I Am A Wizard Who Can Travel Between Earth And The Other World
Chapter 85 - 87 The Battle for Dominion

The potential contract promised unprecedented stability—enough to secure Runewright's future for at least a decade.

Yet this opportunity came at a cost: a race against time and competition, forcing the workshop to hastily hire new, untested hands.

Under the pressure, Runewright's leader, Walter, made a difficult decision.

Though the workshop typically conducted rigorous background checks and assessments—essential due to the risk of magical secrets being leaked—circumstances left no room for caution.

The new recruits were assigned only to minor stages of production, while veteran artisans focused on critical tasks. Still, unseen eyes lurked in the shadows, waiting for a single crack in Runewright's defenses.

One of those shadows belonged to Peter.

He sat in a dimly lit corner of his workshop, tablet in hand, scanning fragmented sulsik scripts. "They've broken the runes into countless shards," he muttered with a trace of admiration. Fragmenting the magic formula was a common defense against theft, but this was on another level entirely. For weeks, Peter had infiltrated the ranks of Runewright's newly hired staff, carefully gathering pieces of the shield's sulsik. Despite his best efforts, key fragments eluded him—ones entrusted only to the workshop's most loyal artisans.

"They've thought this through," Peter murmured. It was time to change tactics.

He would now have to target the veterans, those who had been with Runewright for years. Money alone might not sway them, but Peter was resourceful.

There were always other ways to loosen stubborn lips.

As he pondered his next move, he glanced at a magical artifact known as the sulsik scanner, a relic capable of analyzing enchanted inscriptions.

It was rare but not unheard of, and West Ham—a city notorious for its black-market trade in magical goods—boasted not one but three such scanners.

One of them belonged to a secretive group known as the Dark Workshop. If anyone could rival Runewright, it was them.

Meanwhile, Peter's fragmented sulsik was slowly reconstructed using a custom app, developed in the depths of West Ham's underbelly.

The app could calculate and test combinations of runes automatically, piecing together magical formulas like a complex puzzle. "Almost there," Peter whispered, estimating that only two pieces were missing.

He set out once more, determined to complete his task.

Two days later, he succeeded.

In a grand, candlelit hall adorned with arcane symbols, a man named Abby reviewed the sulsik on his tablet.

A sly grin crept across his face as he confirmed the final sequence.

"This... is the complete formula for the shield, correct?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," came the response from one of his subordinates.

"And the test results?"

"Currently underway, though it wasn't easy. The sulsik was designed to activate only within a shield identical to Runewright's."

Abby chuckled in admiration. "Impressive. Such precision is beyond me."

Though a powerful sorcerer himself, Abby excelled in raw destructive magic rather than delicate enchantment work. He left the fine details to skilled technicians and enchanted devices. "And the outcome?" he pressed.

"Success, sir. It's flawless."

Abby's grin widened. "Good. It's time to approach the city officials. The government has already shown interest. We need to act swiftly."

His subordinate offered, "Should I apply a little... persuasion?"

"No need. We've done enough of that. It's clear who they'll choose when both Runewright and I present identical shields. The decision will favor us."

The subordinate nodded in agreement. Abby, however, had no intention of using the name of the Dark Workshop.

His dealings with the city's surface world were always under the alias of Shine Workshop. It was an old but effective ruse.

"Prepare the workshop for a grand display," Abby ordered. "Soon, we'll show the world who truly commands this craft."

As his subordinate bowed and left, Abby's gaze darkened with anticipation. "I can't wait to see their faces," he whispered to himself. The thought of Runewright's defeat, of their hopes crumbling into despair, was a delight he intended to savor.

Elsewhere, a man named Gin prepared for a meeting with Owen, an influential figure shrouded in mystery. Gathering information was straightforward—he entrusted the task to a trusted investigator named Jay, who reluctantly agreed after confirming that he wouldn't need to spy, only research.

Gin, ever curious, also searched through exclusive magical networks. To his surprise, Owen's name appeared frequently, entangled in both legend and rumor.

Owen was far more renowned than Gin had anticipated.

The Family Owen was no ordinary lineage.

They were a vassal to one of the Five Great Houses, legendary families whose influence stretched like a vast web throughout the major cities. Each Great House governed numerous vassal families, and these vassals, in turn, held dominion over countless subordinate clans.

The power wielded by these vassals was immense, for they enforced the will of the Five Great Houses and commanded authority within their cities. Though their reach rarely extended beyond city walls, within their domains they were titans of wealth, magic, and political might.

It became evident just how formidable Owen's lineage truly was.

'Odd... No one ever mentions the names of the Five Great Houses. Not a single reference anywhere.'

Gin had sought answers from his investigator, Jay, who was equally in the dark. The elusive Great Houses were shrouded in secrecy, their names and identities hidden behind a veil of enigma. Despite this, Owen had stood out as a prodigy within the renowned Owen family, with rumors circulating that even the Great Houses held high expectations for him.

There was no hard evidence to support this claim—just whispers and speculation—but it was enough to pique Gin's curiosity.

As he pondered these thoughts, Gin stood at the entrance of a grand hotel, awaiting the arrival of the car Owen had promised. Moments later, a sleek, jet-black sedan rolled to a stop in front of him. The driver stepped out, exuding a powerful magical presence that made Gin's senses sharpen.

"Greetings, Mage Gin. I am here to escort you to the young master," the driver said, bowing politely and opening the car door.

Gin, unused to such formal treatment, hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. Once the door shut, the car glided forward with an almost ethereal smoothness. Gin sank into the plush seat, his curiosity stirring as he discreetly scanned the vehicle with his magic.

He discovered numerous enchanted components integrated throughout the car—some functioning independently, others synchronized with electronic systems. It was a fascinating blend of arcane craftsmanship and modern engineering.

Time passed quickly as Gin occupied himself studying the vehicle's magical mechanisms.

Soon, the car turned onto a road unlike any Gin had ever seen before. He peered out the window, taking in the surroundings. The wide, four-lane road was eerily quiet, with barely any other vehicles in sight. At the road's entrance stood two towering trees, their immense trunks so wide that it would take half a dozen grown men holding hands to encircle them. They reached nearly five meters into the air, their dense foliage concealing whatever lay beyond.

But Gin's keen senses detected what was hidden within. Behind the trees were sentries—elite guards armed with magic-infused firearms.

Among them were two mages, one stationed at each tree.

Their magical cores resonated at the formidable fourth circle, and their auras were dense and refined, indicating exceptional control over their powers.

These were no ordinary enforcers.

As the car passed the checkpoint, the road stretched onward, lined by pristine, architecturally uniform buildings.

It was a masterfully designed district, each structure positioned with meticulous precision. A short drive later, they reached a crossroads where high stone walls extended into the distance on either side. Gin guessed that beyond those walls lay expansive estates belonging to the city's most influential figures.

The car continued straight, passing several more intersections before finally reaching its destination—a mansion situated deep within the district's heart.

The car slowed to a halt after nearly ten minutes of traversing the estate grounds.