Proofread By Thomas F

"Welcome, Lord Silver, Baroness Silver," greeted the Great Mage as we appeared by the bronze doors.

"Thank you, Great Mage Stoneheart," I replied and walked inside the grand hall of the Archmage Tower for the last party.

The closing ceremony had finished an hour ago. Now it's time for the party.

With it, the synod will end, and we will return to our homes.

"Lord Silver, Master of Velvet Garden. Lord of Greltheaven and Panar," The herald announced.

Thousands of eyes turned toward us.

Everyone who is someone is at this party.

Not only the masters of legacies but also sovereigns, powerful nobles, and powerhouses are present here.

"Looks like nearly everyone has come," said Leila, looking around.

"Yes," I replied.

Not everyone had arrived yet, but nearly the entire group was already present.

We started to mingle immediately, going from one person to another. It is the final opportunity to meet important people I haven't had a chance to greet yet.

Minutes passed, and more people kept arriving, but the herald only announced the Sovereigns or their representatives, aside from masters of legacy.

We were mingling when a familiar raven-haired woman suddenly stopped and turned toward us with her partner.

"Leila?" said the woman in surprise before turning to me.

"Lady Harley, it's been a while," greeted Leila before turning to the blond man beside her, who looked to be in his early thirties.

"Count Harkis," she said.

"Baroness Silver," he greeted, surprising the raven-haired woman before turning to me.

"Lord Silver," he greeted.

"Count Harkis," I replied with a smile. "Lady Harley," I said.

"Baroness? I didn't know; you gained a title," said the woman. "I inherited it from my dear brother. May god rest his soul," she replied, putting a hand on her chest.

"And Lord Silver is also your brother?" she asked. " Younger brother," Leila replied with a smirk.

"Lord Silver, we have finally met. I have heard so many things about you," she said, turning to me. "It's nice to see you again, Lady Harley," I replied to the woman's surprise.

"Have we met before, Lord Silver?" she asked. Trying to remember where we had met before.

"Yes, in Navr. At Jalrux City, I was with Lord Lancel there," I replied.

She was his date for the day. He introduced her to us, but she only nodded without any interest.

"Yes, now I remember," she said with a smile.

She is a good liar. She didn't remember me, and I can't fault her. I was a nobody then.

A minute later, we walked away from them.

"How do you know her?" I asked. "I had worked for her," she replied. Leila had done mercenary work for a few years.

I didn't ask further, and we mingled around as more guests came.

At precisely nine and a half, the King of Ilazad made his entrance

'He holds a position that every king outwardly scorns yet secretly covets,' Leila remarked in the hushed confines of our privacy skill.

The puppet Kings of Ilazad are the bearers of the longest unbroken bloodline; a legacy weighed down by centuries of tradition and control.

Being an unofficial subject of Archmage City offers them the protection that not even the strongest kings of the continents have.

They never get attacked, and there is a bloodless succession as the archmage city chooses the next king.

Like the current king, he was fifth in line but still ascended the throne. His safety and power are apparent.

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We mingled, and I even got a minute with the king. The masters have that privilege.

I spent time conversing with others, focusing primarily on the masters of legacy and those from the empire and merchant states. I also exchanged words with individuals like Miss Dawnstar.

She held her own invitation—unsurprising, given her level. At such heights, class distinctions began to blur. Once someone reached her level, the boundaries of class mattered little; every path and discipline became a source of immense power.

Her class makes the connections. Even if she didn't have an invitation, I am sure she would have come with someone who did.

I talked to her and moved to the other people, including Ophelia.

She went to Miss Dawnstar after talking to me.

She's always a peach. Perfect, sweet, and utterly infuriating.

We were mingling when a gentle bell rang out through the great hall. Immediately, the entire hall quieted down; even the king stopped talking.

"Archmage Azaran Thalor, Master of Archmage Tower. Lord of Archmge City. Protector of Zenid,"

The herald announced as the Archmage made an entrance. He walked inside slowly, deliberately, with his eyes moving across the hall.

He stopped, and thousands of glasses filled with golden liquid floated toward us, their delicate stems shimmering in the light. Everyone picked a glass one by one, their hands steady and assured. I selected mine as it stopped in front of me.

The silence lingered for several seconds before the Archmage spoke.

"Friends, Allies, and Fellow Masters,"

"Tonight, we honor more than the end of this synod—we celebrate the bonds we've forged and the unity we've discovered."

"Each of you came here as representatives, but you leave as part of something greater."

"Though our paths now diverge, let tonight remind us that our shared purpose binds us beyond borders. Together, we are stronger, and the magic we've created here will guide the world forward."

"Raise your glasses—to unity, friendship, and the future we will build together!"

He finished speaking and raised his glass. We all followed suit, lifting ours in unison. As I took a sip, the beautifully smooth wine glided over my tongue, its rich flavors melting in my mouth like a delicate symphony of taste.

When it entered my stomach, it became energy and spread through me.

This wine will heal me fully.

Many people come for the wine alone. It is expensive, to say the least, but it also ages in the archmage tower; it has breathed its mist.

So, one can imagine how precious it is.

I drank it slowly and enjoyed every sip. However, what I enjoyed most was the energy it had become within me.

We mingled. I even talked to the archmage, and before I knew it. It was midnight, and not a single person had left, not even the king.

Nobody will leave before the archmage.

"Masters and Heirs, please gather by the gate," the voice of Grand Mage Asin rang through the hall.

A surprise flashed in my eyes, but soon questions appeared.

There is no gate; there are doors. The question only lasted momentarily before a teleportation gate appeared in the middle of the grand hall.

"What is happening?" asked Leila.

"I don't know, but I think I have an idea," I replied, and she looked at me in question.

I smiled and walked toward the gate.

It had happened once in the synod in the previous century. I don't know if the same thing is happening, but I hope it is.

I have heard and read so much about those things. I would really love to see it.

I stopped beside Ophelia at the gate. Soon, the other masters and heirs appeared, but not the representatives.

Heir is an official position within a legacy, appearing in Grade IV legacies. However, it's not a given in every legacy; in some, it only emerges later.

This distinction means people like Miss Tavern couldn't enter the gate.

"Enter," said the archmage, and the people began stepping inside the gate.

Soon, it was my turn, and I stepped inside.

It was dark for a few seconds before everything cleared, and I found myself in front of the genuinely massive gate.

It is at least eighty meters tall, likely more.

It was red, gleaming as if crafted from some rare metal, but upon closer inspection, it became clear that something was off. The surface seemed too delicate, too intricate. Tiny strings shimmered along its frame, making it feel less like a gate that had been forged—and more like one that had been painstakingly woven.

It had a swirling pattern all over it. When I followed the pattern with my eyes, I felt my head spinning hard.

I looked away from it and looked around.

There are hills and trees around the gate. I had expected powerful spells. Magic towers and weapons, I had only read about.

I didn't expect the trees and hills, and I felt something different about them when I saw them.

I don't know what it is, but I felt the strangeness.

I turned back to the door and noticed another abnormal thing. The frame of the door isn't attached to anything. It was just standing.

I pushed those thoughts and looked at the gate with all the gravity it deserved.

It is the most dangerous thing in the world, the source from which they come. Gates aren't the only means of passage, but they are by far the most stable—and they love to use them.

"I am sure all of you would have guessed what this is," said Archmage with his voice somber.

'Incursion Gate!' Ophelia exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mix of wonder and dread. The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning—an ancient name for a force that could unravel everything.

"The things that come out of it represent the greatest danger to our world. This danger, we fear, might come in this century," Archmage stated, making everyone shudder.

Although the last incursion occurred over two thousand years ago, it is still an integral part of world culture.

Whenever the incursion comes, it doesn't just threaten—it obliterates. At least half of the world's population is lost, and that's considered a favorable scenario.

This one isn't the only gate; there are several worldwide.

It is said that there are grades to the gates. The gate in Amberhold, though powerful, is a level lower than this one.

"I have brought you all here in the hope that you will shape the preparations for what is coming," said the archmage. Many smiled at those words, yet their smiles held no joy, only a grim understanding of the storm ahead.

"I know many of you feel powerless. Slaves to your sovereign, but you have more power than you realize," he added.

To that belief – I agree.

The legacies have the power to shape the opinions. It is second only to the Sovereigns. Some legacies bear power even more significant than the Sovereigns.

"Will the incursion truly happen this century, Archmage?" asked Lord Orion, and he wasn't as nervous as usual.

"I am not sure, but the signs we are seeing make it likely," replied the Archmage and the tremor spread through my soul.

I hope it doesn't come to that.

I've read about them—more than I should—and it terrifies me to my core. Even the Elders and the gods aren't guaranteed to survive when they appear. What chance do mortals like me stand?