Ban Ard.
From the hollow-carved incense burner, thin streams of white smoke curled upward.
The study inside Vilgefortz's tower, once overflowing with bookshelves crammed with parchment tomes, engravings, and stone tablets, now stood half-empty.
All the ancient engravings and scrolls had vanished. The shelves held only newer-looking volumes, their spines neat and fresh, leaving the room strangely barren.
Only the desk remained unchanged, stacked high with drafts of manuscripts like a small mountain.
Click—
The door opened, and Lydia van Bredevoort stepped inside.
She ignored the stripped-down surroundings and walked straight toward the desk.
Tap—tap—tap—
Her crisp footsteps echoed through the study.
The pile of manuscripts on the desk quivered slightly, and from within came a weary voice: "Everything arranged?"
"I've already spoken with Gerem," Lydia nodded, then paused, her expression tightening. "When I arrived… Sunny was there too."
"Sunny?"
From behind the mountain of papers emerged a disheveled head. His hair was in disarray, his skin pale and sickly, with deep black circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept properly for days.
A faint red mark lingered on his cheek—likely from having dozed off.
At first glance, no one would think this man was the once-elegant, famously handsome source mage Vilgefortz.
"Why was he there?" Vilgefortz frowned.
"I don't know," Lydia shook her head. "The moment I opened the door, the voices inside stopped. When I left, he even cast Colbert's Silence of Secrecy spell."
Vilgefortz lowered his gaze, running his fingers along the edge of a parchment inscribed with flowing noble script, deep in thought.
After a long pause, he looked up as if suddenly remembering something, and softly chided her: "Don't do something that dangerous again. Sunny has grown increasingly… irritable and suspicious lately."
After Vilgefortz and Miguel returned empty-handed from the Passolon Forest—bearing heavy losses—the already turbulent Ban Ard erupted in violent conflict.
Though Sunny managed to quell the bloodshed with promises of profit, prestige, and by rallying them against the Wild Hunt, the balance of power shifted drastically.
With the opposition loud and the radicals weakened, they were forced to bring in the massive Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization.
After that, everything seemed to fall neatly into place.
"The establishment of a secular kingdom ruled by mages—where spellcasters, with their wisdom, can best govern mankind"—this slogan was put forward on the Consortium's third day in Ban Ard. The voices of dissent were immediately drowned out by the fervent cheers of young mages.
When the "findings" of the pursuit of the Wild Hunt in Passolon were declared stolen by elves, the call to war silenced all opposition completely.
And yet…
Even though everything appeared to be moving exactly as Sunny had planned—backed by Aretuza, with the Consortium as allies, and even the greatest threat, Aedirn's army, collapsing before the sudden Wild Hunt—Sunny himself grew stranger by the day.
Irritable and paranoid were, in truth, conservative descriptions. Lately, many in Ban Ard had been scolded or punished on the spot for trivial matters.
Some of these victims were even radicals themselves.
As for the non-radicals, they suffered far worse—beaten under the guise of "magical training," imprisoned or tortured on charges of "collusion with outsiders" or "leaking secrets."
Leaving was forbidden without strict permission. Departures and returns had to be meticulously reported.
Lydia's recent trip had been nothing more than to file such a report. She simply hadn't expected to run into Sunny there.
And so, the atmosphere within Ban Ard had grown… unsettling.
On the one hand, the lower ranks were fervent with zeal, yet on the other, the upper echelon fell into a fearful silence, as though a storm was about to break.
Colbert's Silence of Secrecy was a spell that left almost no trace.
Lydia had likely noticed it only because, after leaving, she deliberately tried to listen in and caught a faint sign of its presence.
Had Sunny discovered her attempt on the spot, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
"I understand," Lydia nodded, the corner of her lips curving faintly. "Still, things went smoothly. Sunny didn't restrict our trip, only told us to return as soon as possible."
"Sunny probably doesn't suspect us. Last time, he was only displeased because we refused to march against the Aen Seidhe."
Vilgefortz gave a slight nod.
Their position in Ban Ard was an odd one.
Because they were outsiders, brought in by Hen Gedymdeith, they were never trusted enough to be involved in the radical faction's core affairs.
And yet, thanks to Vilgefortz's gift as a Source, and his willingness to take on several tasks entrusted by the radicals, he had built up considerable trust with core figures—especially Miguel, Vidal, and others.
Refusing to lead troops against the Aen Seidhe had certainly lessened the radicals' favor toward him, but it wasn't enough to ruin his standing.
Still, in the long run, this was not a viable path.
Vilgefortz, you shouldn't have rejected the mission to cleanse the Aen Seidhe…
But now it's too late.
In the coming days, Ban Ard will launch its war against the Aen Seidhe. If you can take part, then do it—if not, then find a way to leave Ban Ard…
And quickly!
Thinking back to Vidal's warning a few days ago, after their staff practice session, Vilgefortz's gaze wavered with unease.
"Vilge?" Lydia called softly.
He came back to himself. "Once I've sorted through these diagrams, we'll set out."
Then—
He gave a small shake of his head and returned to the manuscripts.
Rustle, rustle…
Pages turned, the sound of the quill scratching against vellum breaking the silence from time to time.
Lydia stood nearby, watching him immerse himself in work, but her pupils were unfocused, her mind clearly elsewhere.
After a while—
Vilgefortz gradually paused, his quill sliding to a stop on the parchment. He lifted his head and noticed Lydia's distracted look.
"What are you thinking about?"
"N—nothing…" Lydia replied at once, instinctively denying it.
But when she met Vilgefortz's eyes, she hesitated. Glancing warily around the empty study, she finally asked in a low voice: "Vilge, are you really going to betray Ban Ard, and help Tissaia de Vries?"
"There's still time to turn back…"
"You don't want me to help Aretuza?" Vilgefortz looked at her with amused curiosity, almost teasing.
"I don't want you risking your life," Lydia answered seriously, locking eyes with him. "The extraordinary world has always been dominated by mages, and most of that power has belonged to men. Ban Ard may not be strong right now, but the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization is still—"
"We've already had this discussion before," Vilgefortz interrupted.
Lydia paused, then gave a slight nod. "Yes… we did discuss it."
"And at that time, if I recall, we came to a conclusion."
She said nothing, but she didn't look away either.
Leaning back against the high-backed chair, fingers interlaced before him, Vilgefortz studied her in silence for a moment before speaking: "Do you think Sunny's vision of building his so-called sorcerer's kingdom is convincing enough to make you change your mind?"
Lydia nodded. "Right now, Ban Ard is fanatical. In the academy, you can't find anyone opposing the creation of a sorcerer kingdom."
Vilgefortz said nothing.
"The attitudes of most northern nobles and kings are also ambiguous," Lydia continued. "From what I gathered from Tissaia de Vries, only Temeria, Aedirn, Kovir, and Poviss are firmly against it."
"The other kingdoms are far from the extreme rejection of sorcerers wielding worldly power that Tissaia imagined."
"On the contrary, realms like Redania and the Hengfors League, though they've made no public statements, show through their silence a kind of tacit support."
"Compared with Aedirn's total occupation of Kaedwen, most nobles don't really care if sterile sorcerers rule a country. They care more about the goodwill of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers, represented by Ban Ard and the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization."
Vilgefortz smiled faintly, noncommittal.
"And…" Lydia noticed his indifference, paused, then said, "the cities destroyed by the Wild Hunt around Ban Ard have already been fully rebuilt."
"Most of the Kaedweni nobles who escaped the war have already rallied to Sunny's side."
"Under the banner of 'exterminating the elves completely,' Ban Ard has already gathered tens of thousands of troops around it…"
"Vilgefortz…" Lydia took a deep breath. "I can't think of any possibility that the founding of a sorcerer kingdom could fail."
"In fact, Ban Ard already has the strength to establish a secular regime ruled by sorcerers."
"The only reason it hasn't been declared yet is because they still haven't…"
"Haven't wiped out the Aen Seidhe hiding in the Blue Mountains," Vilgefortz finished for her.
Lydia froze for a moment, then nodded.
"Sunny and Ortolan must have planned it this way," Vilgefortz inclined his head. "A purely sorcerer kingdom can't claim any legitimate inheritance."
"Only the ancient path—seizing land, people, and wealth from the Elder Races to win more living space for mankind—only that can silence the rulers of the Northern Continent."
"Even though the Elder Races' lands aren't worth much, they are weak enough."
"So Sunny and Ortolan's plan is solid. The extermination of the elves provides a perfectly valid justification to found a kingdom. It's thorough, and it's rigorous."
Lydia was stunned, then quickly pressed on: "Since you also know the sorcerer kingdom is inevitable, why are you still working for Tissaia de Vries?"
"Vilgefortz, wasn't your purpose in coming to Ban Ard to secure a place in the Brotherhood of Sorcerers' High Council as quickly as possible?"
"Even though the radicals haven't fully embraced us yet, with your abilities, you could easily claim a significant share when the sorcerer kingdom is founded."
"But if you involve yourself in Tissaia de Vries' attempt to rescue Hen Gedymdeith—if it succeeds, fine. But if it fails, and you're discovered…"
"All the radical contacts you've carefully built up in Ban Ard will turn against you. Not only would you never enter the High Council, you'd very likely be hunted down by both Ban Ard and the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization."
"And even if it succeeds—"
"Hen Gedymdeith is still gravely injured. Ortolan may be weaker than him, but not by much, and Sunny, with the Consortium's backing, has all but seized full control of Ban Ard."
"Even if Hen Gedymdeith is rescued, could he truly retake control of Ban Ard?"
"And even if he did, so what?"
"Sunny and the radicals might be punished, but they would never be cast out of the sorcerer world. Yet you, Vilgefortz—you would have truly made enemies of both them and the Rissberg Group's Civil Cooperative Organization, two of the greatest powers in the sorcerer world."
"Even with Hen Gedymdeith and Tissaia de Vries as your backers, what you gain could never outweigh what you lose…"
Lydia spoke in a rush, words spilling out like a torrent.
Clearly, she had been holding this in for a long time.
"Vilgefortz, Tissaia de Vries is a rigid woman, bound by principles. She doesn't care about lost benefits; she only cares whether order is upheld and whether the stability of the Northern Continent is preserved."
"But I don't understand why you have to get involved. Is it really just because of that witcher called Allen?"
"The Child of Miracles." Vilgefortz, who had been smiling quietly as he listened to Lydia's pleas, finally spoke then, correcting her softly.
Lydia's voice faltered at once.
Vilgefortz rose from his seat and slowly walked to the window.
Beneath the blue barrier shrouding the entire city, Ban Ard—restored through the wealth and labor of eager nobles and the power of the sorcerers—seemed to have fully recovered from the disaster half a year ago.
The roar of the crowds was so loud it could be felt even in the depths of the academy.
"Lydia, you've mistaken the reflection on the water for the stars in the night sky."
Vilgefortz's finger tapped lightly against the white marble windowsill as he gazed down at the swarming masses, tiny and toiling like ants. His usually warm eyes were now cold and distant.
"Joining the High Council was never the goal. It never was."
"It's just that every seat in this world has already been taken by mediocrities. No matter how gifted the ones who come after, they can only waste away their years, waiting for those before them to vacate a place, to move one step higher at a time."
"Chaos is the ladder of progress. But no matter how fierce the wars outside, they never touch the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. So I could only wait."
"I had to wait—ten years, a hundred perhaps—otherwise I'd always be forced to bow my head before others."
"But…"
Vilgefortz turned back, his pale green eyes trembling as though they burned with raging fire.
"That is the normal course of things. That is the normal course…"
"But now, Lydia…"
"I have found my ladder."
"The Child of Miracles is my ladder."
.....
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