Chapter 116: The Gift of the Eye of the Firmament

The youth propped himself up and noticed he had once again arrived at an unfamiliar space without knowing it. A dim, magical radiance enveloped the surroundings. This place seemed to be the laboratory of the one called the Eye of the Firmament, evidenced by the various crystal artifacts placed everywhere and the things in the youth’s memory that were somewhat related to divination magic. At the moment, where the old mage stood, within a massive crystal, a misty, cloud-like image was frozen on a giant maw filled with fangs. This was precisely why he had voiced his confusion.

“Please forgive me, young man. Out of curiosity, I took a small peek into your memories…” The old man, known as the Eye of the Firmament, revealed a somewhat awkward smile from beneath his neatly trimmed white beard. He flicked his fingers gently, and the turbulent images on the massive crystal vanished. “You know, it’s somewhat hard to control… I believe you can forgive a mage, or rather, this bit of curiosity from an old man, can you not?”

“Master, if possible, I would like to understand the origin of this memory…” Constantine propped himself up and rubbed his temples to ease the lingering tingling in his head. He chose to ignore the old man’s actions… This old fellow, known as the Eye of the Firmament, having a bad habit of peeking into everything was not strange at all. Legend had it that all important places on the entire continent were under his surveillance; he even knew the King’s private life in detail. What could a minor Viscount like himself pursue? Moreover, now was the time he needed answers from him. Pursuing such a trivial matter would only be troublesome.

“I have already told you, it is a certain kind of memory etched into your bloodline… Oh, to be precise, it is not actually very related to your destiny. It should be considered…” The old man took a few steps forward, and then two exquisite chairs appeared out of thin air on the obsidian floor. The old man gestured for the youth to sit and talk. “Well, just an extra little thing outside of your destiny…”

“Destiny… is it? Master Archmage Callistus, as an exchange for watching that interesting memory, might I have the honor of hearing your prediction regarding my destiny?” A word caught Constantine’s interest. This old man’s greatest specialty was not peeking, but prophecy. In this world where deities existed, prophets were not the shabby-clothed tricksters or alarmist charlatans from the youth’s memories. Those who gazed at the path of the Wheel of Fate were perhaps even rarer than Necromancers who were friends with death. Even among mages who studied Divination Magic, those truly capable of this could be counted on one hand.

“Constantine… Mm, allow me to address you this way… As a spellcaster, I think you probably are not yet aware of one thing… In this world, almost nothing is impossible. As long as you are strong enough, slaying dragons or even killing deities is not a hopeless fantasy. Except for one thing—clearly predicting a person’s destiny.” The desired answer was not given—perhaps a nerve had been touched—for the old mage’s expression suddenly turned serious.

The sudden admonishment left the youth somewhat stunned, but soon the other party returned to his familiar state.

“Haha… When one gets old, one tends to talk a bit too much… Young man, often people come asking me the same question… However, I believe you should also understand, they are often not very interested in destiny itself, but care more about how to change it… And they believe they have the power to change it…”

“I rather think, towards our own destinies, it’s enough to maintain sufficient respect… Just like respecting the starry sky above our heads…” The youth habitually scratched his nose to keep his emotions from showing. After experiencing rebirth, he had long gained a deeper understanding of that seemingly elusive word—destiny.

“The future is always obscure and full of uncertainty. This is also the most helpless point for a Diviner. What they face is a destiny as vast and dense as brilliant stars. Perhaps your prediction is correct, but peeking at a tiny corner of the future means stepping onto a different fork in the road from when you were ignorant… Destiny is a turbulent, boundless ocean, let alone in this world where deities wage battles within its waves?” The old mage’s gaze swept over Constantine, his voice becoming somewhat ethereal. “Of course, I would not hoard those meager skills… It’s just that predicting and deducing a person’s path of destiny is perilous. A slight misstep leads astray. Thus, often even two predictions made by the same mage for the same person can yield results completely opposite to reality. For example, your destiny… After recalling the scene just now, your destiny has already stepped onto another, entirely different path.”

The youth rubbed his nose, recalling that inexplicable memory just now, then suddenly raised his head—the other’s reminder seemed to have indeed given him a small inspiration.

For thousands of years, greed for wealth and fame drove people to develop countless equipment and magic targeting the various weaknesses of dragons. Dragon Slaying Potion was one of them. This potion, refuted by dragons as the most shameless, was created based on the characteristics of dragon scales and dragon blood. It could reduce the defensive effect of dragon scales to the limit, making weapons more likely to pierce a dragon’s defenses and nullifying the powerful regenerative ability of dragon blood. Like septicemia in humans, it made dragons lose vitality, along with their two formidable advantages. It was said that in one era, relying on the help of this potion, Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and other Humanoid Creatures fought against the powerful Dragonkin, eventually driving the rulers of these creatures from their dominant thrones and winning living space from the Western Continent…

“Presumably, you have realized something… Yes?” The old man revealed a smile from beneath his beard.

However, at this moment, Constantine’s slight joy soon turned into helplessness—matching the power of the Dragonkin, the Dragon Slaying Potion was also exceptionally scarce. It was said that even Alchemists who had reached the master level might not be able to craft it successfully, not to mention its formula was almost lost to history. Relying on it himself was clearly not an easy thing.

“Since Vernal and Nikolai are both taking some measures regarding your situation, naturally, I cannot just stand by. So… take this as my small, insignificant aid, hoping to steer your destiny toward a slightly more pleasant direction…”

The change in the youth’s expression clearly did not escape the old mage’s narrowed eyes. After a moment of thought, the Archmage reached out; in his white, slender palm lay a ring.

Constantine narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of peculiar light flickering in them. He noticed a detailed magic array was engraved on that silver ring—it was clearly a quite powerful array, with faintly discernible magic symbols flying in and out of it constantly. The ring itself was entirely wrapped in a delicate silver glow. If one guessed correctly, that was Mithril. It was engraved with countless intricate patterns and words, some of which had appeared in the magic arrays he had drawn, some should be the ancient magic words he had chanted. Their specific meanings had long been buried in the dust of history…

“This is something I obtained in my early years, carrying some secrets of space within it. With a little Mental Power to activate it, it can produce the effect of a dimension door, usable three times a day… Of course, if you gain some understanding in the use of Mental Power, you can use the higher-tier teleportation spell. However, given your current state, I don’t recommend you do that. Spell turbulence would be rather damaging for you.”

The old mage’s explanation made the youth pause, and then he felt an uncontrollable trickle of emotion gradually forming a feeling called joy within his heart.

Although the Teleportation Spell was not an especially high-level spell, it was something many mages dreamed of, and for good reason. With teleportation at hand, one need not fear most dangers on this Plane—even in the most unfavorable situations, at least one could escape. This was also why a mage touching the fifth layer of the Weave of Magic was considered a step from low to high tier, marking the beginning of distinction. Because from then on, one could master teleportation. With this spell, unless encountering a first-rate Spellcaster who sealed the entire space and completely cut off teleportation, at the very least, one was firmly in a position of invincibility. Even besieged by thousands of troops, one could always preserve their life.

And a dimension door could actually be seen as a simplified version of the teleportation spell. Although the distance was greatly reduced, the effect was not too different. This ring was clearly even more precious than that dragon-avoiding ring. For Constantine, who had just touched the third layer of spells, this was indeed a huge surprise…

But when the youth eagerly slipped the ring onto his finger, a strange power suddenly flowed along the silver patterns in its band, entering his body and then feeding back from somewhere, forming a perfect cycle. Constantine felt the Arcane Energy fluctuations around him suddenly become stable and heavy. Yet, at the same time, a terrifying feeling suddenly rose in his heart, as if he was about to be swallowed by something.

The feeling came fast and left fast, lasting only a brief moment. Constantine was just slightly startled when that peculiar sensation vanished without a trace.

“Alright… Having gone through this series of events, I think you must be quite tired… That girl Christine is still waiting for you… When she suddenly brought you here, I was quite startled, oh… really, it’s just that Nikolai happened to be away, but her nervousness…” The old mage suddenly laughed, the teasing meaning making Constantine feel somewhat embarrassed too. So he quickly performed a common courtesy gesture between mages and, before the other finished speaking, vanished into the teleportation array.

“How will it go… At this age, I can still participate in such an interesting destiny… Perhaps I am lucky?”

Watching the youth’s body turn into specks of shimmering light, the old mage shook his head, stood up, and gently placed his hand on that massive crystal… Then, misty fog suddenly swirled within! It spread, scattered, revealing a picture filled with dark red inside—it seemed like flames, and yet like smoke and dust… The crystal flickered, but remained hazy. Only the humanoid shadow at its center, in the dim magical lighting of the room, slowly undulated, revealing a shining silver ring-shaped magic array and blood-colored runes surrounding it within.

…

Silver light and shadow flickered before him. Grant narrowed his eyes slightly, feeling his mouth go dry.

The young man’s throat bobbed repeatedly, but he could not squeeze out any more saliva. If Constantine stood before him now, he would probably be shocked by the change in this son of the president of the Clover Guild. The arrogance from daytime had long disappeared. This young master now behaved like an obedient servant.

He stood in a spacious room. Luxurious oak paneling and a long camelhair rug, a blazing fire burned in the fireplace, making the reception hall as warm as spring. The elegant rosewood furniture and the valuable paintings on the four walls were enough to make this room the most comfortable place. But Grant’s forehead was covered in sweat now. His hands gripped his clothing tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. However, no matter what, he could only stand upright, slightly lowering his gaze, striving to maintain a respectful posture—facing the slender silver figure sitting in his most comfortable chair not far away.

It was a woman, and an extremely beautiful one at that.

Her figure could only be described as perfect—almost every curve was flawless. Though most of it was concealed under a silver dress made of unknown material, even the bit of exposed skin’s whiteness alone was enough to drive men mad. And she was now raising a glass of wine to take a light sip. Every movement between raising her hand and setting it down, each graceful curve revealed under that silver dress, was exquisite and elegant to the extreme, making one’s heart yearn for her uncontrollably.

Yearn for her? Indeed, if possible, every normal man would naturally desire to have closer contact with her. Especially with the woman’s current expression, slightly frowning—the kind of expression that invoked pity—was enough to drive most male creatures in this world wild.

But Grant was not wild… He dared not be wild…

Of course, this wasn’t because he possessed special Mental Power—compared to Grant’s still somewhat elegant posture, the four burly, fully armed men standing behind him were far worse… Their muscular faces, covered in scars and filled with a fierce aura, now all lingered in the corners of the room. Not one of them was willing to approach the silver figure… Not only that, gritting his teeth, he noticed these fellows who usually bragged about their unmatched bravery in front of him even struggled to keep their gaze on her. Whenever that beautiful figure entered their sight, they instinctively looked away at once. It was as if there was an invisible force within that could harm them.

“A bunch of fools! Kobold-born, Werewolf-raised trash! I’ll kick you all out later and chop you into pulp!” Gritting his teeth, a lowly curse found only in Goblin vocabulary popped into the young master’s head. Of course, this curse could only exist in his mind—he didn’t even dare breathe heavily now.

Although relying on his family’s doting, he seldom cared about common sense matters, he was not the kind of fool who idled away his life eating and waiting for death. On the contrary, precisely because he spared little thought on certain aspects, he was abnormally sensitive to other parts—he had long learned to use all forces for his own service.

But obviously, he had now discovered that there were too many things in this world beyond human control. Even with the support of the entire Clover Merchant Guild and even larger forces behind him!

He had merely intended to utilize this woman’s power to eliminate rivals for himself—in fact, he had succeeded, at least five times or more. Five former great enemies were annihilated as easily as crushing dead wood… But he never imagined that this person he encountered by chance would have an identity he completely could not control!

“You, do you know that person’s identity?”

The woman shrouded in silver light suddenly spoke. Her voice was clear but low, carrying a soft feeling. Yet, at the moment she spoke, everyone in the room trembled as if hearing thunderclaps.

“We have already investigated… But judging from his emblem, I think he should be a Viscount of the Empire… Not many humans of his age can attain such a status, so I believe we can find out soon.”

Swallowing again, Grant answered respectfully. Then, he added,

“My subordinates here… though their martial skills are lowly, fortunately they have considerable numbers and have a little bit of confidence in gathering information… Though not of much great use, I think they can offer a tiny bit of service for Your Ladyship’s matters.”

“Oh…” The silver-haired woman said nothing more, only uttering a noncommittal sound.

So Grant bowed and turned to leave.

“As long as you find out the intentions behind the other party, you can profit from them. And the greater the other party’s intentions, the bigger the benefits I might gain—there is always profit to be made.” The room door closed behind him. The young master muttered to himself, quoting the famous saying of the legendary merchant, Truenik.