113: Chapter 77: Taking the Blame for Others 113: Chapter 77: Taking the Blame for Others The remnants of sunset dyed the clouds a fiery red.
Gliding through the sky, the wings descended gradually from the heights.
First the hind hooves touched the ground, followed by the front pairs of eagle claws.
As it folded its wings, the majestic head elegantly shook its feathers, and the horse’s tail behind it swished a few times.
Holding a Magic Wand and clad in a Black Robe, the young man steadied himself on the saddle and flipped off the back of Jun Ying.
Straightening his Magic Robe, his gaze traveled North, calculating the distance; they must be close to the Western Port now.
Having completed the mission, he had returned from the South, the nomadic realms of the Barbarians, eager for a quick audience with his mentor to report his achievements.
However, after such a long journey, both he and Jun Ying needed to rest for the night.
Taking out a vial carrying casting materials, he sprinkled some dust onto the ground, then raised his Magic Wand, chanting spells.
The wand, entwined branches around a Crystal Stone, tipped lightly on the dust.
A faint vibrational hum filled the air.
Magic Power followed the constructed Magic Technique, activating the small cluster of materials.
The dust particles shone brightly, spreading outward from the center, forming a circle of misty warning lines.
As the glow from the circle of phosphorescent powder faded, the man finished setting up his temporary alert measures and sat down beside Jun Ying, who was lying down to rest.
Placing the long staff across his lap, he attempted to meditate.
But perhaps it was the anticipation of seeing his long-missed mentor, he struggled to settle into a restful meditation.
Especially with the image of that unbearably conspicuous blond youth repeatedly flashing through his mind.
…Nothing but a lowly slave, his family and country ruined…
Reminded of the fellow now occupying his former place, he gritted his teeth.
After all, his mentor was not truly a good person.
Though their bond as master and apprentice remained tight after many years…
ever since he had aged beyond certain limits, exhibiting more obvious signs, the mentor had lost all interest in him.
This caused him a deep envy towards the damned young appearance of the blond youth.
“Sooner or later, you will also lose the mentor’s favor…
I will kill you one day,” he muttered, clutching the Magic Wand tightly.
As dusk turned to night, darkness descended.
In the Atiyas embassy within Kantadar Western Port.
Leon strived to maintain a calm demeanor, his gaze steady and expression unsmiling, as usual.
Having changed into the “clothes” specified by Pilireno, Azeryan curled up on the couch, tugging at the cloak draped over him, his eyes helplessly looking at his composed companion.
“Laugh if you want, but you must swear never to speak of today’s events!”
Azeryan’s face twitched uncomfortably as he tightened his cloak, “You must keep this secret!”
Now he understood why Kovis had wrapped himself so securely when they first met.
If anyone else saw him in this attire, Azeryan believed he would immediately draw his sword to take his own life.
“I will never speak a single word about today to anyone; it’s a secret more important than my own life,” Leon swore solemnly.
There was no way around it; this friend’s sacrifice today was indeed too great.
“Are you ready?” Kovis’s voice urging them came from outside the door.
“Coming,” Leon responded before giving one final instruction to Azeryan, “As soon as his head aligns with that pattern on the door panel, knock three times, softly then forcefully, but remember, be sure to remain seated to avoid accidental injury.”
Azeryan nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath and committing this crucial covert signal—vital to his life and reputation—to memory.
The two stood up and opened the door.
Outside, the blond youth was dressed in exotic Dancer attire.
At first glance, he indeed resembled a beautiful girl, but his flat chest reminded others of his true gender.
“Aren’t you going to cover that up?” Leon couldn’t help but awkwardly turn away.
It would’ve been okay if he didn’t know the other’s gender, but knowing it was a man, it was somewhat unbearable to look directly.
“I see no reason to feel ashamed in front of Pilireno…
Besides, tonight might be the last time I wear this ridiculous outfit,” Kovis said nonchalantly, arms crossed.
After speaking, the youth calmly turned to lead the way.
Leon chose not to accompany them, allowing Azeryan to follow Kovis up the stairs.
Waiting several minutes before the guestroom door, he timed his steps, joining them swiftly as he calculated they would nearly have reached the target room.
Even at night, the embassy’s second-floor hallway was not dim.
The Atiyas people had installed expensive chandeliers that provided illumination every few intervals, and their candles emitted a brighter light than any he had seen in his previous memories, a true display of luxury.
Leon softly ascended to the second floor and hid around the corner.
Listening for the sound of Kovis and Azeryan entering the target room and closing the door, he emerged.
Approaching the door, he assumed the stance of drawing a bow, aiming at the point corresponding to Pilireno’s head height.
“Miss Lora, I desperately hope for a successful one-hit kill!” he prayed intensely to Miss Mage within.
From outside, only Pilireno’s disgusting laughter and a faint conversation were audible; unaware of the situation behind the door, Leon patiently awaited his companion’s signal to strike.
Time seemed to stretch unbearably long.
Fortunately, other servants had already been sent away by Kovis, in Pilireno’s name, forbidden to come close.