The chilling grasp of Varence's binding spell slithered through the air, constricting the enemy mage's limbs with its frosty embrace. "Frost Bindings," he declared, his voice resounding like a gong's powerful strike.

With calculated steps, Thorne approached the immobilized mage, his heart thundering in his chest. As he yanked back the mage's hood, he found himself gazing upon a woman of otherworldly beauty. Sunlit strands of golden hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, while her porcelain skin sharply contrasted the pain contorting her delicate features.

"Please," the mage pleaded, her voice quivering with desperation. "Just end it. We've trained to resist illusion magic for this very reason. Our profession demands the ability to withstand such tricks."

Thorne locked eyes with her and shook his head. "Resistance? That concept has no meaning when facing me," he said, his voice low and menacing. "Regardless of your training, you've never encountered an illusionist mage with my capability."

Gently gripping the back of her head, he pulled her hair to align his gaze with hers. She gasped in pain and attempted to resist, but the Frost Bindings, combined with Galen's lingering debuffs, rendered her immobile.

"Now, let's test that so-called resistance of yours," Thorne declared as he initiated his spell. A surge of energy radiated from his hand, encircling the mage in a brilliant glow. She shrieked in torment as the spell took effect, her body contorting and convulsing as if being ravaged from within.

"What do you think of that?" Thorne asked, a threatening edge to his voice as he stared intently at the captive mage. Tightening his grip on her hair, his piercing gaze seemed to bore into her very soul. Desperate to appease him, the mage fumbled for the right words. "It's truly astonishing," she stammered, hoping her praise would be enough to save her. "It's incredibly rare to encounter an illusionist mage as skilled as you."

A sinister smile played across Thorne's lips as he finally completed casting the illusion spell. The mage's eyes bulged in terror as she saw the king's visage superimposed onto Thorne's, replicated to the minutest detail—the mole on his cheek, the worry lines on his brow, all unmistakable. The illusion magic took full effect, and her consciousness seemed to vanish.

"Father?" she inquired, her voice quavering with a mix of confusion and fury. Thorne's retort, however, sent a chill down her spine. "No, my dear, it's Daddy." he replied, his eyes gleaming and his grin widening. It became evident to everyone present that this mage was, in fact, the king's daughter.

Varence couldn't help but cringe at Thorne's disturbing remark about being called "Daddy." Galen, too, found himself at a loss for words. He had never witnessed Thorne behaving this way before—could it be some kind of twisted jest? The idea was almost too appalling to consider.

With sudden force, Thorne drove the mage's head into the ground, the sickening crack sending shivers down Varence's spine. As she crumpled to the floor, unconscious, Thorne stood over her, the twisted grin on his face refusing to fade. "Pick her up," he commanded. "We've just secured our leverage against the king."

Varence couldn't shake the growing unease that swirled within him as he observed Thorne's chilling demeanor. He had just witnessed this man unleash chaos, and now he reveled in the aftermath of his brutal actions. Despite his best efforts, Varence found it impossible to ignore the concern gnawing at the edge of his thoughts.

Despite his efforts, Varence felt a growing sense of unease in the pit of his stomach. With the king's daughter now in their custody, he couldn't help but speculate about Thorne's intentions for her. Was she merely a pawn in their scheme, a bargaining chip to be leveraged against her own father? Or was Thorne harboring an even darker plan?

Once Varence had the opportunity to clean himself up, he gingerly picked up the unconscious mage, cradling her with care. He glanced up to find Thorne already several paces ahead, his impatience evident in the tense set of his shoulders. Varence, mindful of the blood seeping from the princess's head wound, hurried to catch up. Thorne called back to him, urgency lacing his words, "We must hasten our pace. More enemies could be upon us soon, and with our mana reserves dwindling, we can't afford to linger."

Varence seized the moment to question Thorne about something that had been bothering him for some time. "I've been meaning to ask you, Thorne. What's with your eyes rolling back into your head at random?" he demanded an explanation.

"If you answer two of my questions first, I'll contemplate addressing yours. But let's discuss while we walk—come on," Thorne countered.

"As long as you never bring up my moment of vulnerability concerning my... bowels, then sure. What do you want to know?" Varence consented, hastening his stride to keep up with Thorne as they departed the courtyard.

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"First, how is it that you're able to flawlessly conceal such massive spell charges, or even your entire power, without anyone realizing?" Thorne inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Varence hesitated, reluctant to reveal the truth. "I can't tell you—it's a family secret," he responded. But then, remembering his agreement to this exchange, he sighed and resigned himself to share. "My father taught me a covert illusion spell he discovered from an artifact he found by chance," Varence revealed to Thorne."

"Intriguing that your father was an illusionist. And from an artifact, no less?! Now I have even more questions... But first, I want you to teach me that spell," Thorne insisted.

"I can't, there are specific conditions that you don't meet. And my father wasn't an illusionist; he was an elementalist like me. Now that I've held up my end of the deal, it's time for you to share your secret," Varence insisted.

"Your father was really an elementalist? That's surprising. But wait, I have another question. How is it that these mages recognize you?" Thorne asked, gesturing toward the unconscious mage.

Varence sighed at the question, "Those Kingsguard were actually some of my mentors. My father, a great man who passed away recently, he lived with me in that village before he gained prominence. I was there to bury him before you kidnapped me. Anyways, I was among the many students they privately tutored for powerful families, and I'm surprised they still remember me."

Thorne was visibly taken aback, but he inhaled deeply and then exhaled. "Alright, I'll fulfill my side of the bargain. When I was a child, I discovered another consciousness residing in my mind. As you might imagine, it was difficult to come to terms with. You've met my more aggressive side, haven't you? His name is Galen. Despite his brash and ungrateful nature, he is not only a part of me, but also an invaluable ally," Thorne confessed earnestly.

"So, all those times you ridiculed me, it was him?" Varence inquired.

"Uh, yeah. In fact, every time I've been rude to you," Thorne replied, smiling.

"Good luck maintaining that charade," Galen whispered to Thorne within their shared mind.

As Thorne and Varence prepared to leave the courtyard, Galen alerted Thorne, "I sense the mage from earlier, the one affected by your illusion spell, along with the group from the tavern, closing in on our location."

"Stop!" Thorne abruptly commanded, causing their progress to cease. Varence regarded Thorne with a bewildered expression. "Give me a moment; I need to consult with Galen," Thorne added hastily.

"Why would slavers want to help the kingdom?" Thorne questioned Galen, attempting to unravel the situation.

"Come on. I'm surprised I pieced this together before you, considering you're usually the clever one," Galen retorted.

"Ah, so the king is in league with the slavers, granting them privileges like enslaving people. Is that an accurate assessment, my friend?" Thorne queried Galen.

"My best guess, based on speculation and my expertise, is that the king is far from noble. He's sacrificed people to power his crystal and even sent his daughter to fight on the front lines," Galen stated.

"It doesn't matter right now. We're facing a precarious situation, and retreating might not be such a bad idea," Thorne suggested to Galen.

"Have you learned nothing from me? We don't retreat, even when the odds are stacked against us like this. I know you can devise a plan based on the information Varence provided. Trust me," Galen reassured Thorne.

"Besides, if we retreat now, the king could escape or rally more troops. This is our best opportunity," Galen added.

Uncertainty filled Thorne's thoughts as they evaluated their situation. With less than half their mana left, Thorne devised an ingenious plan, sparked by his conversation with Varence.

Quickly forming a plan, Thorne explained, "I'll use my remaining mana to cast invisibility on all of us but this relies on you being able to extend your illusion spell to cover us both. Theoretically, we'll be undetectable as long as we avoid making noise or giving ourselves away by scent. We can't risk the king's adversaries reaching him to bolster his defenses, so it's crucial we confront them now."

Varence thought deeply, then began to stutter, "I've never tried casting this spell on anyone but myself. I've had no reason to, nor do I know how."

"We either cast it or we die because we're not retreating," Thorne firmly decided. "Phantasmal Fade," he confidently uttered, casting the spell. Thorne, Varence, and the blonde mage all became invisible.

Varence stood there, looking bewildered.

"Are you going to cast it, or what? What are you waiting for?" Thorne snapped, unable to see or sense Varence. "Hold on a moment."

Varence resumed speaking, "As I tried to tell you, I have no idea how to cast this spell on others. It's an incantationless spell that I manifest within myself. How could I manifest it within you?" Varence inquired awkwardly.

Thorne quickly adapted his plan, "I'll pester you again to teach me this spell later. For now, Varence, do you know what this means? You'll have to take down a few of these mages yourself. I'll distract them by powering up, leaving them vulnerable to whatever attack you choose."

"No, wait! I've never killed anyone before. I don't know if I can bring myself to take someone's life," Varence admitted, dismayed.

"I had to restrain you from eliminating the last two mages! Are you serious? You lost control of your bowels because you were afraid of taking someone's life, rather than fearing for your own safety?" Thorne exclaimed, astonished.

"Wow, you're even more ruthless than I am," Galen remarked to Thorne.

"Our agreement was that you would never mention that incident again, and no, it was due to fear for my own life. You've already broken the deal in just a few minutes, you scoundrel!" Varence fumed, visibly upset.

"Firstly, these people are slavers. Their lives aren't worth defending. They represent the depths of human depravity. Eliminating them would genuinely benefit society, a fact even you should recognize. Secondly, I'll need proof that you didn't lose control of your bowels due to cowardice in the face of killing someone. Otherwise, I can't imagine respecting you," Thorne explained diplomatically.

"Fine, I'll eliminate them because they're slavers and they deserve it," Varence conceded, easily persuaded and ceasing further argument."I still have much to learn from the master," Galen admiringly said, impressed by Thorne's manipulative skills.