Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe
Chapter 933 - 933: Pursuit of Arcana

To avoid drawing attention, Rowan stopped the caravan near the marketplace, giving others the impression that it contained goods and not ghastly injured people on the run.

He turned to Carla and spoke softly, his voice laced with slight nervousness. "You stay here, okay? I'll go make some arrangements."

The woman clutched at his sleeves, her eyes slightly tearing up. "But… what if there are those people out there?"

Rowan gently placed his hand on hers. He smiled warmly, comforting her. "Nothing's going to happen. I promise you."

He turned to the back and lifted the curtains of the caravan. Inside, his children lay huddled in one corner, shivering beneath thin blankets.

Anna and Ada lay unconscious on the floor, their faces deathly pale. He and his wife had done their best to administer first aid to the grievously injured Magi.

Nearby, Kaqsper York sat slumped against the wooden board, though he wasn't faring much better. Both of his hands were covered in blood-soaked bandages.

Only Daryl retained a sliver of consciousness, though just barely. Drenched in sweat, he turned towards the front of the caravan and caught Rowan's gaze.

"Have we… reached the port town?" He asked weakly.

"Yes, my lord!" The middle-aged butler nodded, offering a hopeful smile. "I'm heading to the harbor to see which vessel departs immediately. I'll speak with the captain and secure passage for all of us."

Daryl deeply looked at him for a few moments. He couldn't help but sigh heavily. All his life, he had looked down upon mortals, thinking they were beneath him, not worthy of his attention.

Yet, now a mortal was putting his—as well as his family's—life on the line to ensure their safety.

Daryl's heart churned with emotions. If it wasn't for Rowan and Carla, perhaps none of them would have made it out of the narrow pass.

He didn't even know where the butler had managed to get this caravan from. He only knew that the man had disappeared for almost an hour, then returned with his caravan, making it extremely convenient for the whole party to travel.

Daryl's eyes flashed with gratitude, and he weakly muttered, "Rowan… you are a good man. Thank you..."

Rowan smiled. "I'm just doing my duty, my lord."

Daryl didn't say anything further. He reached for the ring on his finger, rubbed its surface a few times, seemingly searching for something inside.

The next moment, a bulging leather pouch appeared in his hand. Passing it over to Rowan, he added, "Acadian gold… all of it. It should help you."

Rowan didn't hesitate. He knew they would lead a large amount of money to sail discreetly to the Southern Federation.

He grabbed the leather pouch and put it away. "I'll be back as soon as possible, my lord."

With that said, he offered a few words of caution to his wife before stepping down from the caravan and making his way towards the harbor.

***

Ravenfell.

Standing atop the spire of a clock tower in Downtown Quarter, the Master gazed at the sprawling cityscape with an unreadable expression on his face.

The hems of his robes fluttered in the breeze, and his face was still concealed in the shadows of his hood.

He gazed at the skyline of this beautiful, gothic city, which would soon be burning in flames.

Framed by the twin moons and the starry sky, the Master's silhouette appeared enigmatic and mysterious.

He raised his hand, gesturing at the city that lay before him, and recited a beautiful poem:

"Hello again, my childhood streets,

"Where laughter dies, and pain repeats.

"I built my dreams on blood and stone,

"But now I stand… cold and alone.

"No tears remain, no love to save,

"I'll burn it all, and curse the grave.

"Hello again, old streets I once called mine,

"Now watch me light your final shine."

The Master lowered his hand and closed his eyes. Feeling the gentle, cool breeze brush against his face, he felt refreshed.

He gazed at the cityscape again, his eyes flashing with a peculiar light. In the end, he sighed. Raising his head and looking at the starry sky, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath:

"I must be willing to sacrifice everything… even my life. For in my pursuit of arcana, everything and everyone else will hold me down. Attachments are burdens, and only by casting them aside can I ascend beyond all others…"

He reached out for the stars, as if grasping a handful of them in his clenched fist. His gaze seemingly pierced the firmament as he spoke softly, his voice filled with quiet yearning:

"One day…"

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. He lowered his head and saw a skeletal worm climb towards his ear.

It was the messenger.

It whispered its message into the Master's ears before scuttling away.

The mysterious robed figure remained silent for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed in utter amusement.

The sound of his laughter drifted through the cool breeze before vanishing into the night sky.

After a long time, he finally calmed down. He turned towards the Uptown Quarter, more specifically in the direction of Constantine Estate.

"If I can scheme against others, others can naturally scheme against me," he said with a smile, his eyes flickering with admiration.

"But I never took you for someone who would gamble with your sister's life. Oh, Adam, I expected a deceitful man who calculated every move, leaving nothing to chance, yet you've proven me wrong."

He paused, his lips curling into a cold smirk.

"But I suppose, doing something that defies one's expectations is, in its own way, also a form of deception."

The messenger had just informed the Master that there had been, in fact, no elaborate plans set up by the Twilight Brotherhood to deal with the cultists outside Ravenfell earlier today.

His spy within the Brotherhood had confirmed that the organization wasn't even aware of Anna Fireborne's departure and the battle that took place subsequently.

In short, the Master realized that Adam had been bluffing all along!

Thinking back to how confident Adam had been earlier while taunting him, the Master's expression gradually twisted into one of fierce anger.

"Fine then," he coldly muttered.

"Time to unleash the hounds on your sister."

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