Genius Warlock

In a vast research laboratory established by the Life School Faction in Lake Village,

In a certain section, space became distorted as if bending through the refraction of light, and shortly thereafter, a portal manifested as the space was torn asunder.

A man emerged from the ruptured portal. It was Theodore Brant, the Grand Master of the Life School Faction.

His appearance seemed only half of his actual age, as he had utilized his abilities to present himself as at least a decade younger during combat. The moment his feet made contact with the ground upon emerging from the portal, the repercussions followed.

"Ugh…!"

Theodore wavered, experiencing dizziness as he sensed his strength ebbing away from his entire body.

Such an outcome was to be expected.

He had barely sustained his youthful state; to amplify this while participating in a fierce battle… It would be more astonishing if there were no consequences.

"Test Subject 162 was stronger than I thought. The burden was even greater after dealing with Philip and Tilda… Damn it."

Theodore gazed at his own hand, which had undergone rapid aging, with its skin sagging and wrinkling like that of an elderly man. It was a disconcerting transformation.

"Master, are you alright?!" Finn Russo, Theodore's experimental subject and disciple, provided support and inquired.

Without delay, Finn produced medicinal remedies designed to restore the substantial energy required for maintaining youth: life force concentrate, a specially blended potion, and high-calorie pills. Theodore ingested them all in one swift motion, replenishing his drained energy and regaining his physiological vitality.

"The efficiency is declining."

Theodore observed his hand, pondering its condition. Despite their endeavors, the technology for rejuvenation and youth preservation remained as unstable as a structure built upon shifting sands.

The technique itself was intricate, costly, and yet lacked enduring effectiveness, necessitating constant upkeep.

As time passed, the ratio of effort to reward declined.

It was as though aging and mortality were inevitable, regardless of his actions. Sensing the inexorable grasp of death, Theodore felt an absolute dread.

Ultimately, death was more terrifying than anything else.

But Theodore reassured himself.

He had discovered a means of evading this absolute, inescapable curse. This was a providential opportunity, a testament to his chosen status.

"Master… Are you alright?"

Finn Russo inquired once more, perturbed by Theodore's unusual reaction.

"I'm fine… Did you confirm it?"

"Yes."

A third voice interjected, a voice familiar to his ears.

It was his sole grandson, Carl.

"Carl…"

"Grandfather."

Carl offered a respectful bow, a marked departure from his usual overconfident demeanor.

However, it was unsurprising, as his conceit had its origins in his grandfather's teachings.

"So, Carl… Is it him?"

"Yes, grandfather. Kevin's personal staff Zenon is the Solver Dave we were trying to capture. I have confirmed it."

Theodore nodded with determination, his lips firmly sealed. He felt content. Yet, a question emerged.

"But why didn't you capture him?"

In response to Theodore's query, Carl hesitated, an uncommon occurrence for someone of his age.

Carl had also made attempts to ensnare the target, Dave, leveraging the latter's laid-back disposition to draw him into a favorable situation.

However, Dave exhibited extraordinary mana manipulation, even wresting control of Carl's own mana, elevating the entire basement to the surface in a remarkable display. Thus, the plan had faltered.

Despite unleashing [Thunderbolt] with all his might, Dave effortlessly deflected it and closed the distance.

"You stopped it? And easily at that?"

"Yes… I apologize."

Carl couldn't meet his grandfather's gaze as he offered his apology. He had let down his grandfather.

"…No, it's okay. You're not yet in a state of perfect fusion. It can't be helped if the precision of your skills is lacking."

Theodore consoled him, not wanting to dampen spirits before an important mission.

"It's my fault, Master. Not the Young Master's."

As the atmosphere grew weighty, Finn Russo, who had stood like a privacy screen beside them, spoke up.

"I took the initiative to retreat with the Young Master, despite his willingness to continue the battle. So it's my fault."

This was true as well.

When Carl unleashed [Thunderbolt], Oliver discarded his tonfa and wielded a quarterstaff to effortlessly deflect the dark lightning, closing the gap.

Perceiving the unusual intensity, Russo intervened, opened a portal, and withdrew with Carl.

"What do you mean, the atmosphere was unusual?"

"It felt… emotionally charged, unlike how he normally is according to our reports. So I decided it was better to withdraw than to clash needlessly. I apologize, Master."

Russo willingly assumed the responsibility, driven by his desire to safeguard Carl to that extent.

Theodore affirmed, "Good. We don't need any extra variables. That's also why I didn't kill Test Subject 162. What's important is that we know his true nature… We'll proceed according to plan. Carl, are you ready?"

"You're starting already?"

Carl inquired cautiously, harboring trepidation.

"Of course, we've gathered enough materials, and the situation is already escalating. We can't keep dragging this out. Do you have a problem?"

Carl sealed his lips and shook his head.

His grandfather's reasoning was sound, and for Carl, who had grown up under his grandfather's guidance, there was never really a choice.

A fusion of coercion and willingness led Carl to nod, and Theodore, as if anticipating this moment, guided him to a specific location.

During their journey, they encountered devoted wizards from the School of Life Magic.

They came to a halt.

Theodore, Carl, and Russo stood before a door.

A formidable iron door exuded a foreboding aura.

Gulp.

Whether due to the ominous ambiance or the impending ritual, Carl swallowed nervously.

However, Theodore unhesitatingly opened the door.

Screeeech.

As the substantial iron door swung open, a vast chamber unfolded before them.

Within it, numerous wizards, easily exceeding a hundred, were bound along the walls.

Like livestock in a slaughterhouse.

They were all immobilized, their freedom stripped away through blood magic. It was an unsettling spectacle.

When would one ever witness wizards suspended like livestock again?

Nonetheless, they weren't the central focus of this endeavor.

The true centerpiece was a few droplets of blood suspended within a large test tube at the room's center.

Theodore approached the substantial test tube housing the blood, laying his hand upon it. With eyes filled with a blend of reverence and avarice, he addressed Carl, "Use the materials here to fully absorb this blood. Become a complete being. For us."

***contemporary romance

"So you're saying that the Life School faction did all this to secure materials for some purpose? Preparing for some sort of apocalypse?"

"That's what I believe," Oliver responded, recounting what had transpired in the basement to Yareli.

"Any idea what it is?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't know," Oliver replied to Philip's query.

The fact that the invited guests were abducted for a specific reason was evident, yet Oliver remained unaware of its nature.

He could have ascertained the details from the master of the Blood Magic school sub-faction, had Carl not intervened to thwart it.

"Carl…"

"What's this apocalypse you're talking about?" Terence, who was standing next to him, interrupted to ask. Oliver answered, "I don't know in detail. I've only heard it mentioned a few times during my work as a Solver. The Life School Faction talks about the world undergoing a significant change, so I asked just in case."

"We've heard similar stories," Philip said, stroking his full beard. "Theodore called Tilda and me and said the world would soon undergo a significant change. He told us to join his side, saying that only the chosen would survive in the chaos. He promised youth and eternal life."

"Youth is one thing, but eternal life? Even for Theodore, is such a thing possible?"

"I agree, Captain Kevin. But we shouldn't completely dismiss it. Theodore is not the type to bluff about such things."

Kevin found himself without a counterargument. Despite personal sentiments and opinions regarding Theodore, it remained undeniable that he was an exceptional wizard who took great pride in his abilities.

While he might occasionally embellish, he was not inclined to fabricate things he lacked.

"I somehow feel this is related…" Philip speculated, relying more on intuition than rigid deduction.

Nonetheless, intuitions sometimes proved remarkably accurate. No one challenged Philip's conjecture.

Eternal life represented the ultimate aspiration pursued by the Life School Faction.

However, a lingering puzzle remained.

"It may be related, but it's probably not just for eternal life," Kevin asserted confidently.

"Why is that?"

"Immortality is indeed an incredible achievement, but even so, this kind of behavior is unacceptable. The acts the School of Life Magic has committed can only be justified if they are prepared to either collapse or consume the Magic Tower themselves," Kevin explained.

The point he made was valid. Indeed, this was the motive behind their efforts to sway Philip and Tilda.

"What they ultimately need for that is power. Without power, neither negotiations nor schemes can be established."

"So you're saying that Theodore is preparing to enhance his power?"

"Yes. Of course, it may be related to immortality, but power is definitely a factor… at least to the extent that he could face my master."

Kevin was referring to none other than Archiver Merlin, the recipient of a millennium's worth of knowledge and generally recognized as the most exceptional wizard of his era.

If Theodore had amassed the strength to confront such a wizard… then his audacious conduct held a degree of rationale.

This remained speculative, but…

Listening attentively, Tilda interjected. Her voice, though not loud, commanded everyone's focus with its distinct icy undertone.

"We all have good theories, but we need to decide on something else first."

All eyes turned to her. As she held their attention, Tilda continued.

"We need to decide whether to fight Theodore here or to retreat."

Indeed, this was a pertinent consideration.

While comprehending the adversary's circumstances and intentions held importance, an even more critical aspect was formulating their own course of action.

"As you can all see, the situation is not good. The mist surrounds this place, making it difficult to even assess the damage, and we are outnumbered, with most of us not in good condition."

None could dispute this assessment.

Philip had lost an arm, while Kevin and Terence had depleted their mana reserves, necessitating rest and recovery. Battle injuries were an additional concern. Yareli and Tilda were among the few in better shape, alongside the rescued wizards, yet even they were fatigued.

Could they stand against Theodore and the wizards from the School of Life Magic with such a depleted force? Logically, their chances appeared slim.

Yet, Philip held a contrasting viewpoint.

"That's why we have to fight now."

"Now?"

"Yes, Tilda. What they want is to secure ingredients for some sort of spell or ritual… Whatever it is, it's quite threatening. If Theodore has gone to such lengths, we should also risk intervening now."

A rational argument. Undertaking this path implied they had the confidence to see it through. Allowing their adversaries to succeed was not an option.

A viewpoint truly akin to that of a warrior.

However, Tilda pragmatically countered, deliberating over the prospects of success and potential losses. She proposed that it would be wiser to alert the Magic Tower and ready themselves to thwart Theodore.

Philip retorted that Theodore's strategic acumen could encompass ambushing them in retreat or even deceiving the Magic Tower using other wizards who might have been coerced.

This hypothesis also held merit.

In the midst of the Honorary Grand Master and the One Master exchanging specific insights, and others sharing their opinions on what they deemed right, Kevin unexpectedly spoke up.

"…Zenon."

"Yes, Professor."

An involuntary hush fell over the assembly as all eyes turned to the pair.

"What's your opinion? You're the one who can utilize this barrier."

"I will go along with everyone's opinion."

"So, you're saying anything is fine?"

Yareli interjected, displaying a hint of irritation at the equivocal response, akin to the situation in the basement.

Sensing Yareli's sentiment, Oliver responded.

"Ah… that's not what I meant. I'm merely a staff member, so I don't think it's my place to give an opinion in front of all of you… Also, I'm a warlock."

"At the same time, you're also the person who helped Yareli rescue the other wizards and will be responsible for using the mist for transportation… So you really have no opinion?"

Kevin earnestly inquired.

Reading his emotions, Oliver earnestly replied as well.

"Um… Personally, I would like to fight against the Life School."

"And why is that?"

"Because there's someone I'd like to hit."

Oliver stated, genuine emotion flavoring his words as he envisioned a boy in his mind.

(To be Continued)

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