Black Hearted Mage

"What a coincidence! I have the magic crystal! Count Canas, the Pope's golden robe will be mine!"

A slightly hoarse yet familiar voice suddenly echoed from the back of the crowd. Everyone turned to see the onlookers retreating like a tide, clearing a path. An elderly man, dressed in a black and gold noble robe, approached. His steps were slow, yet he exuded an air of authority. Time had marked his face, his silver hair meticulously combed, yet his eyes remained sharp as an eagle's.

Count Canas turned around, his face falling. He shook his head and sighed, "Duke Joyce, since you've made a move, this thing is naturally yours. In these circumstances, even if you had mountains of gold and silver, you might not be able to exchange it for even half a magic crystal!" His tone was filled with helplessness. The other party was not only a respected Grand Duke, but also a powerful official of the Imperial Court. Even if a mere earl did come across a magic crystal by chance, how could he dare to compete with such a figure?

As the two men conversed, officials from the House of Lords hurriedly arrived. Almost immediately, Duke Solomon, who had been attending the meeting in the palace, galloped to the edge of the square, dismounted, and strode forward. A momentary silence fell as the nobles exchanged glances, their understanding tacit. No one clamored for a seat, nor attempted to disrupt order—they simply formed a long, silent, and swift line, following the order of power and status.

Although Duke Solomon is over a hundred years old, he has regained amazing vitality thanks to the nourishment of a powerful life potion. Now he is not only able to move freely, but can even ride a horse again and gallop like the wind, leaving many young people in awe.

He rode a warhorse to the main square and was attracted by a dazzling golden light. He reined in his horse and stopped, looking sharply at the stalls surrounded by the crowd, then dismounted and walked forward quickly.

"Caesar, is this the Pope's golden coffin? You actually dug it out from the cemetery in the Holy City?" Duke Solomon's voice was filled with incredible shock.

He stood before the stall, carefully examining the breathtaking coffin. Crafted from pure gold, it shimmered in the sunlight, meticulously inlaid with a variety of rare gemstones, arranged in the pattern of ancient sacred symbols. Layers of protective runes were carved into the coffin's surface, imbued with mystical power, weaving together to form an invisible protective net. Between these functional ornamentations, the craftsmen skillfully incorporated intricate decorative patterns, weaving vines and sacred images, creating a sacred and inviolable aura while maintaining artistic beauty. Every detail spoke of the extraordinary origins and noble status of this sacred relic.

"My Lord Duke, please don't misunderstand me. I've never had a bad habit of grave robbing." Caesars leaned against the gorgeous golden coffin, a playful smile on his lips, and raised an eyebrow at Duke Solomon. "This golden coffin is brand new. No one has ever been buried here. It was originally the resting place carefully prepared by the previous Pope, St. Paul, for himself. Unfortunately..." He chuckled and spread his hands. "I happened to put him to rest. Naturally, these treasures became my trophies. Now, they are more like a piece of art collection in my possession."

Duke Solomon shook his head and sighed, his tone tinged with mockery and helplessness. "You, fellow, are truly beyond words. Two generations of popes of the Church of Saint Laurent have both fallen at your hands. Especially the new pope. He's only been in office for less than two weeks, barely even warmed up to the chair in the Vatican, and he's already become the shortest-lived pope in history—just utterly unlucky!"

Upon hearing this, Caesars' smile widened, a hint of arrogance flashing in his eyes. He reached out and gently stroked the exquisite carvings on the coffin lid, as if admiring a work of art he could be proud of.

Duke Solomon carefully selected the intricately carved golden coffin and ordered people to carry away a heavy golden cross, which was so shining that it almost burned the eyes of onlookers.

At that moment, the Northland Trading Company arrived in a mighty procession. These impoverished individuals, left with only magic crystals, were known for their unbridled and almost unreasonable behavior. They took any treasure they saw—whether it was an ancient sword inlaid with gemstones or a magical instrument radiating elemental light—without even bothering to ask the price. They simply waved their hands and stored everything in their storage space, as if the market were their own backyard warehouse.

Caesars stood aside, observing calmly for a moment. Then he stepped forward and traded a heavy gold coin for a magic crystal. The entire process took place openly in the center of the square, unabashedly under the scrutiny of the crowd. Seeing that most of his goods remained unsold, he showed no urgency, no desire to continue setting up shop.

"Bread, let's go to the arena!"

Before he finished speaking, he had already jumped up and sat steadily on the back of the fat mount, raising his hand and pointing straight in the direction of the noisy and boiling sound in the distance.

He had to race against time, rushing to the black market as quickly as possible before anyone else realized what was happening, grabbing as many magic crystals as possible. The window of opportunity was fleeting, and he had to secure this crucial hard currency before word spread and prices skyrocketed.

Meanwhile, Vivian took a completely different approach from Caesars. Instead of going into the dark, she entered the depths of the palace openly and unimpeded, met with the old emperor, and directly stated her intention to centrally blend Barton black tea.

"Madam, you mean... to requisition all the Patton black tea in Huofeng City?" The old emperor confirmed, unable to hide his surprise.

"Yes. Please notify all nobles immediately to send their inventory to Castle Barton. It doesn't have to be all," Vivian added calmly, "70% will be enough."

As soon as she finished speaking, she turned and walked out of the study without any further explanation. The old emperor looked at her departing figure, his fingers trembling slightly as he took out a magic communication stone and connected with the Speaker of the House of Nobles.

Almost at the same time, he solemnly issued another order to his attendants: "Announce the news of the Saint Laurent Empire's surrender, immediately!"

Caesars descended a narrow, dark staircase. Dim oil lamps hung on the damp stone walls, stretching his shadow long and short. He pushed open an unassuming wooden door, and a faint commotion emanated from behind. It was the entrance to an underground black market, rife with secret transactions and hidden conspiracies.

At the same time, Vivian was walking through the bustling streets, the wind blowing through her long hair, and she looked firmly at the towering Barton Castle in the distance, which was her home after leaving for more than 7,000 years.

On this seemingly peaceful afternoon, a crowd gradually gathered in the square in front of the Roland Empire's palace. A bright red notice, solemnly affixed by a soldier to the central bulletin board, its glaring color immediately caught everyone's attention. The words were simple, yet resonant like thunder—the Saint Laurent Empire had fallen. The news spread like wildfire, and whispers turned to cheers. The end of an empire, thus announced on a single piece of paper.

A day later, the dusty Caesars and Vivian finally returned to Violet City, followed by the fat dog who was still excited. The dog had almost eaten all the delicacies in Fire Maple City. At this moment, it was drooping its eyelids, panting with satisfaction, and protecting the storage ring hanging around its neck with its paws.

As a mage extremely sensitive to elemental fluctuations, Caesars sensed something unusual. The magical elements that once swirled freely in the air became thin and stagnant, as if quietly being drawn away by some invisible force. He frowned, his fingertips trembling slightly, trying to capture a wisp of the familiar dark element, but only felt a faint, weary response. This elemental depletion wasn't a natural phenomenon, but rather a slow-moving magical drought.

Without hesitation, Caesars pulled out the smooth communication stone from his bosom and injected a trace of magic into it. A faint glow shone on the stone surface, and it quickly connected with the old elf Ethan in the crater.

"Old Ethan," Caesars' voice was unusually solemn, "The elements are disappearing... The magical veins of this continent seem to be withering."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the communication stone, followed by Ethan's calm and aged voice: "Don't worry, Caesars. This is the large magic circle of the southern continent in operation - the giant magic circle covering hundreds of miles has been activated. We need to leave Roland's plane, and the amount of elemental energy we need is unimaginable!"

Although the old elf's tone was calm, it could not conceal a deep meaning.

Kaesas gazed toward the southern horizon, almost sensing the trembling vibrations of a magic circle operating on a distant continent. There, ancient runes absorbed the energy of heaven and earth, and perhaps this magical transformation had only just begun.

One evening three or four days later, as magnificent purple clouds began to spread across the southern sky, Vivian, a magic warrior, keenly sensed the unusual fluctuations in the elements in the air. Those once docile elemental forces now became restless, as if foreshadowing some major change.

Kaisas found Emily and said solemnly, "Emily, my brother may be leaving soon. Please keep these storage rings safe."

Caesars handed Emily six storage rings, each inlaid with a magical gem of a different color. He explained, "These contain not only my vast trove of gold coins, but also many precious items I haven't had time to sell, as well as some magical items I've collected over the years."

When Emily took the ring, she noticed a flicker of reluctance in Caesar's eyes. These storage rings contained not only wealth, but also Caesar's years of hard work and memories.

"Brother, keep it for yourself!" Emily waved her hands repeatedly, with a hint of uneasiness and reluctance in her eyes.

Caesars shook his head slightly and pressed a few gleaming storage rings into her hands. "Emily, it's not that I'm reluctant to part with these storage rings," he said in a low voice, his gaze gazing into the distance, as if he could see through the clouds and see something deeper. "I'm just a little... reluctant to leave Roland Continent."

He paused for a moment, his voice filled with complex emotions that were difficult to conceal: "Our ancestor is still alive, and he will be here soon."

In truth, long ago, on a starlit night, Caesars had mentioned to Emily the story of that mysterious and powerful ancestor. He had told her all about the distant legends, the mission within their bloodline, and the hopes and responsibilities their lineage carried.

Emily silently took the ring, her fingertips trembling slightly. She raised her head and said in a voice so soft that it was almost inaudible, "Brother, can you come back?"

"I may... never come back." Caesar sighed, his voice filled with heaviness and helplessness that were difficult to conceal.

As the elements of heaven and earth on Roland Continent gradually thinned, the level of the entire plane slowly declined. Returning to Roland from the Demon Realm was already difficult, and leaving again was even more difficult. The barriers of space were growing thicker, and the plane passages were becoming increasingly unstable. This farewell might be forever.

The moment Caesars finished speaking, the purple light in the sky suddenly dimmed, as if swallowed by some invisible force. Without warning, a figure appeared above Violet City. Without any elemental fluctuations or condensed elemental wings, he stood silently in the sky, defying all common sense.

The next moment, the figure vanished without warning. Almost immediately, he reappeared before Caesars and his companions like a ghost, as if he had been standing there from the very beginning, soundless and yet carrying a suffocating pressure.

"teacher!"

Vivian, usually stoic, now spoke with uncontrollable excitement. She gazed at the slowly approaching figure, her eyes gleaming with disbelief. Caesars, standing beside her, also expressed bewilderment—the ancestor before him, so closely connected by blood, looked utterly different from the image recorded in the crystal. Most striking was the long, dark purple hair, which had a strange translucent quality, a faint sheen seemingly flowing through the strands. Even more mysterious, the color of the hair wasn't a fixed, shimmering hue, but shifting between deep purple and light violet, sometimes crystal-clear and solid, sometimes hazy and illusory, as if teetering on the edge of reality and illusion.