50 years ago, Emperor Deutua VIII of the Golden Empire signed and issued the Sorcerers' Edict.

The edict's purpose was to elevate sorcerers, as custodians of knowledge and spokespersons for wisdom, to a position of high esteem as the most refined beings in humankind.

With the edict's backing, the status of sorcerers was raised to unprecedented heights.

Among them, sorcerers who were officially recognized by the Sorcerers' Guild, the Temples, and the Lords were granted especially exalted positions.

No one, including Lords, could unduly restrict the personal freedoms of an officially recognized sorcerer, lightly harm their physical well-being, or insult their dignity. Instead, they must treat officially recognized sorcerers with deference and provide them with appropriate living conditions.

The quarters of the Silvermoon Sorcerers' Guild amply illustrated the deferential treatment official sorcerers received from Lords.

To Rosen, it was nothing short of a magnificent palace.

The spotless granite floors, the sturdy yet ornate marble columns, the masterfully crafted bas-reliefs on the walls, and the imposing grandeur of the main hall all bespoke a luxury far beyond mundane means.

And that was without even considering the people walking through the palace.

Their seemingly modest yet secretly opulent robes, the cat's eye moonlight stones as big as eggs, the robin's egg-sized sapphires... Or the aloof, condescending glances looking down on others, as if to say:

"Take note, common folk. Within these sumptuous halls lie the most refined, most noble beings in the mortal realm!"

Even the veteran knight Xabolei bowed his head like a quail, not daring to display the slightest hint of bravado here.

As an official sorceress, Celandine took out her sorcerer's insignia from her pocket.

Forged from pure spellgold, the insignia had an elegant pale purple hue denoting her as a mid-ranked official sorceress.

The edge was further studded with 12 pea-sized flawless blue sapphires, signifying her 12-star spellcasting abilities.

Pinning it to her chest instantly transformed her ragged beggar's clothes into singularly stylish garments.

And the disdainful glances cast her way shifted into looks of admiration.

As for Rosen, the opulence of the Sorcerers' Guild impressed him, but being naturally modest, his outward behavior changed little regardless of his surroundings.

The main hall was a hive of activity, bustling with people coming and going, rivaling the Southside Market.

Rosen noticed most were unofficial sorcerers, clutching manuscripts - likely here to take examinations.

This illustrated the prestige of officially recognized sorcerers, with competition surely intense.

Rosen thought to himself: "It's like the civil service exams from my old world."

A young man in aquamarine silk sorcerer's robes approached the trio after they entered the hall.

"The arcane arts require focus. Idle visitors keep out. Do you have prior appointments?"

Xabolei shrank back deferentially, leaving Celandine to take the lead.

Naturally unfazed, she softly replied: "Master Firama, I have urgent business with the Guildmaster."

As a mid-ranked sorceress with freakishly potent abilities, while the young man before her had only recently been promoted to a low-ranked official sorcerer, his insignia bearing merely four small spellgold stars.

Despite the vast discrepancy in their apparel's quality, the sheer difference in arcane accomplishments compelled him to bow his head.

"My apologies, Madam Celandine."

Firama respectfully performed the junior sorcerer's bow, then looked puzzled.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"If I recall correctly, you were recently implicated in a gruesome serial murder case, the prime suspect even?"

Celandine shook her head. "There have been new developments. The City Watch cleared me of prime suspect status and rescinded the wanted order."

"I can vouch for that," Xabolei weakly added.

"I see. My mistake then."

Firama stepped aside, gesturing ahead. "Please follow me. Guildmaster Ferren is busy, so let me notify him first and seek his counsel."

"Thank you for your trouble."

The trio followed Firama through the magnificent halls, up pristine marble stairs to the top floor, then down a spacious brightly-lit corridor, finally entering a lavishly furnished room.

Once inside, Rosen discreetly surveyed the layout - plush carpets, cozy hearth, huge windows, an enormous black jade rosewood carved desk, and the white-haired elder seated behind it.

Seeing the man, Celandine immediately knelt in the junior sorcerer's bow and addressed him: "Guildmaster Ferren."

Xabolei also performed the knight's salute, so Rosen followed his mentor's lead with the junior bow.

He sneakily eyed the insignia on the man's chest during the bow.

Twinkling with deep purple fragmented starlight, seemingly forged from an exceedingly rare fallen star metal, the edge set with 16 sapphires denoting 15-star abilities.

"A formidable high-tier 15-star sorcerer. Impressive, though my mentor probably surpasses 20 stars yet displays only 12, likely also hiding her strength."

Meanwhile, Ferren nodded in acknowledgment, his penetrating gaze slowly sweeping over them before settling on Rosen, specifically the crescent moon staff in his hand.

A kindly smile spread on his face.

"Ah, Silvermoon's proudest and most solitary genius spellcaster has finally found herself a successor?"

His words held a teasing warmth, as if bantering with a junior.

Celandine smiled wistfully. "Indeed. The intricacies of spellcraft are boundless and endless. After long pursuit, I've realized I am no chosen one, merely a slightly brighter star among countless others in the heavens."

"Hoh hoh hoh," Ferren chuckled benevolently before his expression turned serious.

"Celandine, I never believed those murder rumors about you, but I must respect the evidence. Tell me, how did you end up mired in such scandal?"

Celandine gathered herself and recounted her recent experiences.

Beside her, Rosen listened intently without missing any details.

It turned out shortly after the murders began, Celandine sensed something amiss but was too absorbed in spell research to heed it.

Only after realizing someone sought to frame her did she start nocturnal trips to uncover the hidden culprit.

And it was during one such outing that she crossed paths with the investigative Xabolei, leading to the ensuing misunderstandings.

After hearing her account, Ferren asked, "I've also looked into this case. Regarding the evidence found in your quarters, how do you explain it?"

Celandine looked to her student. "I cannot explain it, but I trust my apprentice was present throughout. He can."

"Interesting."

Ferren regarded Rosen.

Unfazed, Rosen stepped forward and stated confidently: "It was planted. I have two pieces of evidence."

"First, I personally saw my mentor's room that day, and those suspicious vials were absent. Second, fresh footprints from the uncleaned windowsill."

He omitted the fingerprint details, unsure of this world's forensic capabilities.

"Intriguing. The first evidence is too subjective since you're her apprentice, so it's inadmissible. As for the second, how exactly does it prove anything?"

Rosen was prepared: "When I arrived, the mud on the sill wasn't fully dried. I specifically tested and found similar drying conditions during winter nights take 20 to 35 minutes. My mentor wasn't present in the cottage during that timeframe, providing an alibi."

A solid absence of evidence defense, adequately establishing Celandine's innocence.

Ferren clapped. "Astute observation and complete trust in your mentor. I'm starting to understand your choice, Celandine."

Celandine also seemed pleased. "Does this clear my suspicions, Guildmaster Ferren?"

Ferren nodded. "The moment the true culprit appears, your name will be cleared. Cooperate with the City Watch's inquiries as an official sorceress still has a duty to uphold order."

"As you wish, Guildmaster." Celandine nodded.

"Well, this murder case no longer involves you. I'm rather tired, so I'll take my leave."

"Of course. Thank you for your time."

The three bowed respectfully again before exiting Ferren's office one by one.

Only after leaving the Sorcerers' Guild did the quail-like Xabolei finally exhale deeply.

"Whew... Those sorcerers always look at others with undisguised disdain. Makes me antsy."

Celandine glanced his way. "To be precise, they look at you with disdain. My apprentice and I are excluded."

Xabolei awkwardly laughed. "Yeah... Sorry about last night. Seeing you standing over the corpse with a bloody knife, I jumped to conclusions."

Celandine shook her head. "No need to apologize. It wasn't your fault. While examining the knife, the scene did appear suspicious, likely deliberately staged by the true culprit."

Xabolei nodded in understanding, then looked puzzled. "Why go through so much trouble to frame you though?"

Celandine shrugged. "Who knows? Let's leave this matter for now. I'm tired, Rosen, shall we head back?"

Rosen promptly appeared. "Back to the Hounds' Den or our cottage, mentor?"

"Our cottage, of course. I'm confident my beloved apprentice can swiftly restore order, yes?"

"Of course, mentor."

Celandine smiled dazzlingly at Xabolei and waved farewell.

"Thanks again. You've brought me a truly outstanding apprentice."

Xabolei was left dazed and starry-eyed, temporarily tongue-tied.

Meanwhile, the mentor-disciple pair walked silently for a bit before Rosen broke the silence.

"Mentor, the true culprit is Veronica, correct?"

He was indoors while Celandine was outside then, so she likely saw the killer.

Celandine nodded slightly. "Yes, her."

Rosen asked again: "What does mentor plan to do about this?"

"Naturally, make her pay the price. But rash actions aren't a sorceress' style. We must first deeply understand our foe before deciding on specific measures."

She paused, then regarded Rosen.

"Also, my beloved apprentice's astounding progress far exceeds my expectations. I should properly get to know him too."