Warlock Apprentice

Chapter 853: Torrent Plane


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Chapter 854: Torrent Plane

Angor slowly created a story in his mind to explain what happened here. A long time ago, Mirafall came to the Goldspink Empire and found an entrance to the Torrent Plane. He drew something on a piece of paper to block the plane from the mortal world. He then left a map of the plane as a gift for the Shannon Clan.

Of course, Angor had no proof yet. Though he mostly believed his theory.

If there was an entrance to another world full of elemental creatures, it might have something to do with the element depletion around the Old Earth, because such creatures had to consume elements to survive.

Lochet and Tavier were still mourning their lost kin. Angor wondered whether he should tell them that it was not necessary to kill someone to use the scroll because according to Mirafall, the map only drew “a set amount of energy”. They could always find the blood from multiple members.

Besides, the blood was only a key. To provide enough energy for the item, using magic crystals should be enough.

Unfortunately, the Shannon Clan never knew how to use the map properly, so they kept spending their life energy in a very inefficient way.

Angor considered and decided not to tell the truth. The map remained here as a rarely-used secret due to its “huge cost”, as believed by the Shannon Clan. If they learned the workaround, they might start relying on it by plundering their people for resources.

Furthermore, other supernatural individuals would easily learn about the map as well as the existence of Torrent Plane, thus bringing hazard and conflict upon the Old Earth.

He silently handed the map back to Lochet.

“Did you find something interesting on it, sir?” the emperor asked.

“Nothing.”

“I… see. Can you please tell us who gave this scroll to us? Is he a powerful wizard?”

“Not only that. He’s a VERY influential man in the wizarding world. I suggest you keep it safe at all times and don’t tell anybody, or bad things would find you and your people.”

While speaking, Angor used nightmare energy to hypnotize and convince Lochet and Tavier that revealing the map to outsiders would ruin the entire empire, so they were not to use it unless absolutely necessary.

He also “told” them to keep the stalactite a secret as well. He would like to explore the Torrent Plane all by himself first before letting anyone else know about it.

This was on condition that he could learn how to cast Transform in time, which was a rather difficult task. Telling from relevant records, one probably needed several decades to study all the necessary subjects.

“Sigh… Guess I should check on the Soft Larva eggs later.”

The probability of getting a Mutation Larva out of the eggs was pretty slim, but it was better than none.

And if everything failed, he could always tell the secret to his professor later. If Sunders found something useful from Torrent Plane, he as Sunders’ student wouldn’t be left out from the good stuff.

With everything done, Lochet invited him to breakfast, during which Tavier used the precious chance to discuss the coming battle with the advisers in the palace.

After finishing his meal, Angor stepped onto an observation tower of the palace to briefly enjoy the clear weather and the beautiful view of the thriving capital.

Soon, Tavier came to him in her shiny battle armor, which was maintained to its top condition.

“Ready?”

Tavier felt a trace of warmth inside upon hearing Angor’s gentle voice.

“Thank you for everything, sir.” Tavier knew that Angor accepted their breakfast invitation just to give her more time to prepare.

“Don’t lose Moonwater City to the enemies. I like its view. Besides, I don’t want Grue Town to get dragged into the war.”

“If that’s the case, sir, you can always join—”

“That’s out of the question,” Angor said as he asked Tavier to hop on his Gondola.

The weather remained fair. It took them three hours to reach Moonwater City again. They went to the military camp at about 1 in the afternoon.

The soldiers in the camp were all on guard. No one said anything particular to welcome Tavier’s arrival, but they all looked a lot more confident compared to yesterday.

Tavier saw Aaron standing in front of the commander’s tent with an anxious expression and quickly asked, “Did something bad happen to our plan?”

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“No-no, everything is ready. We’re fully prepared to engage Heylan…” Aaron answered while glancing at Angor warily.

“Then why’s that look?” asked Tavier.

“The kid I asked you to watch over got away?” Angor chipped in.

Aaron nodded and quickly knelt on the ground. “It was my fault, sir, to let that bra—I mean, child—to slip from my sight. I’ll accept any punishment!”

The general offered his sword using both hands.

“Just tell me what happened.” Angor didn’t move.

According to Aaron, he ordered a squad of ten soldiers to guard the child. When the child woke up, he never stopped screaming for food or taking a poop. And since it was Angor who left him here, the soldiers had no choice but to agree to everything.

They removed the restraints on the child since they couldn’t possibly help with his defecation. The kid found a chance and released a swarm of strange bugs from his pants, which easily knocked out all the guards, thus letting him escape from the camp.

Even now, the guards were still unconscious in the sickbay.

Aaron seemed extremely frustrated by this incident—he just asked to serve Angor not long ago, and he messed up his first job already.

A soldier suddenly came to them while yelling, “General Aaron, Chika is not going to make it!”

Aaron explained when both Angor and Tavier wanted an answer, “Chika is the leader of the squad I mentioned.”

On hurried steps, they all went to the injured soldier. Angor planned to at least solve this problem because it was partially his fault.

Inside the sickbay, he saw all ten soldiers lying in their beds while their faces were of a sickly blue-ish tinge. Chika was drawing his last breaths, and the other nine didn’t look much better either.

“That kid did THIS?!” Tavier asked in horror.

“Yes, milady,” a surgeon in the room explained, “I think it’s a certain poisonous insect, but I cannot ascertain its nature. We’ve been staggering the symptoms by giving them hemostasis, but… they don’t have very long, as you see.”

“That accursed—”

Tavier held back her words because Angor was still here.

“I apologize. I didn’t expect that kid to be so hostile.” Angor shook his head. “I’ll do something.”

A simple “Neutralize” cantrip was all he needed to remove all the poison from the victims, but these men might need some time to wake up because they had been receiving the wrong treatment.

He collected some blue-grayish liquid he extracted from the soldiers inside a vial and used Narda’s Vision to check.

It was a potent toxin produced by something called the “White-Legged Sea Spider”. Without proper antidotes or useful spells, it would kill within three days.

In other words, mortals afflicted by such a poison were as good as dead.

It seemed the kid never intended to show mercy—he meant to murder these people for real.

Aaron was relieved to see his men safe, but he quickly grew worried again since he was the one who let the culprit escape.

“Just forget it. Can’t be helped,” Angor comforted Aaron.

The child was only a possible talent who might or might not become an apprentice. Since he didn’t wish to join the path of wizardry by normal means, Angor would not force him to.

Angor wouldn’t usually judge people by their nature, but he was still displeased to see the child acting so dangerously.

“Should he appear again, you’re free to deal with him however you want. I won’t care.”

Since everything was finished, Angor simply bid farewell to Tavier and left on his Gondola without waiting for a response.

It was almost nightfall when he returned to Padt Manor.

The brief leave had allowed him to learn a very precious piece of clue, that the “Magic Painter” once visited Goldspink Empire and left a special item behind.

This would doubtlessly cause quite an uproar at the Old Earth, should anyone at Fey Continent hear about it.

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