123. The Price of Getting Ahead

Of course, even the most prestigious name can lose its utility if Grand Duke Gardes himself is not present.

As this group of youths, draped in the prestige of the Gardes family, marched arrogantly toward the entrance of the teleportation array, they were intercepted halfway. A young man wearing a velvet magical cloak stepped out from the side, blocking their path. His eyes were downcast, and his demeanor was poised and unyielding as he stated, "This area is temporarily closed for thirty minutes. I ask you all to wait here."

Before the words had even faded, a seventeen-year-old boy stepped forward, snapped his horsewhip, and barked insolently, "Closed? Who do you think you’re talking to? Open your eyes and see who we are! Are you courting death, blocking Young Master Gardes’s path?"

The whip descended with his arrogant words, striking directly toward the young man in the cloak. Yet, the young man did not show the slightest intention to dodge.

*Snap!* The whip struck ten centimeters above the young man’s head, triggering a shower of sparks. As the embers landed on the whip, it was as if they had been plunged into a vat of boiling oil; the end of the whip ignited instantly. The flames raced up the lash with a hiss, scalding the boy who had spoken. He let out a piercing shriek, dropped the whip, and tumbled off his horse.

No one in the crowd showed the slightest concern for the boy rolling on the ground in agony. Every eye was fixed on the cloaked young man with hostility. Eventually, two other youths—also wearing cloaks, though of a significantly lower quality—scrambled out from the teleportation array’s entrance to drag the injured boy away.

It was only then that the youths surrounding the so-called Young Master Gardes noticed the insignia on the chests of the two new arrivals: it was the emblem of the Mages' Association.

The Mages' Association was a civilian organization, yet its status was so lofty that even the highest echelons of the Empire treated it with trepidation. To be a formal member, one had to be at least a sixth-tier mage; to be an elder, one had to be at least seventh-tier. As for the old Guildmaster of the Mages' Association, he was the only ninth-tier mage among all mankind.

If the Mages' Association demanded the use of a teleportation array, let alone the young master of the Gardes family, even Grand Duke Gardes himself would have to show some respect.

Circumstances dictated the outcome. Although this Young Master Gardes was a fop, he was a shrewd one. He cast a glance at his companions, and the one closest to him dismounted, stepped forward with a smile, and performed a mage's salute: "Joans Hark, a fourth-tier initiate mage, offers his greetings. Please forgive our earlier offense."

Seeing the newcomer offer the salute of a junior and acknowledging them as a fellow mage, the cloaked young man’s attitude softened considerably. He stepped aside to return the gesture halfway and said, "It is of no consequence. However, I must ask you all to wait a moment longer."

Joans maintained a reserved and elegant smile as he attempted to build rapport. "You are too kind. The masters of the Association toil for the Empire year-round. Since the Association is conducting business, we juniors naturally must offer our full support."

The cloaked young man nodded slightly, lowered his eyes, and signaled that he had no interest in further conversation.

Joans felt a prickle of impatience, though he kept it hidden behind his smile. "The masters’ business must be of national importance. Might this brother be able to reveal a detail or two? Though our party’s abilities are modest, we are, after all, the local snakes of the Imperial Capital. If there is any errand to run, we would be honored to ease your burden."

The remark was so obsequious that even the cloaked young man felt it would be rude not to respond. He looked up and said, "Someone has torn a spatial rift for cross-planar teleportation. We have sealed the array to prevent energy leakage from other planes, which would threaten everyone's safety."

Seeing Joans open his mouth as if to ask more, the cloaked young man offered a brief bow and retreated into the entrance of the teleportation array, leaving no room for further pursuit.

Joans clicked his tongue, a mix of regret and disdain, before returning to Young Master Gardes to explain the situation.

The young master raised an eyebrow and flicked his short whip, laughing. "So that’s it. Anyone capable of tearing a spatial rift on their own is a master. Keep your eyes peeled, all of you. If you can track down who it is, I shall reward you handsomely!"

At these words, a chorus of eager responses rose up.

Compared to the crowded scene outside, the sealed teleportation chamber held only thirteen people: two elderly men, three young men, and eight youths. In contrast to the formal and luxurious attire of the youths, the two elders were dressed with startling simplicity—one with flowing emerald hair and a tattered brown cloak, the other in a plain cloth robe, bearing no insignia of a mage. Had Teresa been there, she would have recognized the man with green hair as Mu in an instant.

The two elders stood at either end of the array, maintaining its stability. At their level, mana flowed with every gesture, requiring no staves or incantations—or rather, if they ever needed to resort to such things, the resulting magic would be cataclysmic.

The light of the teleportation array was soft and warm, devoid of the instability typical of spatial magic. Suddenly, a black dot appeared at the center of the array, small as a pearl. The surrounding mana, previously flowing gently, surged toward the black dot like sharks scenting blood, tearing the space apart and forcing the hole to expand.

When it stretched into a circle roughly two meters in diameter, a faint gray mist drifted out, gradually filling the chamber.

First, a pair of feet emerged from the gray fog, followed by the rest of the body. To those standing directly in front of the black hole, the scene was normal, but to those at the side, it appeared quite uncanny—the hole was as thin as a sheet of paper, yet people were stepping through it.

Before long, four people and a pile of beasts had emerged. Once their feet hit solid ground, the two younger ones exhaled in relief. The youngest girl among them stretched luxuriously.

"Goodness, we’re finally out. Where is this?" she asked while stretching.

"The Imperial Capital," a smiling voice replied.

"Hey, why hasn't this fog cleared yet? Clear away, clear away! I’ve been staring at it in the Void for dozens of days; I’m sick of it. Clear away... oh..." The girl grumbled, waving her hands. Her voice was sweet and delicate, drawing smiles from those nearby. When the gray mist finally dissipated and she realized they were surrounded by a dozen people, her frozen, cute expression made it impossible for the others not to chuckle.

Seeing the room full of people, Teresa’s mouth twitched. She instinctively shuffled sideways, hiding behind Pedia, and whispered in a voice so low it was almost inaudible, "Oh heavens, so many people. I’m finished..."

Though her voice was faint, it was perfectly clear to the powerful figures in the room. The elder in the plain robe laughed, "You are a straightforward girl, quite charming."

Hearing the praise, Teresa peeked out from behind Pedia and offered the old man a sweet smile. "Thank you for the compliment!"

"Very well. Since you have returned, let us unseal the array," the elder said with a chuckle. "I imagine the people outside are nearly going mad. Come, we shall leave through the back. Let us avoid running into them."

The elder turned and walked off alongside Mu, with Antonil following closely. Lambert gestured for Teresa and Pedia to follow. As the four moved away, the eleven cloaked mages who had been keeping a low profile gathered around, shielding the group of six in their center.

The group exited the teleportation station, which had been sealed for over twenty minutes, in broad daylight. Even exiting through the back, they drew significant attention—their earlier actions had been so startling that they had already attracted the eyes of countless factions in the Imperial Capital. However, intimidated by the prestige of the Mages' Association, the spies dared only to watch from afar; none dared to approach, let alone pursue.

"Well? Did anyone recognize those inside?" Young Master Gardes stood by a window, tapping his palm with his short whip, asking the question nonchalantly.

A flurry of guesses followed, but the young master’s gaze eventually settled on one person.

"Joans, you don’t look too happy. What’s the matter? Does my question displease you that much?"

Joans’s expression stiffened, and his already sour face turned truly wretched. He put on a bitter look and said, "You know my loyalty to you, Young Master. Forget a question; if you told me to jump from here, I wouldn’t dare say I was displeased. I recognized one of the people who left—an old rival of mine from Cervantes City. He’s incredibly capable, cunning, and ruthless. I’ve suffered at his hands more than once. It was because he framed me that my father sent me to the Capital to lie low."

"I was filled with hatred the moment I saw him. But then, I thought, if not for him, I wouldn't have come to the Capital, and I wouldn't have had the fortune of becoming your companion. Thinking of it that way, I almost feel as though I owe him a debt. That is why my face is so gloomy."

Joans’s "sincere confession" amused Young Master Gardes. He laughed, tapped Joans on the shoulder with his whip, and said, "You’re usually so sharp; why are you struggling with this? Your arrival in the Capital was inevitable; what does it have to do with him? Hmm... logically, I should help you settle this score, but since he’s now involved with the Mages' Association, things are complicated..."

"You are too kind, Young Master," Joans said, feigning deep gratitude. "The business between Pedia Aubrion and me is a personal matter. I wouldn't dare trouble you with it on a stage like this. Though our relationship is not harmonious, there is a saying: your enemy is the one who knows you best. If you wish to recruit Pedia Aubrion, I am at your service."

"Aubrion? Which Aubrion?" Gardes frowned slightly. "Could it be the one who once rejected my grandfather’s invitation?"

Joans put on a look of distress. "I wouldn't know about that. But who would dare reject the Grand Duke’s offer? Wouldn't that person have to be a complete fool?"

"Haha, that’s an amusing way to put it," Gardes laughed, his expression turning sinister. "Some people are indeed fools. What’s his father’s name?"

"Amos Aubrion, the commander of our legion in Cervantes City."

"Hmph," Gardes snorted, a flash of malice crossing his face. After a moment, he turned his head and said, "Joans, have someone keep an eye on this Pedia Aubrion. See who he associates with in the Capital—and be careful. If my grandfather finds out, I’ll break you!"

Joans bowed repeatedly, and Gardes waved his hand, departing with his entourage, leaving only Joans and Tatu Jones, who had been standing silently like a shadow, in the room.

"What are you planning to do?" Tatu asked in a low voice.

"What... am I... planning?" Joans squinted, enunciating each word. "What else could I do? Didn't you hear Young Master Gardes tell us to watch Pedia? What else is there?"

Tatu didn't believe him. After staring at Joans for a long moment, he sighed softly. "Fine. I’ll go find someone."

As he turned to leave, he heard Joans add in a stiff voice, "Since we are watching him, just watch him. Do not do anything else!"

Tatu looked back in surprise at Joans’s retreating figure, his expression softening slightly before he hurried out of the room.

The luxurious bedroom was left silent, save for Joans, who stared blankly out the window at the area around the teleportation station. After a long while, he murmured, "What can I do? What dare I do?"

He offered a cold, mirthless smile, followed by a look of profound dejection.

Indeed, what could he do? What did he dare to do? He was, at best, a dog under Young Master Gardes. If the master didn't tell you to bite, would you dare open your mouth?

Unless he no longer valued his own life—or his father’s career, or his sister’s safety.

The more he thought, the more bitter he became. He couldn't help but think of Pedia—the rival he had fought for years in Cervantes City. Now, while Joans appeared glorious on the surface, he had lost his pride and self-respect. And Pedia? To climb higher, had he, too, lost something along the way?