Age of Adepts

Chapter 722



The return of the clan’s main force bolstered the morale of the Crimson Clan.

Some time ago, the clan had almost sealed off the Fire Cave that led to Fire Throne in order to prevent the tower from being invaded by enemies while it was relatively undefended.

Of course, no such problems existed now.

Fire Throne, Magma Hall, and Fire Cave were once again open to the public. The mercenaries, adventurers, and apprentices that had been waiting all along had surged into the underground adept’s tower, turning it into a lively place once again.

Moreover, any of the outsiders that entered Fire Throne immediately discovered some things that were compeletely different from before.

First, the tower’s defense system had become even stricter.

In the past, Fire Throne’s security and patrolling tasks had always been managed by the manticores and the security arrays due to a lack of sufficient voodoo beasts. Now, these menial and tiresome jobs were left to some odd magical machines.

Unlike the usual metallic golems that other towers had, these magical machines had clear signs of otherworldly styles and designs. The energy circulation and combat systems were also radically different from the golem constructs of the World of Adepts.

It was deep in the winter.

A delicate and luxurious noble’s carriage slowly cruised along the forest road.

The last trace of sunlight vanished under the dark sea of trees over the distant horizon, causing the road to turn dark and sinister.

Even though the large carnivorous beasts in the nearby woods had mostly been driven away, it was still dangerous to travel through here alone at night.

Willems pulled apart the curtains of the carriage and gazed into the deep and sprawling forest as he fell into deep thought.

The cold night breeze entered the carriage along the road, chilling him to his bones and causing him to shiver.

Willems tugged on the delicate noble’s cape he wore and covered the equally fancy armor beneath it. As the eldest son of the Andorras, he was a noble with the title of Baron. He had also learned the ways of horsemanship and horseback fighting with knights and wasn’t simply an entitled and weak noble.

It was at this moment that a desolate and drawn-out wolf’s howl rang out from the depths of the forest, instantly throwing Willems into a panic.

“Jem, can we reach Fire Throne by tonight?” Finally, the long and lonely trip made him ask this childish question to the butler and coachman that had followed him all these years.

“My Lord, I’m afraid we can’t reach it tonight!” Coachman Jem blew out a breath of warm air from his mouth to warm his hands as he said, “There’s still over twenty kilometers of mountain road from here to Fire Throne. We will probably have to stop and stay over at Goathorn Village.”

“Goathorn Village.” Just the lowly and crude name alone informed Willems of how shabby the place was. It probably had no facilities and only consisted of rundown straw houses.

That meant no warm and comfortable guest rooms, no delicious bread or warm soup, and definitely no beautiful ladies that could uplift his spirits. Willems became irritated, once again uncertain of the mission he bore upon his shoulders.

The man sighed helplessly and let go of the curtains, blocking out the cool air from the outside.

Once Willems’ mood had recovered, he took out the ancient and elegant magical parchment and unrolled it.

The delicate lines of words written on the parchment with magical ink appeared before his eyes.

“……hereby appoints the eldest son of the Andorra family, Baron Willems, to proceed to XXX and take charge of all the land, produce, and population there. He is to be the undisputed ruler.”

At the end of the parchment, the unique magical seal of the Zhentarim Association could be seen, along with the magical brand of two of its elders.

There was a new lord for this place!


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