Luo Lan tiptoed down from the bell tower. The night wind poured in through the narrow window cracks, sending a chill down his back.
He held his breath, tilting his ear to listen. Only after confirming there was no movement below did he continue his descent.
Just as he thought it was safe, a shadow suddenly lunged at him from the side.
Luo Lan had no time to react before he was slammed and sent flying.
In mid-air, he twisted his waist to regain balance, his fingers plunging into the Magic Backpack and grabbing at random until he found a Red Scarf. Without a second thought, he pulled it out and covered his face.
He managed to disperse most of the impact as he landed, sliding half a meter across the ground before barely steadying himself.
The young man looked up.
The newcomer was wrapped in pitch-black armor, not a trace of skin exposed. The helmet’s visor was tightly sealed; the only visible part was a few strands of golden hair peeking out from where the helmet joined the armor, gleaming faintly in the night.
The figure didn’t immediately pursue, but simply stood there in silence, as if observing him.
In the next instant, magical radiance flickered—like meteors streaking through the night sky.
Two figures darted swiftly between buildings, one ahead, the other in pursuit.
Luo Lan’s toes tapped across rooftop tiles, the wind flapping his clothes. The Red Scarf covering his face fluttered in the night like a flying battle flag.
The chase carried the pair all the way from the noble district to the old quarters of Valgard.
The armored figure was, of course, Ophelia in disguise. She and the masked Luo Lan both kept silent, yet their silent battle only grew more intense and astonishing.
The girl had never imagined that this masked fellow would be so troublesome. Every spell she cast was calmly neutralized by the other, either dodged at the very last angle or redirected with another spell.
What unsettled Ophelia even more was that the other seemed almost able to read her mind, always anticipating her next move.
This sense of frustration made Ophelia bite her lip behind her visor, irritation swirling stronger and stronger in her heart.
Truthfully, it was much the same for Luo Lan.
Though he appeared calm and in control, only he knew: if he hadn’t sparred with her so many times in the previous cycle, if not for the extra edge Conceptual Fantasy gave him, and if not for his Secret Arts Master’s near-instinctive perception of magic flows… Without those three advantages, he’d have already been flattened by Ophelia.
This Ophelia was far stronger than the one from the previous cycle.
So strong it startled him.
“Unfair… How can she keep getting stronger…”
Maintaining distance, Luo Lan grumbled silently in his heart.
What kind of nonsense is this?
To Luo Lan, Ophelia’s talent was truly extraordinary.
After just a few rounds, she began to mimic his method of predicting teleportation by detecting the faint magical fluctuations at his destination.
So Luo Lan had no choice but to deliberately leave more obvious signals during his teleports, baiting her into misjudging the direction and keeping their distance.
Even so, he couldn’t help but smile wryly inside.
So this is Main Character Power? No wonder it’s so terrifying.
But Ophelia, too, was constantly criticizing the red-scarf-masked figure in her mind.
She had sensed someone spying on her in the courtyard and had assumed it was just an ordinary petty thief—one of those who lurked in the night for valuables, hardly worth mentioning.
Her mood had been sour lately, and her reunion with Krovey felt like a stone pressing on her chest. All those unspoken words and irretrievable memories left her mind in turmoil. That’s why Ophelia didn’t alert the guards or knights, choosing to handle it herself—if nothing else, as an outlet for her frustration.
But the girl had never imagined her opponent would be this difficult.
She was determined to enter Altras Academy’s Heaven’s Crown Class, yet here she was being toyed with by a common thief!
Every time Ophelia thought she’d finally caught her target, he would slip away at an impossible angle, as if he could see through all her thoughts.
Worse still, the fellow clearly had the strength to fight back, but always dodged instead, as if mocking her.
Ophelia dashed through the night wind, eyes locked on the masked figure with the Red Scarf ahead.
He didn’t look much older than her. Judging by his build and the half-visible face, he was likely around her age—seventeen or eighteen at most.
Aside from his battle skills, which seemed honed in blood, what was even more alarming was his magic.
Ophelia had trained in a harsh, nearly brutal environment since she was young, holding herself to the highest standards. All of this came from the heavy wish in her heart.
To help Krovey return to the royal capital, Valgard.
For the sake of her once and only friend, she would help her reclaim everything she’d lost.
But before anything had even begun, she had already encountered such a monster.
Someone her age, yet whose magical power and mastery left her far behind.
When did the royal capital produce someone like this? Why had she never heard of him? The family’s intelligence networks, all those eyes and ears—none had ever reported such a person to her.
How could Ophelia not feel frustrated?
Countless thoughts swirled in the girl’s mind, impossible to calm. And just then, the sound of synchronized wind came from afar.
Luo Lan, who was ahead, froze for a moment, his pupils contracting.
It was a sound unique to the Royal Capital Guard—he knew it too well.
He twisted around and saw two squads of Royal Capital Guards closing in from east and west.
By moonlight, he could see their silver-armored figures leaping across rooftops, like a pack of hunting silver wolves.
Ophelia’s heart also sank. She recognized those uniforms, and the faint aura of oppression that came with them.
Every Royal Capital Guard was elite among elites. Martial skill was only the basic requirement; more troublesome was their solid command of magic. Add in their Enchanted Equipment and the way they coordinated with the magic-knight teams, and they became a truly formidable force.
On the eve of the Holy Codex Opening Ceremony, security in the capital was at its highest. Any unusual activity drew maximum scrutiny—let alone a public magical duel like this.
Ophelia clenched her teeth. She could already imagine the rumors that would spread once she was caught.
Damn it!
The words flashed through both Luo Lan’s and Ophelia’s minds at the same time.
Luo Lan looked up, his gaze cutting through the night and meeting Ophelia’s behind him.
He saw her amber eyes beneath the visor, filled with frustration and unwillingness—and a trace of grievance even she hadn’t noticed.
She saw his pitch-black eyes above the Red Scarf—deep as ink, like the night sky over their heads.
In that instant, they both read the same meaning in each other’s eyes.
Run.
Get away, now.
If either of them were caught at this critical moment, there would be hell to pay.
It was Luo Lan’s memory that helped him shake off the Royal Capital Guard.
Familiar with every street of the capital—he could wander blindfolded—he finally eluded his pursuers.
But Luo Lan didn’t leave. He hid in the shadows, quietly watching the direction in which Ophelia fled.
She was nowhere near as familiar with Valgard as he was. Moreover, after a prolonged battle with Luo Lan, Ophelia had ignored her own magical depletion, only realizing the danger when she was already surrounded.
But it was too late.
Ophelia darted into an alley in panic, doffed her armor and stashed it in her Magic Pocket, then pressed her back to the wall, struggling to steady her breathing—her heart refusing to slow.
Both ends of the alley were blocked, the encirclement complete. The silver-armored guards surged in like a tide, combing through every corner without mercy.
She could hear their murmured conversations, the faint hum of Enchanted Equipment, even her own blood thundering in her ears.
As the guards were about to come face to face with Ophelia and she steeled herself internally, a hand reached out from the darkness and covered her mouth. Another arm wrapped around her waist, yanking her deeper into the shadows.
Her back slammed against a cold stone wall, the pain making her nearly cry out. But as if foreseeing her reaction, her assailant quickly covered her eyes.
The world plunged into darkness.
Then, Ophelia felt a layer of warmth pressing against her slightly dry lips.
Her mind went blank in an instant; all the thoughts from earlier were shredded to pieces. Her body stiffened, numb down to her fingertips.
The lips pressing against hers were cautious, and the girl could feel his breath—urgent but restrained—with a faintly familiar magical ripple.
The guards’ footsteps grew closer and closer, but a man’s voice sounded by her ear.
“Please, just cooperate. You don’t want to be found by the Royal Capital Guard at a time like this, do you?”
That voice… Why did it sound so familiar?
Ophelia heard the guards’ steps stop nearby, so close she could hear the faint clink of their armor.
The hand covering her eyes didn’t let go. The other slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, pulling her in closer, just like lovers who couldn’t restrain themselves.
Ophelia felt her breath being stolen away, her body going weak. She wanted to resist, but at this moment she couldn’t move—nor dared to. All she could do was let him hold her and allow this offensive, damnable kiss to go on.
After a while, the guards’ footsteps faded, and silence returned.
Still in a daze, Ophelia was suddenly released. Instinctively, she leaned forward, only to have a finger gently press against her lips.
Coming to her senses, she shoved him away hard. In her gleaming eyes, besides the burning fury, there was also a trace of panic even she hadn’t noticed.
Ophelia glared at the man who had once again masked himself with the Red Scarf, her voice cold as a blade.
“Do you know who I am? Are you tired of living?”