Time has a tendency to slip away unnoticed, and this change is difficult to grasp, especially in

the perpetually dark underground world. It has been nearly a month since Vincent became

the First Family's counselor Mage.

All this time, he was searching for the whereabouts of the missing angel. But there was no

news of the little angel. The first thing Vincent does every day is use the magic of prophecy,

hoping to find any trace. But there seemed to be a powerful force blocking all prophetic spells,

and it was pointless to ask for information about the cherub. One thing Vincent was sure of

from the constant inquiries was that the little angel was not dead, that she was still alive and

kicking somewhere.

Vincent, too, was reassured. If the purpose of those who kidnapped the angel was to bring

Heaven and the First Family into conflict, then the little angel was a very useful leverage before

the battle began. They will keep it alive and well.

During this month, Vincent's research on the Arcane scrolls has also made considerable

progress. At first he thought he had exhausted the knowledge in the first book of the

Mysteries of the Arcane, but when he finished the second chapter, The Law of Creation, a new

chapter appeared in the first book, all of which were supplementary explanations on the

creation of spells and Arcane arts. And these new things were very important to him as a

mage. It was very enlightening.

"Learning a new spell is not actually an improvement in a mage's ability, but discovering a

new idea or concept is..." Vincent's mentor Castle had told him so.

The known spells were nothing more than the lessons learned by those who had come before

him, who had pointed out shortcuts to the future. But in front of Vincent, there is a new path,

he is building a new system of magic.

It was very different from the Net and from the Great Arcane of the past. Although he has

two summaries of the Great Arcane's spells in his hand, he does not have a single scroll of

ancient spells. What he uses now is an invention of the mages who stabilized the Net. This

has resulted in a state of research where he is now trying to learn the source of magic while

building on the magic of the Web.

His biggest gain these days is how to use the power of the source of magic to directly affect

the spell, so that the mage can use various supernatural skills (such as strength, distance, etc.),

while consuming other spells to temporarily transform another spell, to achieve the effect of

no prior memory can be completed.

Today, as usual, he sat in his hotel room, intently studying the Enigmatic volumes in front of

him, writing down his own experiences as he read them. Mark and Hardy went to the ring

again, ostensibly to "study the way underground creatures fight," but Hardy wanted to play

in the arena, and Mark simply accompanied him, tending to his belongings while the fighter

fought.

Vincent could guess what Hardy was up to, but since he came out of the ring unscathed every

day and had a quiet place to study, he let them do it.

After writing a few words, Vincent suddenly put the Ofa Secret back into his arms. For he saw

three dark elves running up the stairs in a hurry, and the Stone-legged boss who tried to stop

them was knocked to the ground.

There was a knock, knock, knock at the door, and without waiting for Vincent to answer, the

dark elves opened the door and entered.

"Counselor, the noble Matriarch orders you to come to the house at once."

Vincent looked at the family insignia they were wearing, the lowly warrior emblem of the First

family, then nodded, picked up the staff and flew straight out the window to the First family

fort.

Unlike the last time they had been here, everything was quiet, even the lowly ogres who

patrolled the door were gone. But Vincent's penetrating eye clearly showed that in the corners

of the castle, in the shadows of the walls, behind the decorative statues, there were Drow

warriors. The whole place was now surrounded by elite dark elves, and they looked as if they

were in imminent danger.

Vincent descends to the ground and walks slowly towards the front door. In this situation, he

did not dare to continue flying. It would be very unlucky if he was mistaken for an intruder

and was shot down from the sky with poisonous dark Elven bolts.

"Is there any other house that wants to attack this place, to claim the crown of the First

Family?" Vincent thought. From what he had been doing in the city for nearly a month, there

was no family that could pose a threat to the Chapman family. "Could it be a combination of

families?"

Vincent enters the camp of the Dark Elves and is led by one of the family's warriors. As he

floats, he wonders, "What will unite the families? Can they really balance their own interests

and unite for such a difficult fight?"

As he calculated the possibilities, the Dark Elf warrior led him to the Hall of the Audience. He

pushed open the door and entered to find no fewer than twenty people already standing

inside.

At the very top, seated on a wide throne, was Mistress Batana, leaning on a soft cushion, her

eyes squinting comfortably, her chin resting on one hand, and her eyes closed.

Then on the steps stood the eight priestesses of the dark Elves, and the one closest to her

place, Zeena, whom Vincent had already seen, was looking at the sorcerer who had just

entered the door with her usual disdainful eyes, but with a slight upturn of the corners of her

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

mouth, with a hint of flirtativism. Her body was always sending a message to others: "Lowly

creatures, it is your greatest pleasure to entertain me, to satisfy me."

Shelley, in position 5, does not wear a warrior's garb today, but a priest's robe like her "sister."

The only difference is that instead of a spider goddess on her robe, she has a pair of black

star machetes.

Vincent had never met any of the other Dark Elf families, but just from the seven priests --

Shelley wore clerical robes, but she was not a true power user -- Vincent knew the strength

of the family. The priests who were able to stay with their mother were usually members of

the family who had attained high achievement in the use of divinity, not just as followers of

the spider goddess, but as leaders in the Drow cult who combined the goddess's love,

strength, and cruelty. They were at the very top of the dark elven community. Two or three

of these priests in a family, in addition to the matriarch, would constitute a family with a place

in the city of Prudence. And that at once was seven high priests -- Vincent did not believe

that this was all the strength of the family, and that there must be hidden cards -- enough to

easily wipe out any family after the top five.

And now that they're all here, preparing for some kind of meeting, it's clear that something

big is going on.

In addition to these dark Elf priestesses, in the open space below the steps stood two rows of

less important creatures. Mostly male dark elves, they were all looking at Vincent with

suspicion and defiance, looking at this "family advisor" who had suddenly appeared. Among

them, the most icy looks come from two dark elves dressed in mage robes.

"Two mages?" Vincent could not help but sigh again at the strength of this family. In many

terrestrial countries, even the highest ruler could not command a mage, and in this small

underground city, a dark elf family had two -- oh, now three -- mages at their service.

Vincent looked at all the people in the hall with his penetrating eyes, but he found a dark

wizard who was covering his hands with the sleeves of his robe and making magical gestures.

His lips did not move, as if he were waiting for the meeting to begin with his head down, but

through the technique of "silent magic", he wanted to intimidate Vincent, the newcomer.

Had he not seen the gesture, Vincent would have been very defenseless. However, things

were different now, and Vincent quickly began to prepare for this magic. He used both silent

and fixed spells, ignoring the language and posture components of one spell.

Unnoticed, the two magical energies met in the Dark Elf mage's sleeve. As always, the

products of the two magical systems do not harmonize, and they begin to oscillate, trying to

overwhelm each other.

Instead of figuring out what was going on, the Dark elf mage felt his spell suppressed, and

then there was a rush of energy all over his sleeve.

Originally, the two energies were evenly matched, and no one could suppress anyone, and

eventually they could only spell out the fate of both disappearing. But there is one absolute

advantage to using the source of magic. Vincent can channel this primal energy into the spells

he casts -- just as he can use it to restore magic to the staff. As a result, the magic he wields

instantly overpowers the Dark Elf's, and in this case, the power of the blast literally tears the

Drow master's sleeve. There was no sound, no light, only that his sleeve was suddenly reduced

to shredded strips of cloth, which flew through the air in a mist of blood.

All looked like the disheveled sorcerer. He had a bare arm now, which was covered with thick

scratches, and blood was trickling slowly down the charred wound, but this fellow was tough

and could not bear the intense pain without saying a word. He was only expressing his anger

by glaring into Vincent's eyes.

Shelley tried not to laugh aloud. She noticed Vincent looking at her. She gave him a direction

with her eyes, indicating where he should stand.

Vincent, leaning on his staff and making a face that had nothing to do with him, stood where

Shelley had told him to be. Right in the middle of all the Dark Elf priests and other family

members.

Standing opposite him was the warrior monk who had wounded him!

"You seem to be recovering well, Mr. Monk." Vincent's voice was suddenly heard in the

otherwise quiet room. All the dark elves, except Mother, looked at him, watching the

audacious creature carefully.

A man, who dared to talk freely in front of Mother!

"Call me Regula, mage!"

"Do you think this is the end of things between us? Warrior Monk?" As Vincent stared at the

monk, he watched with insight the movements of the mother and the expressions of the

various dark elf priests.

Batana kept her eyes closed, as if she did not perceive anything. Shelley licked her lips with

excitement, her eyes filled with anticipation that the fight would begin. A sneer hung from

Zena's lips, as if mocking the Master's overreach.

"It's about time you learned to respect a mage." As Vincent said this, a ring of ice rose from

his body, sending out an endless chill. The condensation of water from the sudden cold was

like a white mist spreading outward, covering the figure of the mage.

With his penetrating eye, Vincent was able to see the monk easily, whereas it would have

been a great effort for the monk to spot the monk in the ice mist.

Just as the battle was about to break out, the mother, Batana, opened her eyes.

"Stop, all of you. I have something important to say now. '