Lanqi Didn't Want to See a Play

The ticking of the pendulum clock was exceptionally distinct in the quiet room, every interlocking of mechanical gears falling in step with the march of time. Candlelight flickered gently on the long table, the flames waxing and waning, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across the silvery-white stone reliefs carved into the walls. The conversation between Iphatia, Talia, and Lanqi drifted between lighthearted banter and grave earnestness. "How strong are you right now?" Lanqi asked Iphatia. Before departing from this subterranean palace, there was still this question he wanted clarified. Most of the time, prying into the true strength of top-tier powerhouses was considered impolite—much like rashly asking an unmarried woman her age, it touched on private matters. But now that he, Talia, and Iphatia were comrades who would entrust their lives to one another, it was necessary to understand each other thoroughly. Talia merely cast a glance at Lanqi, offering no comment on whether his analogy was apt. In the past, she had thought it somewhat unhinged that Lanqi thought of her a hundred times a day, but by now she had come to terms with it. "I don't really know how to describe it. I only started cultivating seriously a little over a year ago, and there are probably several tiers within the eighth rank. With a century having passed, I'm not sure how I measure up against the demon generals from back then. But if I compare myself to a modern reference point: the first time I faced a Blood Clan Marquis, I barely managed to escape. The second time, I could put up a bit of a fight, but I still couldn't win..." Iphatia lowered her eyelashes, her voice growing fainter. The mere thought of that insurmountable foe seemed to dispirit her. If she possessed the power of the Demon Realm's ninth-rank generals of old, let alone a single Blood Clan Marquis, she could have pinned two of them down and beaten them senseless. She resented herself deeply for slacking off for so long; now that strength was truly needed, time felt all too scarce. Lanqi looked into Talia's eyes, efficiently sharing thoughts through their mental link as he made a rough appraisal of Iphatia's strength. It seemed she was at the quasi-Bishop tier. By his level conversion algorithm, she was likely around Level 85 or 86—stronger than Perlman, but not quite on par with the ten peerless Cardinal Bishops of the Resurrection Church. "Wait a second, sis." Talia suddenly caught on. Averting her gaze from Lanqi, she stared at Iphatia in astonishment. She calculated that by Lanqi's leveling theory, it had taken her a century just to advance from Level 81 to Level 82, and only by equipping her specialized gear—Lanqi—could she barely touch Level 84 for three minutes. Her sister had applied herself for little more than a year at most, and had skyrocketed from Level 80 straight to Level 85 or 86?! "Oh, through my efforts over the years, I tracked down the formula for the Divine Curse Potential Secret Elixir. I successfully brewed it and drank it down. My lifespan is about the same as a human's now, but my cultivation speed shot up noticeably." Iphatia counted on her fingers. Of course, had she not slacked off and spent those hundred years putting in proper effort, she would have reached the pinnacle of the eighth rank even without such an elixir. And if the demon kingdom were still intact, allowing her to draw upon the power of faith, reaching the ninth rank would have been a breeze. In truth, the ninth rank didn't seem all that difficult to her; she had simply had no interest in it before. She didn't quite understand why everyone considered the eighth and ninth ranks as hard as reaching the heavens. "..." Watching Iphatia's nonchalant expression, Talia surprisingly managed to read her sister's thoughts. For the first time, she felt the brutal chasm of innate talent. Once, demons had revered her as the perfect princess, lauding her brilliance. But compared to her sister, she had essentially been a joke. It was only because her sister had spent all those years slacking off that her pride had been spared. Lanqi did everything he could to keep his face straight, yet he couldn't resist savoring Talia's expression at this moment. Back in the Kingdom of Posen, Talia had proudly boasted to him that she was by no means the weakest among the great demons of the old era. Now it seemed she truly had landed at rock bottom. "Laugh if you want..." Talia sensed Lanqi's gaze. Her eyes rimmed with red, tears betrayed her by spilling down her cheeks. "Wait, are you really crying?" Seeing that Talia was actually crying, Lanqi panicked. He hurried over to examine her tear-streaked cheeks. He had never imagined that his icy, aloof Master would become so extraordinarily fragile after arriving in this subterranean palace, experiencing human emotional swings at the drop of a hat. "My bad, my bad. Tata, please don't cry." Lanqi pulled out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at the fair skin around her eyes, apologizing. Upon further thought, though Talia had immense pride, she possessed an equally resilient heart. She had weathered all manner of predicaments, and her mental fortitude surpassed anyone's. A minor setback like this could never break her. What truly broke her heart was likely the fact that her sister had consumed an elixir that shortened her lifespan. To a long-lived species like demons, such an elixir was undoubtedly poison. Put in human terms, it was akin to slashing one's remaining life down to a mere year or two, hastening an imminent natural death. It was power bought at the sacrifice of one's very existence. Talia didn't want her sister to die in just a few short decades. "Tata, are you thinking that Iphatia is going to be parted from you again so soon?" Lanqi softened his voice considerably, asking at her side. "Uuu..." Hearing Lanqi's words, Talia wept even more sorrowfully. "Look on the bright side, Tata. I won't live past a century either. In a few decades, I'll be gone too, and then no one will be around to make you angry." Lanqi coaxed her with the patience shown to a child, trying to cheer her up. "..." Talia's sobbing ceased. Lowering the hand wiping her tears, she stared blankly at Lanqi. Lanqi would only live for a few decades too. Why had she never considered that before? Yet, hearing Lanqi's comforting words brought her no solace at all. She only felt a hollow pang in her chest. "It's fine, Sister. Being like a human is pretty nice. I sought out this elixir precisely for that side effect in the first place," Iphatia seemed to realize why her sister was grieving as well, offering an innocent smile. "..." "Iphatia... you silly girl..." Talia pressed her lips together and shook her head. If it were her, she would certainly choose to transform Lanqi into a familiar creature to carry with her forever, letting him share near-eternal life with her. "..." Hearing Talia's inner thoughts, Lanqi smiled wryly. Talia might understand humans a bit better now, but she still didn't fully get it. "Talia, all things follow the laws of nature. Tampering with them at whim might not be a blessing—it could be a curse," he said to her. "I don't understand, and I don't want to," Talia shook her head, rejecting Lanqi's nonsensical argument. She was Lanqi's teacher; she was supposed to be the one instructing him, not the other way around. "Sigh, Sister is still quite a traditional demon after all." Seeing that Talia had stopped crying and that Lanqi was still comforting her, Iphatia abandoned the idea of getting up to console her sister. With a good man by her sister's side, her heart was at ease. Resting her cheek on her hand, she and the little black cat waited quietly as Lanqi wiped away Talia's tears until her peerless countenance of old was restored. "All right, Iphatia, it's about time for us to head out," Lanqi glanced at the grandfather clock in the silver palace and addressed Iphatia across the table. He had taken the afternoon off by the lakeside, pushing his scheduled work to tonight. Then, due to Elsa's situation, he had rushed out of Saint Creti Monastery; once he returned, he still had to catch up on his duties, or else tomorrow's tasks would keep getting pushed back further. The injured Iphatia also required long hours of rest each day. As delightful as chatting here was, business was largely concluded, and they couldn't linger forever. "Mmm..." Iphatia looked at them reluctantly, resting her chin on the table with a pout. Looking at her, Lanqi and Talia chuckled helplessly. They had no doubt that if Iphatia could leave this concealed subterranean space, she would follow right behind them. "Iphatia, we'll come visit you again next time," Lanqi coaxed. "When?" Iphatia asked immediately. "Probably within a week—at least once?" Lanqi said uncertainly. In the empire, Professor Landry was drawing considerable attention from various factions. Excessive contact with the Brierda mafia might look improper and arouse unnecessary suspicion. "Then I'll be waiting for you!" Iphatia perked up instantly, raising both hands in delight. Standing up, she handed the little black cat back to them, then led them toward the door. "Who constructed this place?" Talia looked back and surveyed the spatial barrier. She had wanted to praise the remarkable craftsmanship from the very start; she hadn't expected any modern magic artificer to be capable of forging an independent space of this caliber. The radiance on the domed ceiling shifted gradually over time, golden-blue patterns of light flowing across crystal pendants like celestial bodies drifting through the cosmos. Lanqi slowed his pace and looked toward Iphatia as well. He was actually quite interested in this question. He had initially planned to ask the hardworking mafia boss Barton after stepping outside, as an undertaking like this clearly couldn't have been overseen by someone as averse to trouble as Iphatia. "An acquaintance of Barton built it. Have you heard of the Imperial Royal Artificer Abigail?" Iphatia replied. She was eager to answer their questions. "I've heard of her," Lanqi reflected for a moment before answering. Abigail was reportedly one of the most prominent magic artificers in the empire today, hailed as the empire's magitech prodigy. However, because her heart was not in magical engineering and she despised military projects, she had rebuffed every conscription attempt by the imperial military. "She's a magic artificer with an affinity for the spatial attribute?" Talia was astonished. She recalled that in the course Lanqi was currently teaching, there was an exceptionally brilliant student named Nathaniel. As the student most favored by the professors at Saint Creti Monastery, and a genius alchemist deemed highly likely to claim the Creti Empire's highest honor in magical engineering—the Grant Award—within the next decade or two, he held the title of Royal Magic Artificer. To Lanqi, Nathaniel was less like a student and more like a partner. If Nathaniel so wished, he could graduate from Saint Creti Monastery at any moment; most imperial universities and colleges would gladly hire him as a professor of alchemy. Lanqi was very keen on having an outstanding imperial youth like Nathaniel directly assist him in completing his epoch-making project, engraving an indelible name of glory in the empire's academic world. In Talia's view, a magic artificer holding the title of Creti Royal Artificer would be equivalent to at least a Platinum-rank magic artificer professional over in the Allied forces, though the Creti Empire didn't subdivide magic artificers into distinct categories. "Yes. That's why, no matter how stubborn she is, the empire treats her like an irreplaceable treasure and won't force her hand." Iphatia also understood the ranking system used by the United Council of Kingdoms alliance. Platinum rank was already a pinnacle certification in magical engineering, but adding the spatial attribute completely changed the game. Located on the fourth row of the periodic table of attributes, bordering divine authority, the spatial attribute was second in rarity only to divination. Beings possessing an affinity for it were one in tens of millions. "I heard that Headmaster Violet initially had Miss Abigail in mind for the new professorship at Saint Creti Monastery, but because she declined, Landry was chosen in the end," Lanqi added. Unlike Talia, who paid little heed to the world outside, he constantly gathered as much information as possible in the Creti Empire. "After all, Abigail has little interest in magical engineering. All she cares about is staging epochal masterpiece operas. Apparently, an opera directed by her is currently a sellout sensation at the Imperial Opera House, with tickets nearly impossible to come by. It's a shame I can't leave this place to see what it's even about." Iphatia could deeply empathize with having one's interests misaligned with one's talents. Talia: "..." Sandwiched between two geniuses and listening to them talk made her feel thoroughly uncomfortable. Forget it. As long as she accepted reality, she could still be a sunny, cheerful grand princess. "So where can we find her?" Lanqi felt it necessary to meet this imperial magic artificer—as soon as possible, if feasible. Since she had been willing to support Barton's construction project here, she could well become a capable ally. Her capabilities as a spatial magic artificer alone would give the Blood Clan quite a headache. Better yet if he could persuade her to join his magitech research initiative. With the backing of a heavyweight magitech scholar like Abigail, the empire would be far more inclined to confirm Landry as project lead. "I'll go talk to Barton. Barton and Abigail go way back," Iphatia said as she opened the silver palace's grand doors, which were covered in spatial barrier runes. Barton's network in the empire was formidable. Although Iphatia rarely pried into how Barton procured intelligence and resources each time, she trusted his capability and character implicitly. He would carry out every request to the best of his ability; both of them were rebels who bore irreconcilable grudges against the Blood Clan. Hearing Iphatia's words, Lanqi and Talia found it quite sensible. A mafia boss and an imperial magitech prodigy working as partners: the prodigy provided technical support, while the mafia offered gray-market channels. A win-win through and through. With a low hum of mechanical transmission, the heavy anti-magic steel doors slowly parted, and the clamor of the subterranean world came rushing back in. Outside, Barton's figure clad in a pitch-black trench coat came into view once more, half his body seemingly blended into the shadows. Barton Hall's gaze held unmistakable surprise. Waiting outside, he had naturally sensed the extraordinary combat fluctuations earlier. Landry was even stronger than he had imagined—to clash head-on with the boss and come out alive. Yet when the inside had grown silent for so long afterward, he had deduced that one side had fallen, only to be subdued and interrogated by the other. He had never anticipated that the two sides would end up settling on peace talks. "Barton, he is our partner from now on. Assist him as best you can," Iphatia briefly instructed Barton. She could not step beyond the spatial barrier's boundary. "Understood," Barton nodded in response. His eyes then shifted to the gray-haired, gold-eyed woman beside Lanqi. One person had gone in, yet two came out. When he had brought Professor Landry here, he hadn't noticed such a powerful figure tailing along at all. Barton wasn't sure whether this counted as a dereliction of his security duties. "Uh, Mr. Barton, this is my Epic summon. She possesses self-awareness," Lanqi pointed to Talia and explained. "I see." Barton didn't ask further questions. Some Epic summons were indeed sentient, even capable of mastering various skills and having pleasant personalities; card fanatics who treated female magic cards like their wives weren't unheard of either. An Epic summon capable of contending with the boss was clearly extraordinary. Prying too much wouldn't do any good, and might only put the other party in an awkward spot. "..." Barton's utter lack of questions actually made Lanqi and Talia feel a bit guilty. He wore an expression that said he understood everything without needing to be told, leaving Lanqi and Talia at a loss even if they wanted to offer an explanation. "Wait for my word," Lanqi waved goodbye to Iphatia. He would find a way to obtain the cure for the Blood King Divine Fire as soon as possible and bring her out. "I'm counting on you." She grinned, clasping her hands behind her back, seeing Lanqi off with high expectations. Watching them say their goodbyes, Barton blinked in bewilderment. How had their notoriously brutal eighth-rank demon boss turned into a sweet girl next door? Just what kind of play were they putting on?