Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

The following day, the city was still reeling from the shock and grief of one of its Mana Vortex Magus—Hayed Ballard—passing away.

This sad news carried more weight than the death of Councilor Brigham Flynn. After all, this time, Hayes Ballard's death took place just a week before the Grand Magus Tournament.

The ramifications were immense. A subtle, yet wide ripple had spread across all the people, locals and outsiders alike, gathered in Ravenfell.

How would the death of a Councilor's son affect the Grand Magus Tournament?

Tension hung heavy in the air. Delegates from the Four Pillars and Baja High Forest had gathered at Council Keep on this day.

The Councilors from Ravenfell and the Professors from Saratoga Castle did their best to handle this sensitive situation diplomatically.

Yes, they had anticipated several variables to arise in the days leading up to—and during—this monumental event, but even they couldn't have foreseen the murder of a Mana Vortex Magus, especially one from the esteemed Ballard family.

And the sole person indirectly responsible for this unforeseen twist was now deep asleep in his underground laboratory, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing above.

It wasn't like he cared, to begin with. He had far more pressing concerns on his plate.

Adam had gone to sleep quite late into the night. As such, by the time he woke up, it was already past noon.

In fact, he would have slept for a few more hours had it not been for the furry, gray ball of chaos jumping on his stomach.

"Brother! Brother, wake up! I'm hungry!"

Valerian kept bouncing on top of Adam. His antics didn't work for a long time, but eventually they did.

"Ughh…" The raven-haired youth groaned. He slowly opened his eyes, his vision initially blurry, but it gradually focused.

He saw the grumpy face of Valerian looking down on him.

"Hungry! I am hungry!" The young dragon leaned forward and started patting Adam's cheeks repeatedly, trying to wake him up completely.

Adam exhaled deeply.

"…Fine, let's get you something to eat."

Valerian started clapping excitedly, but the next moment, his expression turned downcast. He lowered his head and spoke softly, "I miss Rowan already."

Adam's eyes trembled.

Once again, he was reminded about Anna and his loyal subordinate, Rowan.

The journey to the Southern Federation was going to take them months, and in that span of time, a lot of things could happen. Especially considering that they were being followed by Ives Ballard and a group of powerful Magi.

Fate indeed had a sense of cruel irony. More than twenty-five years ago, Anna had set foot on the shores of the Southern Federation while being pursued by her enemies.

Now, twenty-five years later, she had once again set sail for the Southern Federation. This time, however, she was being pursued by his enemies.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but smile bitterly.

His hands were tied. If he left the city, he would be falling straight into the Master's trap. He knew it in his bones. That's how devious the man's scheme was.

In the end, he could only hope that they made it to Glassford on time. Once they reached the town square and activated the Joker's calling card, they would be completely safe.

Even a Mana Core Magus wouldn't be able to forcefully make their way inside the Soaring River Secret Plane!

I can only trust in Anna's abilities, he thought.

And Kasper…

He gently rubbed the young dragon's furry cheeks and spoke warmly, "Don't worry, Little Val. We'll meet him soon."

"Mhm." Valerian nodded lightly, then slumped over his chest. "Alright, brother, take me upstairs. You see, I'm very, very hungry."

Adam couldn't help but let out a light chuckle. "Alright, let's go."

***

Sitting at the head of the table in the dining room, it was strange for Adam not to see Rowan standing behind him.

The middle-aged man would always be around, ready at once to tend to his every need. And now… he was gone.

Adam didn't know how long it would take before he met the man again.

He was idly pushing around the food on his plate with the fork, a blank look on his face. Meanwhile, Valerian was wolfing down the mountain of food before him with no care in the world.

"…Master?" A butler called out to him meekly.

Adam turned to the man with an arched eyebrow. "Yes?"

This man was Rowan's protege, in a manner of speaking. The young man's name was Clade, and he was given responsibility by Rowan to take care of the manor until he returned.

Clade looked at the untouched food on Adam's plate and asked politely, "Is the food not to your liking, Master? I… I can have it changed. It won't take long!"

Adam looked at the anxious man and offered him a light smile. "Relax," he said.

Turning his attention back to the food on his plate, he then began eating. "The food is fine."

Clade let out a breath of relief. It was his first day in Rowan's shoes, and he didn't want to disappoint the Master of the manor.

He turned to look at Adam and spoke again, "Master, Lord Raidon was here earlier today. He wished to seek an audience with you, but since you were asleep, he left."

"Oh?" Adam arched an eyebrow. "Raidon was here? What did he want?"

Clade shook his head. "He didn't tell me. Instead…"

His words trailed off as he grasped a white envelope sealed with crimson wax from his inner robes. Then, he continued, "He left this behind and said to give this to you when you awoke. He said the letter came from a very, very important man."

Glancing at the sigil on the crimson wax, Clade had a vague idea of who the sender might be. But the very thought of it was so bizarre to him that he immediately dismissed it.

Adam's curiosity was piqued. For even Raidon, the Captain of the Black Legion and a noble Viscount of Ravenfell, to claim that the letter was from a very, very important man, he wondered who it could be.

Is it the Headmaster? I was planning to meet him soon, anyway, he thought to himself as he took the letter from Clade's hand.

When his gaze landed on the sigil on the crimson wax, his pupils dilated.

It wasn't from the Headmaster. No, this was from someone of even higher status.

The sigil belonged to…

The Royal Family of Acadia.