, with a faint whoosh, a holo-image of Imogen lit up, breaking the silence.
Eugene did not imdiately end his ditation. Only the faintest twitch stirred his brow. Imogen didn’t mind—he briefly explained the situation, then waited quietly for a response.
After all, a sixth-tier magus was the pinnacle of personal power in any faction. Even a super-corporation chairman had to tolerate a little discourtesy.
“What level is the opponent?” Eugene asked at last, eyes opening lazily.
“A master of Light-and-Shadow Magic. Estimated fifth-tier. Be careful—don’t let them escape. We need them alive,” Imogen said.
“Light-and-Shadow Magic? Now that’s interesting.” Eugene rose, a smile curling his lips. He relished challenging tasks. Light-and-Shadow Magic, one of the five enigmatic conceptual magics, was not powerful in raw combat but notoriously elusive.
For a sixth-tier master of Nature Magic, the chance to confront such a foe promised at least so amusent.
Receiving the coordinates, Eugene did not take the lift. Instead, he walked to the vast floor-to-ceiling window. His gaze pierced the storm, and a thick vine, glossy with dew, silently sprouted at his feet, coiling around his ankle to lift him aloft.
The vine stretched upward, weaving swiftly into a broad green disk above him—like a living umbrella, shielding him from the downpour.
Carrying its caster, the vine extended from the tower hundreds of ters high, drifting toward the dimly lit circular project building. Through a sequence of “aerial relays” between plants, Eugene was smoothly delivered to the guard booth at the building’s entrance.
His polished shoes had barely touched the slick pavent when he felt it—a presence. He turned, spotting a shadow creeping from the darkness near the drowsy guard post.
He smiled faintly, lifted his right hand, and snapped his fingers. The sharp crack cut cleanly through the rain.
Instantly, soil on both sides of the road boiled. Countless thick, thorn-studded vines erupted, coiling tightly around the moving shadow. In just a few breaths, a living Erald Cage had sprung into existence.
“Tut tut. Tough luck, little mouse.” Eugene approached with an amiable smile, the green umbrella still keeping him bone-dry.
He stood in the storm as if beneath a pavilion, grinning at the prisoner. “Surprised?”
Within the verdant cage, a figure in a black raincoat took form under the pressure—drenched in ominous shadow, features hidden, body small and slight.
Silence lingered for several breaths, then a genderless voice spoke: “Verdant Wrath, Eugene Moyad?”
“Since you know who I am, I expect you to behave. Don’t disturb my rest—it’s already late,” Eugene replied, still smiling. “Let guess… Neon Dream? A rat from the Resistance? Or perhaps the intel arm of the Future Coalition or New Eden?”
He wasn’t worried. Light-and-Shadow Magic excelled at evasion, not combat, while he specialized in direct battle.
An assassin thrown into an arena with a warrior—the outco was preordained.
“So it’s true. This place really is hiding sothing. Why else would the Chief Magus be dragged out at night?” The raincoated voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
“You won’t get to talk.” Eugene chuckled. “I don’t care about any of that. I’m just here to take you in.”
More vines burst from the earth. “So, do I bind you first, or will you wear the Antimancy Cuffs and co quietly? Judging by that fra… a woman? If I have to choose the forr, don’t expect to be gentle.”
“You really don’t know anything?” the figure asked, as if making a final check.
Eugene’s smile faltered. The intruder’s calm unsettled him. Experience told him—such composure ant a hidden trump card.
His brow lifted slightly. Let’s see what trick this thief has, to think they can break free from my Erald Cage.
Sure enough, the black-clad figure’s Rune Circle flared. Yet the spell unleashed was not Light-and-Shadow Magic at all—but Fire Magic.
BOOM!
Despite the storm, crimson flas erupted like a volcano, roaring from within the cage. Heat clashed with rain, exploding into a towering plu of steam. In just one breath, the lush cage burned to ash, replaced by an infernal blaze raging defiantly beneath the downpour.
Scorching waves smashed against Eugene. His mana barrier flickered violently.
He leapt back dozens of ters, retreating into the rain. His once-elegant robes were drenched, hair plastered to his face—his composed air gone.
Shock rippled through him. The thief, a master of Light-and-Shadow Magic, was also a formidable fire mage.
And as the foremost master of Nature Magic, Eugene dreaded one matchup above all—Fire.
Fifth-tier? Sixth-tier?
But no—none of the fire mages he knew had Light-and-Shadow skills. And why would they be here?
Staring at the ruins of his cage, a thunderous na struck his mind. He gasped: “You’re… Naless?!”
Yes. After a mont’s thought, it was obvious. The battle of Naless against the Soulfla Pontiff had gone viral worldwide. Billions had seen it. She wielded Fire and Lightning Magic, dabbled in Necromancy—a rare, multi-domain genius.
If there was one fire mage he didn’t fully know, it was her.
And aside from her beauty, speculations pegged her physique at about 1.65 ters—a match for the small figure before him.
The shadowy figure didn’t answer. After burning through the Erald Cage, she lted back into darkness, clearly intent on slipping away before Lingman’s ard forces arrived.
But Eugene was exhilarated, even giddy. He’d long been curious about the mysterious Naless. Now he had the chance. Compared to this duel, Imogen’s orders seed trivial.
“Hah! Don’t think you’ll escape!” He laughed coldly. Leaves swirled, forming the Leaf-Vein Armor over his body—an aegis built for elental bombardnt.
He dashed after her on a vine, hurling Nature Magic attacks as he pursued relentlessly.
For minutes the chase dragged on. Finally, as if weary of pursuit, the shadowed mage turned and unleashed a thick, searing fire mist.
Eugene scoffed. His armor was impregnable; this was nothing. Confident, he surged forward, plunging headlong into the crimson fog.
The instant he entered, unseen blows rained down like a storm. Colossal impacts shattered his barrier and ripped apart the Leaf-Vein Armor.
With a cry, he crashed to the ground like a cut kite.
A minute later, when swarms of shuttles and ard craft arrived, the intruder was gone. The Security Corps Commander found only Eugene, the once-imposing Chief Magus, kneeling in the mud, terror plain on his face—a fear never seen before.
Fifteen minutes later, in a neon-lit back alley several blocks from the Greenlight Tower, shadows stirred and Yvette’s form rose silently from the darkness. Rain slid off her slick raincoat, leaving no trace.
After her Second Evolution, her Tendrils had gained imnse offensive power. She hadn’t used them until now. Against the fad sixth-tier Verdant Wrath, she finally indulged.
The result was devastating. Dozens of Tendrils striking at once drained much of her Aberrant Mana, but shattered his defenses and left him too shaken to give chase.
She lifted her head. From the shadows, her gaze pierced the rain, past neon signs at the alley’s mouth, fixing on the towering Greenlight Tower blazing in the distance.
She had planned to leave and regroup. But now, she realized—this was the perfect chance.
Verdant Wrath was wounded. The Ard Division was hunting her in the streets. That ant the Tower itself must be vulnerable.
She had burned plenty of mana—but Aberrant Mana still backed her. If she struck now, she could double back and infiltrate Lingman HQ. Even a handful of stolen cutting-edge Nature Magic secrets would make the risk worthwhile.
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