The Legendary Mage (Alavin)
Chapter 55

In the midst of arranging the day's activities, a middle-aged Protégé was about to take charge when a handsome young man briskly stepped forward with a smile. "Allow me to take care of this." "And you are...?" Marak asked, his tone haughty as he glanced at the youth.

"I am Elite Protégé, Tyral!" Tyral said with a beaming smile, though in truth, he had not yet achieved the status of an Elite Protégé, especially after the untimely demise of his sister Nysah. It was even less likely that Elder Jaslin would take him on as an Elite Protégé now.

"Elite Protégé? You seem rather average to me," Marak scoffed.

"I am hardly worthy to compare with you, Lord Marak" Tyral retorted, which drew the ire of many Protégés.

Marak was quite pleased, however. "Show me around. Let me see the sights of Cobalt Strike order."

"By your leave," Tyral said, cheerfully extending his hand to lead the way.

Since Marak had made his choice, the middle-aged Protégé could hardly replace him now. He shot Tyral a warning look, signaling him to be a good host and not to let the reputation of Cobalt Strike order be diminished.

In the great hall of the order, the Commander's face was expressionless. "We're alone now. Speak plainly. There's no need for pretense between us."

"I just wanted to catch up a bit with you."

"Spare me!"

"Heh, very well, we can reminisce another time. Let's get to the matter at hand. I am here on behalf of Lord Viperbane, hoping to arrange a favorable union."

"Let's hear it then."

"Lord Marak is Lord Viperbane's youngest and most cherished son. At sixteen, he has already reached the Stage VIII of the Novice Mage. His talents are remarkable, and with the resources of Lord Viperbane behind him, his future achievements will be limitless. Lord Marak has an extraordinary temperament, brave and proud, with the makings of a tyrant and the ability to command armies since childhood. Lord Viperbane has high hopes for him."

Neasilis spoke unhurriedly, not skimping on his words of praise. His gaze was continuously on the face of the Commander, observing his reaction closely.

"Lord Marak is a prodigy, I've heard as much," the Commander offered a few polite words.

"Lord Marak is sixteen and yet without a betrothal, much to Lord Viperbane's frustration. It's not for want of trying, but Lord Marak has high standards, and ordinary maidens simply do not catch his eye." The faces of the Commander and the Elders darkened. What did this mean? Was this a proposal?

Neasilis continued with a soft chuckle. "As a devotee of Lord Viperbane and a Protégé of Cobalt Strike, I've always hoped for good relations between our factions, but the opportunity has never presented itself. Recently, I heard of a maiden Protégée of Cobalt Strike, of unparalleled beauty and extraordinary talent, who, at sixteen, has advanced to the rank of Advanced Mage. I personally introduced her to Lord Viperbane, and to my surprise, he agreed. Lord Marak's visit is actually to meet this maiden."

"Neasilis! Do not overstep!" The stout Elder could not hold back any longer. Marak to wed Celesse? To hand over Cobalt Strike's once-in-a-century talent to Lord Viperbane and use the marriage to curry favor with Cobalt Strike-what a cunning plan by Lord Viperbane!

"Calm yourself, and let me finish. Whatever Lord Marak desires, he has never failed to obtain. If he truly takes a liking to Celesse, Lord Viperbane will support it wholeheartedly. How, then, could Cobalt Strike refuse? I kindly remind you all, relations between Lord Viperbane and Cobalt Strike have been strained, but it has not yet come to an outright confrontation.

"This is an opportunity. If you refuse, it will mean complete rupture. If you agree, not only will relations improve, but you might also share resources and forge an alliance. You should understand the stakes involved," Neasilis said bluntly, sparing no one's feelings.

In the great hall, the Elders laughed, and so did the Commander, but his laughter was cold as ice. "How dare you threaten Cobalt Strike? Heh, Lord Viperbane has no such standing, and you, Neasilis, even less!"

Neasilis traced the rim of his teacup with a fingertip, then pushed out a wave of force with a flick of his hand, slamming the hall doors shut. The light in the hall dimmed, casting everyone into shadow, and the atmosphere grew tense.

The Elders exchanged glances, and their brows furrowed. "What does this mean?"

"I come from Cobalt Strike, and I've always considered this place my home. I am well aware of many things happening here... Heh, very aware."

"What are you trying to say?" asked the Commander, his brows knitted.

"For instance, certain secrets that should not see the light of day, which, if delved into, could bring calamity to Cobalt Strike."

"Stop beating around the bush, speak!" the stout Elder demanded coldly.

With a silent, mirthful laugh, Neasilis said, "If I recall correctly, there's someone imprisoned in Botanic Haven that Cobalt Strike should not have captured!"

At this revelation, everyone's expressions changed, and the Commander's gaze became sharp as a blade, fixated on Neasilis. The Elders stood slowly, fists clenched, as the air became thick with the intent of violence.

"Everyone, relax, I'm here to help."

"We don't need your help!"

"Are you sure? I've heard Cobalt Strike has been rather unstable of late."

"How did you come to know this?"

"That's not important. The important thing is this! The former Commander of Cobalt Strike accidentally killed a man, thought to be a commoner, but when he cried out a name... Heh... it made all the Elders..."