Leopold did not deny it. He stood by the row of wooden shelves, his gaze resting on Adele's face, waiting for her to finish speaking.
“After being betrayed by humans, we didn't actually turn to the Demon Race right away.”
“We fled into the forest, hid in valleys, and tried to rebuild our own settlements to carry on with our lives.”
“But having been supported by humans for generations, we had grown accustomed to a pampered lifestyle. We couldn't even manage the most basic farming, so how could we survive in this dangerous forest?”
Leopold did not interrupt her. He seemed to be weighing how much of Adele's words were true and how much were false.
“...We knew how to do nothing. We couldn't farm, we couldn't hunt, and we couldn't build houses. We only knew how to read, study magic, and spend our time on those ‘useless’ things.”
Isabella stood beside Leopold. She did not speak, but the way she looked at Adele was slightly softer than before.
“What happened after that?” Isabella asked.
“Later, the Demon Race found us,” Adele said, her voice turning calm. “They gave us food, shelter, and a way to survive.”
“At what cost?”
“To become slaves—” Adele said, pulling her collar aside to reveal her neck.
On her fair skin, extending from her collarbone up to just below her ear, was a black magical crest.
“What is this?”
“A brand,” Adele said, letting go of her collar, her tone as casual as if she were talking about the weather. “Every sorcerer who submits to the Demon Race has one. It is both a mark of identity and a chain.”
“Does it restrict your movements?” Isabella asked.
“More than just restricting movements.” Adele shook her head. “It suppresses spiritual affinity. If you attempt to disobey orders or escape, it will—”
“Bang!”
“My head will blow right off! Hahaha! I'll lose my head and become a corpse that's still warm.”
Adele's laughter echoed in the room for a moment before stopping abruptly. She lowered her head and adjusted her collar again.
“This is what we are—an abandoned race.”
“So you see,” she said, “it's not that we want to collude with the Demon Race. We simply have no choice.”
Leopold stood in place, remaining silent for a moment before speaking: “What if... I could give you a choice?”
Adele looked up, something flickering in her dark red eyes. She chuckled, though her laughter was much briefer than before.
“You, giving me a choice?” She tilted her head to look at him. “Does the dragon clan also feel pity for the weak?”
“I want to build a kingdom,” Leopold said. “A free kingdom, where humans and mages can live together in harmony.”
“A free kingdom...”
“Sir, that sounds like a dream. Will it ever become reality?”
“It will,” Leopold said, “if you are willing to believe.”
Adele looked up, her dark red eyes as calm as a pool of stagnant water.
“You don't know this, but the last person who said such things to me was ultimately burned to death in the town square.”
“Who was that?”
“My father.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.” Leopold noticed Adele's hands clenching unconsciously.
“He wanted a world where sorcerers and humans could coexist in peace. He wanted to prove that sorcerers are human too, not monsters.”
“In the end, he was burned to death in the square by humans. My mother was taken away on the very same day, and she never returned.”
“Thank you for telling me this,” Leopold sighed. “But I will still strive toward that goal.”
Adele sat in her chair, her hands clasped over her knees, her dark red eyes staring intently at him.
She seemed to be trying to gauge how much of his words were sincere, and how much was just empty, pretty talk.
Only after a long while did she let out a sigh.
“You should leave quickly. In a little while, the Lord of the Black Tide will return.”
“Even if you are dragons, you are no match for him.”
Leopold stood in place, not replying immediately. He looked at her, into those dark red eyes, which held the look of someone who had seen hope too many times, only to watch it shatter every time.
“When will the Lord of the Black Tide return?”
“Before sunset,” Adele said. “Every time he comes, he arrives at dusk, stays for the night, and leaves the next morning.”
“What does he come here for?”
“To check on the progress,” Adele said, lowering her eyes. “To check the progress of the spiritual affinity extraction, and to inspect the newly arrived cargo. Sometimes, he will personally take away a batch of people with the ‘highest concentration of spiritual affinity.’”
“What happens after they are taken away?”
“I don't know. No one has ever returned.”
“Then do you know where he takes them?” Isabella asked.
Adele shook her head.
“No one knows. I only know that every time he comes, the teleportation circle in the cathedral basement lights up. They walk inside, and then they disappear.”
“A teleportation circle?”
“In the cathedral basement.” Adele stood up and walked to the bookshelf in the corner. She pushed aside a loose wooden panel on the side of the bookshelf, revealing a flight of stone steps leading downward.
“It's right down there.”
Leopold and Isabella exchanged a look.
“You're going to show us?” Isabella asked.
“You have less than three hours,” Adele said, standing at the entrance of the stone steps without looking back. “You must leave before sunset. If you are still here when the Lord of the Black Tide returns—”
She paused, leaving the sentence unfinished. She merely glanced sideways at Leopold before stepping down the stone stairs.
Leopold did not hesitate to follow her down, with Isabella close behind him.
At the end of the passage was an iron-grated door. Adele retrieved a key from her waist, inserted it into the keyhole, and gently pushed the gate open.
Behind the door was a circular basement with a domed ceiling about three zhang high. In the center of the floor, a complex circular pattern was engraved, its edges inlaid with over a dozen dark purple crystals.
“The teleportation circle?” Leopold stood at the edge of the pattern, not stepping inside.
“Yes,” Adele stood at the entrance, going no further. “It connects to the Lord of the Black Tide's territory. Every time he comes, he steps out from this circle.”
“What exactly is he?” Isabella asked.
“No one knows his true form,” Adele said. “He always wears a black cloak and refers to himself as the Lord of the Black Tide.”
“Though I am not entirely sure what he is doing, he seems very interested in the spiritual light of humans.”
“If my judgment is correct, this should be a type of space teleportation magic.” Isabella raised her hands, her gaze sweeping over the patterns of the magic circle.
“Leo, I can perform a preliminary analysis of the magic circle, but the information I can gather will be limited.”
“What can you see?” he asked Isabella.
Isabella had already walked a circle around the teleportation circle. Stopping on the opposite side, she squatted down, her fingertips hovering just above the surface of the pattern as she sensed it closely.
“The foundation of this circle is a space teleportation spell,” she paused, frowning. “But something in it has been altered.”
“Altered?”
“The basic structure of a space teleportation circle is ‘anchor point—pathway—destination.’ Under normal circumstances, both ends of the teleportation circle should be symmetrical to ensure a stable teleportation.”
She withdrew her hand and stood up, her gaze slowly moving along the direction of the patterns. “Its mana flow is one-way. It flows from this end to the other, and then... there is no backflow.”
“One-way teleportation?” Leopold walked over to her side, looking down at the patterns. “Meaning, you can only teleport from this side to that side, but not back?”
“Impossible! The Lord of the Black Tide usually returns through here. How could it be just a one-way teleportation?” Adele quickly protested.
Leopold did not immediately refute Adele. He stood at the edge of the teleportation circle, his gaze slowly tracing the dark purple crystals.
“You're right. If he usually returns through here, then it cannot be one-way.”
He held his hand over the nearest crystal, feeling the faint vibrations.
“But Bella wouldn't be mistaken either.”
“So there is only one truth: the Lord of the Black Tide is hidden right here.”
“Am I right?” Leopold looked toward the shadows beneath the stairs behind them. “The gentleman who has been hiding there and refusing to show his face?”
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