Chapter 49: Aftermath
The Capital roared with rumors and panic, but Raven walked through the chaos like a ghost—black-haired, young, unnoticed. Only fifteen, yet the Empire shook beneath his footsteps.
He approached Crown's Tavern, its doors guarded and sealed. The once-lively place now sat in uneasy silence.
I wonder who'll inherit this place… will everything the Prime Minister owned go to the Wizard Alliance?
[Most likely. So—what are your plans now?] Zera asked, voice cool and steady.
Raven breathed out slowly.
'Now that the crisis is over, I need to slow down. My real enemies are the Emperor and the Wizard Alliance. And I'm only a Rank-1 Acolyte. I saved Aunt Shirley through tricks… I can't repeat that again.'
Images of Royal Guards dragging him away flashed through his mind.
'If I'm caught again, they'll execute me as a traitor.'
He continued walking toward the residential district, boots brushing against cobblestones.
His pace slowed. His thoughts did too.
'With my current low affinities, I'll need at least five years to comprehend all spell models and reach Rank-2 Radiant Warlock. Unless I advance my alchemy to Adept Rank, I can't speed up my progression.'
[Do you have a better idea?]
'I'll find people like Rebecca. Hidden gems. And I'll make them my servants.'
[Servants? Not subordinates?] Zera sounded genuinely surprised.
'Subordinates betray. Servants don't.' Raven's gaze darkened. 'I'll build a small elite group across different classes. When they're strong enough, they'll form their own factions. And if even one becomes another Mercenary Guild… I'll have a faction stronger than any Noble family.'
[You're planning far ahead, lad.]
'Yes. And someday, I'll build a Magic Tower. Like the Rebirth Tower in Runeth's memories.'
Guards stationed near Crown's Tavern barely glanced at him as he passed. His true identity might be exposed, but no one had seen his face yet.
'The photograph will take hours to develop… I need to finish everything here and disappear before it spreads.'
He reached Judith's mansion. The guards bowed deeply.
"Welcome, Sir Raven."
Inside, lavender and polished wood mingled into a comforting scent. Chandeliers glowed softly overhead. The mansion felt safe—deceptively so.
At the entrance stood Butler Philip, hair silver and perfectly combed, a file tucked under his arm.
"Welcome back." He bowed. "Lady Judith is expecting you."
Raven followed him through long corridors lined with tapestries until they entered the main hall.
He froze.
There, on a velvet armchair, sat Shirley. Pale. Exhausted. Her wrist heavily bandaged—her missing hand hidden beneath thick cloth.
Lauren stood beside her, applying a glowing blue potion with a trembling frown.
After pouring the last vial on the severed area, Lauren shook her head.
"It's futile," she murmured. "Even a Rare-Rank potion can't regrow a hand. Too much time has passed."
Judith crossed her arms. "Even Legendary potions can't regrow limbs. They can only reattach if preserved well."
"It's fine," Shirley said softly. "I don't need it. I'm only happy that my boy is alive… and fighting for me."
Raven's heart cracked.
He rushed to her, dropping to his knees, gripping her bandaged wrist as though she might disappear.
"Aunt Shirley… I thought I lost you."
Her remaining hand stroked his hair gently, warmth radiating from her despite her pain. Judith and Lauren stepped back, allowing the moment its space.
When Raven finally steadied himself, he wiped his eyes and faced Judith.
"Lady Judith… I need a favor." His voice firmed. "Protect my aunt until I'm strong enough to do it myself."
Judith's lips curved into an amused smile.
"Do you understand what you're asking? You challenged the Emperor and the Wizard Alliance today. Helping you will cost me."
[Use the affinity potion formulas. But don't give them for free.] Zera reminded.
Raven inhaled. "I know. So I have a proposal."
Judith lifted a brow. "Go on."
"I want a mutual alliance. I'll give you formulas for basic elemental Affinity Potions—Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, Darkness. Only Low, Intermediate, and High ranks. My teacher forbids sharing anything beyond that."
Judith's eyes sharpened.
So that's the angle. A negotiation, not generosity. Smart boy.
"And what do you want in return?" she asked.
"For each formula, a fair price. A Low-Rank Affinity Potion sells for 5,000 gold at minimum. Sometimes 20,000. Even after ingredient costs, the profit is huge. I want fifty percent."
Judith laughed softly.
"Raven, sometimes I use multiple ingredient sets for one potion. Profit barely reaches 1,000 at times."
Raven didn't react. He knew she was lying.
His own 30% success rate was mediocre—but Judith had near-perfect success. She could produce a hundred low-rank potions a day if she wished.
"And Low-Rank isn't attractive to buyers," she added. "I'll give you twenty percent profit. But I'll also give you full patent rights."
Raven clenched his jaw.
Twenty percent was miserable.
But Aunt Shirley's protection mattered more than gold.
"…Fine."
Judith nodded approvingly. "Next, the Intermediate Rank."
She took control of the negotiation this time.
"Intermediate potions are worth far more. Nobles will pay massive sums. But ingredients will be rare, and crafting difficulty rises sharply. I'll give you twenty-five percent."
Raven wanted to push—but stopped himself. He gave a small nod.
"And the High Rank?" Judith asked.
"Forty percent," he said. "And I'll give those formulas after one year."
Judith grinned. "Deal… Rebel Prince."
Raven blinked. "Rebel Prince?"
"That's what the news is calling you. And your father."
Raven's expression hardened. "Let them talk. It changes nothing."
Judith smirked. "Good. Now let's seal this properly. Magic Contract—otherwise I won't trust you."
"I was going to suggest the same," Raven said.
Philip returned with a black velvet box. Judith opened it, revealing shimmering parchments that pulsed with runic power.
"These are Magic Contract parchments," she said. "Created by the will of a Higher Being. Break the terms… and you lose your strength. Some even die."
'Zera, is that real?'
[Yes. Even Judith can't break such a contract.]
'What's a Higher Being?'
[Rank-6 and above. They wield laws, unbound by the world's limits.]
Raven exhaled softly.
"Let's sign."
Judith placed the parchment on a polished table. She drew a glowing ornate quill—clearly an artifact.
"We speak the terms," she said. "The quill writes. Then we sign… with blood."
The quill hovered in the air, its faint glow tracing runes across the shimmering parchment. Raven stepped forward, shoulders straight, voice steady.
"I, Raven Sillalus Jorvot, the 66th Prince of the Zenith Empire, hereby agree to provide Lady Judith with the formulas for Low-Rank and Intermediate-Rank affinity potions of Fire, Water, Earth, Wind, Light, and Darkness. The formulas for High-Rank potions will be given after one year. In exchange, I retain full patent rights for these formulas and will receive twenty percent of the profit from Low-Rank sales, twenty-five percent from Intermediate-Rank sales, and forty percent from High-Rank sales."
The quill wrote rapidly.
Judith's voice followed, clear and resonant.
"I, Judith, Legendary Rank Wizard and Vice-President of Crows' Misery, agree to Raven Sillalus Jorvot's terms. In return for the formulas, I will fulfill every condition stated and ensure the Prince's percentages are paid without fail."
The quill lifted itself, finishing the final stroke.
A bright glow rippled across the parchment.
Judith handed Raven a small golden pin. He pricked his thumb, letting a single drop of blood fall. His name flared into burning crimson letters. Judith pressed her own finger, her signature forming in radiant gold.
Light swallowed the parchment, rolled it into a scroll, and—
—vanished.
Judith exhaled, lips curling. "The contract is bound to our souls now. No turning back."
Raven nodded. "Good. Then I'll take ten of these parchments. I'll need them for future deals."
Judith blinked in surprise. "Each costs ten thousand gold. Are you sure?"
Raven grinned. "Can I pay later with the profits?"
"Haa… go on." She waved lazily.
Judith handed him ten parchments. Raven slipped them into his inventory. Then he requested paper and ink, sat at the table, and began writing formulas with swift, precise strokes.
Judith and Lauren watched in silence—amazed at how smoothly he wrote, as if copying something etched into his bones.
When he finished, he handed the sheets to Judith. Her eyes scanned the formulas, searching for mistakes.
She found none.
"…Impressive," she murmured.
Judith then grew serious. "Now tell me—how do I contact you? Once your face is public, coming here won't be possible."
"I'll contact you through my teacher's second disciple," Raven replied solemnly.
[Why expose your identity like this?] Zera sounded alarmed.
'I need another identity as cover. It'll avoid problems later. I'll explain after.'
Judith frowned. "Your teacher's second disciple? Who?"
"Thomas Holmes," Raven answered. "But keep that secret. If the Royal Family or Wizard Alliance know he's my junior, they might harm him."
Judith's eyes widened slightly. Then she nodded.
Raven turned to Shirley.
"Aunt… can we talk alone?"
"Go ahead," Judith said, gesturing toward a quieter corner of the hall.
…
Raven closed the door behind them. Shirley sat quietly, her bandaged wrist resting in her lap.
He knelt beside her.
"Aunt… focus on your health for now. I'll find a way to restore your hand. I swear it."
Her smile trembled as her eyes grew wet. "Just hearing that is enough. Don't destroy yourself for me, little one."
He swallowed. "I'm also worried about Athena. But after what I did today… I doubt the Emperor will act recklessly."
Shirley cupped his cheek with her remaining hand, warm and gentle.
"You're doing your best. Athena will be safe. Follow your teacher's words and become stronger. Lady Judith told me your teacher's strength is unfathomable. Become like him. Study well, eat well, and bathe with warm water. You always catch cold so easily."
"I'm not a child anymore," Raven muttered.
"You are," she said instantly.
He almost smiled—almost.
Her expression shifted. "How is your soul? Did your teacher cure that illness? If something happens to you… I won't survive it."
Raven's lips curved softly. "My soul is healed, Aunt. Completely. I reached peak Acolyte and gained a hundred and fifty years of lifespan. I'll live long—don't worry."
"That's wonderful!" Shirley exhaled shakily. She squeezed his arm. "And you seem to have found a way to improve your affinities. Good."
She paused, voice quieting.
"When you're strong—and have trusted allies—come take good care of your mother… your aunt… your sister."
Raven's breath caught.
He remembered the woman he saw in the hallway—her fierce argument with the advocate, her desperation to save Shirley.
Mother…
His heart twisted.
Shirley patted his head, as if reading his thoughts. "Don't be angry at my sister. She never wronged you."
Raven's lips tightened. "I know. But… I was dead to her for years. I don't know if she can even see me as her son."
"Silly child," Shirley whispered. "A mother's love doesn't die. Not in a decade, not in a century. Focus on growing stronger. I'll contact Athena and Jeanne by letters now that I'm safe."
She inhaled deeply. "When will we meet again? You'll be hiding for a while."
"I'm not sure, Aunt. But I'll send letters through my junior."
He hugged her gently before leaving the room.
…
Judith and Lauren were waiting.
"Thank you for everything," Raven said. "I won't forget this favor."
"Just don't die running from the Emperor and the Wizard Alliance's dogs, Rebel Prince," Judith said dryly.
"I won't."
His gaze shifted to Philip.
Judith's eyes flickered, and a telepathic whisper brushed Raven's mind:
I know you don't trust him. He's under my supervision. If he steps out of line, I'll kill him myself.
'Thank you.'
With a final bow, Raven left the mansion.
Outside, a sleek black carriage waited. Raven climbed in.
"Market Street."
"Yes, sir."
The carriage rolled forward. Moments later, several other carriages appeared from intersecting roads, following at controlled distances.
Raven peeled back a corner of the curtain.
Being followed, huh…
Market Street appeared ahead—crowded, loud, perfect for slipping away.
Raven activated Mind Eye. Time slowed. Every detail sharpened.
A small puppy shivered in a dark alley.
Raven smiled faintly and activated Shadow Shift.
His form dissolved into darkness and reappeared where the puppy was.
The puppy now sat in the carriage—warm, confused, and safe.
Raven crouched in the alley, unseen by anyone. As the carriages rolled past him, he exhaled softly and blended back into the crowd.
He tugged his bowler hat lower and cast Face Mimic—bones shifting, skin tone altering, eye color changing.
Thomas Holmes emerged from the shadows.
Raven shed his coat, stored it, pulled on a simple gray suit, and walked calmly through the evening bustle.
'I should check antique and artifact shops… maybe I'll get lucky.'
Monocle on eye, he browsed store after store—twenty and counting.
He found rare and even Epic artifacts… far out of reach.
Five hundred platinum for a Rare? That's fifty thousand gold…
Epic costs ten times that…
He left the last shop with a sigh.
He bought clothes and essentials, bathed at an inn, changed into clean attire, and walked back into the night.
[There are no divination-type skills on this continent. You're safe.]
'But what about the Wizard Alliance? Jamison had "Eye of Truth." Others must have similar abilities.'
[Possible… but if a diviner existed among them, they would've already hunted you.]
'Fair.'
He entered a carriage house and boarded a new carriage.
"To Garden Street."
The driver flicked the reins.
The night deepened.
Raven vanished into it.