Little Pink Starfish

If Jekko were here in the reception room, he would probably have a lot to talk about with Finn Rayne. After all, back then, Jekko had been just as baffled—how exactly had he been exposed?

And now, Finn Rayne was just as lost.

This branch leader of the Mage Association was undeniably a talented administrator—otherwise, he wouldn’t be a top contender for the next Grand Master. His leadership inspired obedience, and those under his command rarely disobeyed. Finn Rayne suspected someone had accidentally leaked their movements… but if that were the case, wouldn’t that idiot have realized it by now? Typically, such incidents were reported to him immediately.

Communication among mages wasn’t difficult—especially with the Mage Association’s systems in place.

Rushing out of Red Maple Castle, Finn Rayne didn’t bother offering any explanations. He knew the count’s temperament well enough—if Eagle had declared war, then reconciliation was off the table.

“He’s still too young… He doesn’t understand the full might of the Mage Association,” said Annis beside him.

This mission wasn’t originally Annis’s. After staying in the Frost Maple Domain for a while, he had realized he’d been played by Roys and Jona. But it was too late for regrets, and with Finn Rayne present now, Annis felt considerably more confident.

Finn Rayne, however, looked displeased. For him, the plan had already collapsed.

Just as they were about to leave Red Maple Castle, a figure appeared in their path—a man with a weary yet resolute face, holding a sword.

The seven mages halted. One of the younger ones moved to drive the man away, but Finn Rayne stopped him.

“Sadin Brisk,” he said. Before coming, he had done his homework on Eagle Lanno—unlike Roys and Jona, who had barged in blindly and been thrown out. “Are you sure you want to get involved in this?”

The Mage Association had long backed off out of deference to Mebreck, the legendary mage. But now, they had no intention of backing off just because of Sadin, a Sword Saint.

To be fair, Finn Rayne, while not a legendary mage himself, was no slouch. Nor were Annis and Curse Magpie. As the branch head, he had cards up his sleeve and didn’t fear facing off against a Sword Saint.

Sadin sighed. “Sword Saint? I’m still not used to that title. You see, not long ago, I was just Duke Burke Angre’s knight—and had planned to stay that way forever. But the duke is gone now, and I have no place to return to. Still, before he died, he asked me to protect the young master. So that’s what I’ll do.”

He looked calmly at the robed mages before him, still dressed in his simple tunic. “I’m not like other Sword Saints. I have no attachments. I won’t retreat. I will fight until death.”

The young mages didn’t quite grasp what he meant, but Finn Rayne felt a chill.

He knew of Burke Angre’s death. He understood that Sadin, a loyal knight, must be at his most sorrowful now—and unlike most Sword Saints, Sadin would truly fight to the death.

Whether a Sword Saint or a legendary mage, both were top-tier powerhouses on the continent. Finn Rayne might be able to repel one, but not one who was willing to throw away his life.

Most people at that level were, understandably, cautious with their lives. They rarely fought at full strength.

But Sadin wasn’t one of them.

Finn Rayne forced a smile. “So, you intend to kill us by standing here?”

Sadin countered, “The young master said this is war. What do you think war looks like? Would you spare your enemies on the battlefield? I’m here to kill you.”

Finn Rayne’s face instantly darkened.

Inside the castle, Eagle stood by the window and looked toward Sadin. “Why hasn’t he started yet? He talks too much.”

“Sadin is a knight,” Pei Sen replied, glancing at the wooden box Sadin had just set down. “Young master, is Sadin really okay taking on all those mages by himself?”

“If he doesn’t intentionally throw his life away, he’ll be fine,” Eagle said calmly. “I know the Mage Association has its tricks, but Sadin is stronger than most Sword Saints.”

Pei Sen was surprised. “He’s stronger than average?”

“Very. Most Sword Saints rely on potions or enhancements to break through. Sadin not only never used such aids—he deliberately suppressed his strength to avoid advancing for years. When he finally broke through, no one even noticed. That’s how well he continued to restrain himself—every moment.”

Over the years, Eagle had come to understand Sadin better than anyone. Many things Sadin had hidden from the world… he could never hide from Eagle.

“He’s not some recently promoted Sword Saint, and if Finn Rayne thinks so—he’s in for a rude awakening,” Eagle murmured.

Pei Sen didn’t doubt Eagle’s judgment. He quickly turned back toward the window—after all, he was a swordsman too, and seeing a Sword Saint in action was rare!

Just then, snow began to fall. Before the arrival of spring…

In that dim snowfall, Sadin, long accustomed to restraint, continued to suppress his strength and emotions—even though both had already reached the limits of control.

But now, he no longer needed to hold back—for the one he had stayed by had died.

Sadin exhaled, and a terrifying force spread from his body, shredding every snowflake within several meters. His sword glowed faintly.

Though he hadn’t struck yet, Finn Rayne—closest to him—already felt a pain on his face as if slashed by blades. He instinctively stepped back, alarm rising in his heart.

While Sadin held off Finn Rayne’s group, players began pouring into Red Maple City. Soon, the city was completely surrounded.

Outside the gates, Claude anxiously stood on tiptoes, trying to see in. But all he saw were dense crowds. He had logged in just a bit late, and now couldn’t get in at all.

Unlike the early days when players charged in blindly, guild organization now brought discipline. Players gathered by guilds, blocking every gate. Solo players like Claude couldn’t just squeeze in. He wanted to meet up with BraisedSpicySnack and the others, but it was impossible.

“There’s way too many people…” Claude muttered. “The rewards are nice, but the territory decree is random. Who knows who’ll get it.”

Even as a rich second-gen in real life, Claude couldn’t just throw money at a decree—they were that rare.

A nearby player said optimistically, “Maybe it’ll land on me! Either way, I’m getting in and tagging a red-name NPC.”

Otherwise, the system might not count them as part of the quest.

Meanwhile, the city’s residents were bewildered. A massive crowd of Bix had surged in, clearly aggressive, but no one knew why.

There were over a hundred mages inside the city. Finn Rayne hadn’t originally planned for full-scale war—just to storm Red Maple Castle and pressure Eagle. These numbers were already enough to challenge the castle’s forces.

Had they not been exposed, the mages could’ve silently infiltrated the castle at night using magic. Especially with Finn Rayne bringing the Association’s top illusionist—Tichean, Jona’s mentor—who was on the cusp of becoming a legendary mage.

Even now, though still a high-level mage, she could cast large-scale illusions that prevented people from noticing anything unusual.

That had been the plan.

But now, as more and more Bix filled the streets, the mages inside grew nervous.

“Lady Tichean, what’s going on? Were we discovered?”

“No,” a nearby mage said, “a few people were spying on us, but they were taken care of. No big deal.”

Tichean frowned and turned to him. “Aemon, people were watching us?”

“Yes, ma’am. But we’ve handled it—left no trace.”

She nodded, then asked sharply, “Are you sure they were ordinary people, and not Bix?”

Aemon froze. That… he wasn’t sure of.

The Bix looked nearly identical to normal people. The only difference was that, upon death, they turned to skeletons and revived elsewhere.

That was intelligence obtained from the Church of Light.

The church called players “Abyssal Non-Humans,” primarily because of their inability to die. They hadn’t broadcast this fact widely, but the Mage Association, with its spies, had learned of it early.

Aemon and his team had used brutal methods to eliminate anyone watching them—leaving nothing behind. But in doing so, they had no way of knowing whether they had killed Bix or not.

Tichean looked out at the packed streets. Her expression turned grim.

Not long ago, she had lost contact with the Guildmaster—and the Bix presence had grown overwhelming.

This was bad.

“Everyone, gather. We may be in serious trouble,” she warned, gripping a scroll in her hand—a pre-prepared teleportation scroll. Finn Rayne wasn’t stupid. He knew the Bix excelled at group combat. If things went south, Tichean was to immediately tear the scroll and evacuate the mages.

Every mage here was an elite. Finn Rayne hadn’t come for a suicidal fight.

Just then, the building door burst open. Countless people flooded in!

“Damn it, Heaven’s Crown! You broke the door!”

“Why are these NPCs huddled together in such a tiny place? How are we supposed to fight like this?!”

“Sky Ocean Pavilion, follow me! We’ll go around and in through the window!”

“Red Maple, take the side wall! Climb the roof, quick!”

Everyone wanted to land a hit on the “quest mobs.” But the building was too packed—even getting close was hard.

“Shit, the BOSS has the scroll—she’s going to escape!”

“Mages, interrupt her!” a guild officer shouted hoarsely. “Everyone else fall back! Give the mages space!”

A line of mage players stepped forward. Under coordinated command, they began casting a simple mental disruption spell—“Howl.”

It was an apprentice-level spell with a minor disorienting effect—just 0.1 seconds. Normally negligible.

Tichean had found it laughable at first… until she realized just how many mages were casting it.

One mage caused 0.1s disorientation. What about ten? A hundred?

The players weren’t casting blindly. Their timing was tightly controlled—spell after spell chained seamlessly.

“This can’t be! How are there so many mages in the Bix ranks?!”

The spell “Howl” was something Pei Sen had added to the faction shop after learning it himself. Its only real use was as a prerequisite for the higher-level spell “Banshee’s Wail.”

When Pei Sen had first added it, it sold poorly—players didn’t want to risk investing in spells they might not even learn.

But those who stuck with the mage class tended to be good at math and memorization. These players now performed admirably, chaining spells without giving Tichean a single chance to act.

Other guild mages joined in too. The coordination wasn’t perfect—but it didn’t have to be.

“Focus fire! Don’t let the BOSS use that scroll!”

The Association had brought only one group teleport scroll—held by their strongest mage, Tichean. With her locked down, the others had no chance of escape. They might have short-range teleportation spells, but the players weren’t giving them any cast time.

Swords stabbed in from every angle. The pampered mages huddled together, experiencing humiliation like never before.

Luckily, they were in a warehouse—not out in the open—or they’d have been completely overrun.

Even then, the warehouse wouldn’t last long. Players had started demolishing the walls.

They were experts at this. Many had done it before.

BraisedSpicySnack, one of the earliest players from Alpha, even pulled a sledgehammer from his inventory—a relic from Golden Rose Manor’s early handouts.

“Make way! We’re tearing down the walls! Easier to fight!”

BOOM!

The whole warehouse collapsed. Even in Red Maple Castle, the noise could be heard.

Finn Rayne barely dodged a blow from Sadin, his heart sinking with dread.

What was Tichean doing?! Had she engaged with the Bix already? Why hadn’t she retreated?!

He felt a surge of anger. Across from him, Sadin smiled. “Still distracted at a time like this?”

Yes… at a time like this.

Annis was gravely wounded. Curse Magpie lay unconscious. The four younger mages were captured by Ichabod. Finn Rayne knew he wouldn’t last much longer against Sadin.

But what worried him most was Tichean’s situation.

Why hadn’t she escaped using the scroll?!

Tichean wanted to run—she really did. But every time she tried to activate the teleportation scroll, her hand shook like she had Parkinson’s. She was utterly, hopelessly controlled.

Being locked down by a horde of apprentice mages—Tichean was ready to die of embarrassment.

The mere thought of this leaking out made her dizzy.

The world truly had it out for her.