I reign supreme in the Western fantasy world for eternity.

The Viscountess's comb stopped in mid-air, a few strands of golden hair slipping from between the teeth.

She turned her head, staring at her husband's face, trying to find any trace of a joke. "What do you mean by 'Pompeii collar' should be renamed 'Jack collar'? How many drinks did you have tonight?"

The viscount took her hand and pulled her to his side.

He recounted in detail how the crystal ball was shattered: from Ji Tian's request to be tested, to the crystal ball exploding into pieces, and then to his own admission that he was at least a legendary mage.

"What do you mean that six years ago you were just an ordinary child who couldn't even do magic, and now you're at least a legendary mage?!" Her voice rose involuntarily, then quickly fell back down, as if afraid someone might overhear.

She pondered for a moment, then gripped her husband's sleeve with a hint of worry. "My lord, do you think he might be one of those... ageless monsters? Someone who's lived for over a hundred years and is deliberately pretending to be a young man to deceive Elena?"

The viscount shook his head.

"No. His eyes don't lie; the way he looks at Elena is different from how he looks at anyone else."

Moreover, with his strength, as long as they weren't demons, marrying not only the daughter of a viscount, but also all the daughters of the great noble families in the entire capital wouldn't be a problem.

"What about Elena? We only have this one child."

The Viscount closed his eyes. "Elena will make her own decisions about what to do. All we can do is not cause her any trouble."

The Viscountess remained silent for a long time, then sighed, "Well... Jack's territory it is then, as long as my daughter is happy."

The viscount gently put his arm around her shoulder from behind, and the two of them looked out the window at the moon that was gradually sinking in the west, neither of them saying another word.

……

The crystal chandelier was still lit in the study at the Prime Minister's estate.

The banquet was over, and Augustus was sitting behind his desk, writing something. The official documents in front of him were open, and the ink was not yet dry.

Albert stood by the window, his back to his father, gazing at the courtyard bathed in moonlight. "Father, it's been several days now, and the 'Thousand-Faced Apostle' that devoured Edmund hasn't made a sound."

Augustus paused, holding the pen, and blew on the ink.

Albert walked back to his desk, resting his hands on the edge. "Father, could he be getting carried away with his act? He's swallowed up an introverted student and now he actually sees himself as one? Forgot what he's here to be?"

Augustus raised his eyes and looked at his second son.

Albert looks a lot like he did when he was young: blond hair and blue eyes, even the vertical line between his eyebrows when he frowns is exactly the same.

But Augustus knew that his son's temperament was far less composed than his own had been.

He was too impatient; he always wanted to prove something to his father.

Augustus took a secret report from the drawer and pushed it across the table.

Albert looked down and saw only one line of text, without a signature or date.

"The Thousand-Faced Apostle is suspected of being replaced by an outsider, causing turmoil within the cult, and the whereabouts of many apostles are unknown."

Albert exclaimed in astonishment, "This is...!"

Augustus leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "The information came from my informants within the Order."

Albert looked up. "Missing? Unknown whereabouts? Father, could it be..."

"Are you suggesting that someone beat them to it and wiped out the cult?" Augustus shook his head. "Impossible. The church hasn't made any large-scale mobilizations, the academy is operating as usual, and the royal family is observing. No one has taken any action."

"How could the apostle have gone missing?"

Augustus smiled upon hearing this and said:

"That's precisely why I ordered a standstill. If the Thousand-Faced Apostle really goes missing, the Forbidden Library project will naturally fall through. The Order won't get the forbidden arts, and it won't be us who suffer. On the contrary—if someone is dealing with the Order for us, why should we get involved?"

Albert frowned. "But what about our agreement with the Order..."

Augustus sneered. "An agreement? What agreement? It was just a delaying tactic. They thought I'd join them; I was merely using them to deal with William. Now that William is down, what's the point of keeping the Order around?"

Albert fell silent.

He recalled his father's speech at the dinner party, the flowery words about the "new era," and the impassioned speech on the enclosure bill, which stirred the hearts of the audience.

Is there some conspiracy or fraud hidden behind this?

"Alas, I am indeed unfit to inherit the title." Albert sighed inwardly, then asked:

"So... we're just going to wait like this?"

Prime Minister Augustus nodded. "Wait and see who will be cleaning house for us."

Albert bowed slightly. "I understand. I'll go and rest now."

Augustus's tone carried a hint of weariness, "I will communicate with the Academy and send strong individuals to protect you secretly, but you must also be wary of those around you, especially the newcomers. If the Order's apostles can impersonate Edmund, they can impersonate anyone. You are my son, and you could also be their target."

Albert nodded and went out the door.

……

The bells of the Royal Cathedral have long since fallen silent.

Cardinal Valentine entered the church's secret reporting room, his fingers tracing the golden emblem on his chest.

"My lord, the Shadow Nail has been spotted." The steward's voice came from behind.

"Let him in."

The footsteps were silent.

"Shadownail" emerged from the shadows, his hood covering most of his face, revealing only a pale chin.

He knelt on one knee, his right fist pressed against his left chest.

"grown ups."

Valentine waved for him to sit down, then sat down opposite him. Without exchanging pleasantries, he went straight to the point: "I'm asking you, are you certain that the people who intercepted you in the northern suburbs of the capital that night were sent by the Academy?"

Shadownail recalled the oppressive feeling he had from that figure in white.

He nodded. "Yes, at least that's my assumption."

Valentine frowned. "A deduction?"

"He didn't reveal his identity, yet he was able to pinpoint my location and cut off my escape route with a single strike. This fighting style doesn't seem like something royalty or the military would produce; only academies could train such research-oriented powerhouses."

Valentine nodded thoughtfully, then laughed in exasperation.

"Theodore... what a Theodore!"

That old geezer, at the dinner party he was putting on an act with me, saying 'the academy knows nothing about this matter,' he certainly knew how convincingly he was putting on a show!

He stood up and paced back and forth in the briefing hall. "The Thousand-Faced Apostle disappeared without a trace, and the Demon Sword Apostle, the Illusion Apostle, and the Slaughter Apostle have all gone missing one after another... The Church has been planning this for three years and hasn't even made a move yet, but his academy has quietly wiped them all out. Now they're playing innocent, saying 'we didn't do it'?"

"Shadownail" had never seen such a scene before, and he lowered his head, not daring to say a word.

……

The top floor of the magic tower at the Royal Capital Magic Academy.

Vice Dean Theodore Sterling sat at the head of the long table, flanked by four archmages dressed in dark blue professor's robes.

Apart from the archmage of the forbidden library who needed to be on duty, the archmages of the Royal Capital Magic Academy all put down their work or rest and gathered together.

The crystal chandeliers illuminated the conference room brightly, but the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive.

Theodore's gaze swept over everyone. "I'll ask you one more time. Has any of you done anything 'big' lately? Or have you noticed anything unusual?"

silence.

An elderly professor with white hair and beard on the left shook his head. "Vice Dean, I've been researching the theory of spatial folding lately, and I haven't even left the lab."

"I'm in charge of teaching supervision at the School of Foreign Languages, and everything is normal," another female vice dean chimed in.

"I was guiding students in writing their graduation theses and didn't find anything unusual."

"You know I've been staying in the magic tower researching magic. As for the one in the forbidden library, I suppose he is too."

After hearing the last answer, Theodore remained silent for a moment, leaned back in his chair, and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

"So, you mean we did nothing wrong, yet we were framed by the cardinals of the Church? Valentine even said at the banquet, 'Thank you for helping the Church eliminate heresy. Should I help you apply to the Pope for the title of 'honorary bishop'?"

Everyone looked at each other.

The old professor tentatively asked, "Vice Dean, could it be...that person?"

"Who is it?"

"Dean."

The old professor coughed lightly. "Although the Dean is rarely at the academy, he does possess legendary-level strength. It's not impossible that he might have been passing through the capital and dealt with a few cultists on the side."

Theodore did not answer immediately.

He recalled that the last time the dean appeared at the academy was three years ago.

The old man, dressed in a faded gray robe, said something like, "Children, I have discovered the true essence of spatial magic!"

Then it vanished into thin air and never returned.

"That old man..." Theodore rubbed his temples and gave a wry smile, "It's the kind of thing he'd do. He kills and doesn't care about the burial, he runs away after he's done, without even saying goodbye."

Everyone fell silent.

Theodore stood up. "Alright, meeting adjourned. That's the end of this matter. Don't spread it around."

The archmages all rose and left.

Theodore stood alone by the window, gazing at the capital city in the twilight.

"The dean...?"