The Grand Duke's Soulmate
Chapter 82: A Dark Mage

Chapter 82: A Dark Mage

The sound of horses galloping came to a halt as the group reached the edge of a dark and unknown forest.

The eerie ambience was unsettling, with the occasional sound of strange creatures echoing throughout the atmosphere and the scent of rotten bark wafting in the air.

At his command, Brone, the burly and fierce-looking Bargesian leader, signalled for the group to pause their journey. They had yet to reach the Cassian border and were headed towards Gantz at Kaizer’s order.

He dismounted from his horse and cautiously moved a few steps forward, motioning for his group to stay back and wait for him.

As he surveyed his surroundings, his eyes were drawn to a marked tree. However, before he could investigate further, a hooded figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere, silently materialising before him. Brone was taken aback by the mysterious man’s sudden, dramatic appearance and tensed up.

"You startled me, you st*pid mage!" he shouted.

His voice was laced with irritation and surprise as he jumped back and instinctively reached for his weapon. If it wasn’t for his quick observation, he would’ve drawn out his scimitar and launched an attack on the man.

A shrill laugh escaped from the hooded figure as he pulled back his hood to reveal a sly grin.

"Why... Is the most notorious Barges warrior easily scared now?" teased the mage, who appeared to be a man who looked like he was in his fifties with a wrinkled face, dark, hollow eyes, and messy grey hair.

Brone scowled at the man, his pride stung by the insinuation. "Of course not! What do you think I am?" he rebuked.

"Then why did you get startled so easily?" the mage asked, his tone amused.

"Because you showed up out of thin air! I couldn’t even hear a sound," Brone retorted.

"That’s the power of magic," the mage replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"F*ck your magic! Without that ability, you would be worth nothing compared to me," Brone hissed, his confidence returning as he regained his composure.

"Shut up! You are in no position to query my status!" growled the mage.

Brone grunted at the man’s reply.

"What do you want? Why did you ask to meet me here? It’s risky. Kaizer could’ve had his men tailing me. That b*stard cannot be trusted," he scoffed.

"His Majesty expressed his concern when you mentioned going north," the mage said indignantly.

"There’s nothing to worry about! The useless barrier is no longer there, and we can enter their land without problems," replied Brone nonchalantly.

"His concern is not the long-gone barrier. It’s the Northern Warriors! Your presence would attract their attention, and if they discover our true intent, it could ruin His Majesty’s plan," warned the mage.

"Calm down," Brone said, his voice steady despite the tension raised by the mage.

"Don’t get too worked up. I already have a plan of my own." He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his head with poise.

"The Cassians wouldn’t be able to touch me since I’m Ardel’s ambassador and on an official visit," he added.

The mage raised an eyebrow sceptically, showing the weight of his scrutiny. "They would’ve known you’re a Bargesian just with a glance," he squinted his eyes at the Bargesian leader.

Brone’s lips curled into a disparaging smile.

"So what? I could’ve spun a tale or two. That’s what I do best," he replied, dismissing the mage’s concerns as trivial.

"His Majesty wants me to follow as well, just to be sure," said the mage.

"You?! Of all people, why should it be you?" Brone complained. "You would only interfere with my plan! Shouldn’t you be in your tower and doing your work? Chanting some magics or throwing some remedies into your boiling pot to make some potions?" teased the Bargesian leader.

The mage gritted his teeth angrily and yelled, "Don’t mock my job! If it wasn’t for me, the dark magic wouldn’t have been able to be revived!"

"Tchk...!" Brone clicked his tongue in annoyance. "So what has your dark magic achieved so far, huh? At least I got Ardel in my hand now!" he sneered.

The mage grinned, relishing in the Bargesian leader’s confusion. "You didn’t know, did you?" he taunted, savouring the moment. "I have managed to replicate one of the curses of the last Ro’an’s Emperor," he boasted arrogantly.

Brone’s forehead creased with concern as he asked cautiously, "You don’t mean the Laradie plague, do you?"

The mage’s smile grew even wider, clearly pleased with himself. "That’s the one! No one will suspect that it’s dark magic cast by me. Instead, they’ll believe the emperor’s wrath still looms over the land," he explained, his tone smug and self-satisfied.

Brone’s expression shifted instantly, his eyes narrowing with alarm. "Don’t tell me you’ve already unleashed it," he demanded, his voice tinged with urgency.

"I’ve had the cast item put into one of the remote caves in Cassian, near the border of Dracor, to avoid rousing suspicion. It’s for testing purposes. We’ll soon know the outcome," he said excitedly.

"You fool!" Brone exclaimed, his voice rising with anger. "I stole that idea from Kaizer and explicitly told you to wait until we obtain the new formula before taking any action! If the plague spreads wildly like before, it will backfire on us!"

"I need to show some results to His Majesty! We have accumulated the dark magic force from the virgins’ sacrifices for years! Besides, we’ve got the distributed drugs formula and the professors you kidnapped to establish the cure. Right now, the drug is being mass-produced in Barges. What’s there to worry about?" countered the mage.

"We can’t risk weakening our army if the plague spreads, you idi*t! How will I wage war and conquer the continent for His Majesty with a weakened military force? Even with the cure, it’ll take time for them to recover! I need them fully armed and strong!"

Fueled by anger and frustration, Brone seized the mage by his robe, hoisting him into the air.

In a panic, the mage flicked his hand, unleashing magic that caused a surge of excruciating pain to course through Brone’s arms. His veins bulged and turned an alarming shade of blue, and it crawled towards his shoulders while sweat beaded on his forehead from the intensity of the agony.

"Argh... you b*stard!" Brone growled, thrusting the mage’s body to the ground and releasing his grip when he couldn’t withstand the intense pain. As the magic subsided and his arm returned to its original state, he glared down at the mage with a simmering rage.

"If it wasn’t for His Majesty, I swear I would kill you one of these days!" he cursed.

"Don’t you dare mess with me, Brone!" the mage spat out, his voice laced with venom. "My strength may not match yours, but my magic can do things beyond your wildest imagination. You would do well to remember that," he warned him instead.

Brone sneered at the mage, his eyes narrowing with contempt.

"Oh, please," he taunted. "As if I’m supposed to be scared of your cheap magic tricks. Keep using them, and you’ll be nothing but a withered old man before you know it."

He gestured towards the mage’s haggard appearance.

"Just take a look at you now. You don’t even look half as young as me. You’re nothing but a sickly old man."

The mage bristled at Brone’s insults.

"Shut up!" he shouted, his voice trembling with anger as he stood up in arrogance. "I’ll be young and vibrant again once I consume the blood of the Ro’an Emperor’s direct descendant. You’ll be amazed at my true form!"

Brone scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "As if that’s ever going to happen," he retorted. "Most Ro’an descendants were slaughtered in the Great War, and the rest fled with the foolish Empress. You’ve been searching for them for years, yet you haven’t found any trace of them."

The mage’s expression darkened, and a heavy silence descended upon them.

"One of them was in Ardel," he suddenly said in his low voice.

Brone’s eyebrow arched with interest. The mage’s statement had piqued his curiosity. For years, he had been fascinated by the Ro’an’s direct descendants, rumoured to possess unparalleled combat skills and prodigious magical abilities, not to mention their legendary beauty.

Above all else, he longed to test their strength in a fight, to see if the tales of their prowess were genuine or merely exaggerated myths.

"Where exactly? I didn’t see anyone matching their appearance when I raided the land," asked the Bargesian leader.

"I don’t know," the mage admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I could sense it when I went to Ardel’s castle. Unfortunately, it seemed that the person had already left when I got there," he said.

Brone shot a sharp glare at the mage. "You went to Ardel’s castle? When and what for?"

"It was during your rampage and killing spree, right after the rebellion orchestrated by your accomplice, the greedy Ardel’s Prime Minister," he replied. "I was there on orders from His Majesty to observe your progress."

"You could’ve been caught!"

"Don’t underestimate me. I’m good at stealth," replied the mage.

"You didn’t need to come! I don’t need anyone to supervise me!" Brone declared, his tone dissatisfied. "You can tell that to His Majesty."

The mage bristled at the Bargesian leader’s dismissive tone.

"Hey, I was just following his orders," he retorted in a defensive voice.

"Fine!" Brone muttered impatiently. "Did you manage to trace the person?"

The mage shook his head. His expression was crestfallen.

"No, I wasn’t able to locate them. But I have this lingering feeling that they’re still somewhere on the continent. The sense is faint, but it’s there. I just can’t figure out where they are," he expressed in frustration.

"So, you’re planning on going on a tour to find this person?" Brone guessed, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

"I’m playing my cards," the mage replied. "If I move around, perhaps I can pick up on their presence again."

Brone groaned in frustration, knowing the mage would inevitably accompany his delegation to Cassian.

"What a nuisance," he muttered under his breath.

Ignoring the complaint, the mage said, "I also need to know whether the Laradie plague has spread." He paused, then added, "If it has, their kingdom would be in an uproar by now."

"Just pray it doesn’t affect my team!" warned Brone.

"There’s no need to worry about your team’s well-being. I have the cure with me," the mage reassured the Bargesian leader, patting a bottle tied to his waist beneath his robe.

"Fine, you can come with us," Brone grunted, his annoyance palpable. "Now I have no choice but to ensure the new formula works."

The mage looked puzzled.

"Is the new formula really that important? We already have the cure," he questioned.

"Of course it is!" Brone exclaimed. "Those who consume it will have everlasting immunity against Laradie. Imagine the advantage that it would give to our army."

The mage’s eyes widened in amazement.

"That means they won’t be sick at all! While other kingdoms are becoming chaotic due to the plague, we won’t be affected. Victory will be on our side," he replied excitedly.

"Now you’re reading my mind. That’s why I asked you to wait. Your reckless action could have jeopardised my plan."

"D*mn it! If you had told me earlier, I wouldn’t have resorted to that," the mage grumbled.

"I have to be vigilant," Brone replied sternly. "It’s not easy to send out information to Barges. Kaizer’s eyes and ears are everywhere. A traitor should never be trusted."

"You’re right," the mage conceded. "Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!"

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