The other side of the Transmission Stone fell silent for a moment.
Then.
The manager's voice became a bit hesitant.
“Well… Madam…”
“About the person's identity… I hope you won't mind…”
Freya was taken aback.
“What identity?”
The other party remained silent for a few more seconds.
It seemed as if they were weighing their words.
Finally, they spoke truthfully.
“He is a wandering mage.”
Freya leaned back on the sofa.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
A hint of speechlessness colored her tone.
“Don't worry, I don't harbor that inexplicable prejudice.”
“Bring him over.”
The Transmission Stone cut off.
She held the stone as its light faded.
For some reason.
A trace of unease welled up in her heart for no clear reason.
A wandering mage…
She furrowed her brow.
Why did she have a sense of déjà vu?
She shook her head.
She dismissed the thought from her mind.
Standing up.
She walked to the entryway.
She picked up the plain white mask from the cabinet and placed it over her face.
Then she threw on a bulky grey cloak.
She pulled the hood down, covering her long ice-blue hair.
She stood before the mirror for a moment.
She confirmed there were no flaws.
Then.
She sat back down on the sofa.
She waited.
Minutes and seconds ticked by.
The room was very quiet.
There was only the extremely faint humming sound emitted by the magic glowstones.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knocking sound echoed.
Three times, neither too light nor too heavy.
The manager's voice came from outside the door.
“Madam, I have brought the gentleman.”
Freya stood up.
She walked to the door.
To tell the truth.
She was indeed quite curious.
A wandering mage who could cast Levitation with a four-second chant.
What would they look like?
She reached out.
She gripped the doorknob.
Click.
The door opened.
She looked up.
From behind the eyeholes of the plain white mask.
Her azure eyes.
Met a pair of black eyes.
A pair of familiar, calm, black eyes devoid of any unnecessary emotion.
And that black hair.
That grey mage robe that was washed until it turned pale, with severe wear at the elbows.
That simple, unadorned oak staff.
And that face.
A face that made her want to disappear on the spot right now.
Bang!
The door was slammed shut.
The sound was so loud that the dust on the doorframe rattled down.
Freya stood behind the door.
Her hand was still in the position of having just slammed the door.
Her entire person was frozen there.
Motionless.
Behind the plain white mask.
Those azure eyes were wide open.
Her pupils contracted slightly.
She was dazed for a long time.
Then.
She reached out and supported her forehead.
She gave two dry laughs.
The sound filtered through the mask, muffled and carrying a hint of a tremble.
“No, no, no…”
“It's impossible for him to be here.”
“It must be a hallucination.”
The Dark Tide had been born from the borderlands, heading north and cutting off the paths between the Blackwater Corridor and the east.
In theory, that little mage, who had genuinely amazed even her, should still be in the Blackwater Corridor.
It was impossible for him to appear in Coppergate City.
She must have seen wrong.
She took a deep breath.
She reached out.
She gripped the doorknob again.
Click.
The door opened a crack.
She leaned in.
She peered out through the gap.
That grey figure was still standing there.
Black hair, black eyes.
That mage robe washed until pale.
That simple oak staff.
He even tilted his head slightly.
As if he were confirming who was behind the azure eyes peering through the door crack.
Bang!
The door was slammed shut again.
It was even louder than before.
Freya turned around.
She leaned her back against the door panel.
Her chest was heaving violently.
The face behind the mask was already burning so hot it felt as if it were about to emit smoke.
From her neck all the way to her ears, up to her forehead.
She raised her hand and pressed down on the mask.
It was as if she wanted to press it into her face.
Her mind was a complete blank.
Only a single thought was spinning frantically.
I can't let him know.
I absolutely cannot let him know.
She, Freya, the leader of the North Wind transport team, a Mid-tier Legendary ice and wind dual-element Mage.
The former Wind Tower Master candidate, the champion of the Magic Conference, the youngest Legendary magic genius.
Disguised like this, hiding in a place like this.
Secretly trying to learn a Novice Magic spell.
And failing to learn the damn thing.
She absolutely could not let him know.
Her gaze scanned the room frantically.
The window.
The window was open.
She broke into a stride.
She moved toward the window.
Her pace was very fast, almost a run.
As long as she climbed out that window.
As long as she left this place.
As long as—
Click.
The door behind her.
Opened.
She froze.
Her footsteps stopped abruptly.
She turned her head slowly, extremely stiffly.
The door crack widened bit by bit.
The light from the magic glowstones filtered in from the corridor.
It cast a long, narrow shadow on the carpet.
Inside that shadow.
A silhouette was slowly lengthening.
Then.
That grey figure.
Squeezed in through the door crack.
Black hair, black eyes.
Grey mage robe, oak staff.
He stood in the entryway.
He looked at the scene inside the room.
He looked at that dark sofa.
He looked at the cloak thrown on the cabinet.
He looked at that plain white mask.
Finally.
His gaze fell by the window.
It landed on that hooded figure in a grey cloak who had one leg across the windowsill and was preparing to climb out and escape.
A small lock of long ice-blue hair had escaped from the edge of the hood.
Under the light of the magic glowstones, it shimmered with a faint cold glow.
Time seemed to freeze.
Freya remained in that posture.
One leg hooked over the windowsill.
One hand bracing the frame.
Her body leaning forward slightly.
She turned her head.
She looked at that grey figure in terror.
She watched him enter the room.
She watched him raise his hand.
He pulled the door shut behind him.
Click.
The sound of the latch falling into the frame.
In this deathly silent room.
It was exceptionally clear.
Her pupils contracted sharply.
That look.
It didn't seem like she was looking at an acquaintance.
It seemed like she was looking at a criminal who had broken in with ill intent and then locked the door behind them.
She opened her mouth.
She wanted to say something.
But her throat only emitted an indistinct syllable.
Meanwhile, Lin Gui.
It was as if he didn't recognize her at all.
He stood in the entryway.
His hands hung at his sides.
He bowed slightly.
He performed a standard, flawless mage’s salute.
Then he straightened up.
His black eyes looked calmly at the frozen figure by the window.
His tone was flat and respectful.
“Hello, Madam.”
“I am the wizard who has come in response to your commission to train you in Levitation.”
He paused for a moment.
“Can we… begin?”
Freya stared at him blankly.
She looked at his calm face, which was devoid of any ripples.
She looked at those black eyes, which held no hint of a smile.
She looked at his respectful posture, which was beyond reproach.
As if.
He really didn't recognize her.
As if.
She was merely a client who had posted a commission whom he had never met before.
Her lips moved.
Before she could even react.
Lin Gui raised his hand.
He gave a casual wave.
No chant.
No incantation.
No preceding fluctuations of mana.
The oak staff in his hand.
Simply slid out of his palm like that.
It suspended itself in mid-air.
The body of the staff was steady, remaining motionless.
It was about half a meter off the ground.
It stayed there quietly.
Like a gentle, tamed bird.
Freya's gaze.
Shifted from Lin Gui's face.
To that staff.
Then from the staff.
It shifted back to Lin Gui's face.
Behind the plain white mask.
Those azure eyes.
Widened bit by bit.
Deep in her pupils, the floating staff was reflected.
The black-haired, black-eyed mage with the calm expression was reflected.
Her mind.
Was a complete blank.
All thoughts, all panic, all the impulses to flee.
In this instant.
They were all crushed to pieces by a single term.
Chantless.
Rate on N.U.
