SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS - Chapter 1002: The White Family’s Dilemma

Chapter 1002: The White Family’s Dilemma

Lily White stormed into the private courtyard where her mother, Madam Deo, was quietly pruning a sky-peach bonsai. Her elegant fingers paused as she sensed her daughter’s panicked steps approaching.

“Mother!” Lily called, nearly breathless.

Madam Deo turned, expression serene. “What is it now, Lily?”

Lily bit her lower lip, clutched her silk sleeve, and hesitated a moment before blurting, “Philip-Salt… he—he asked for the Heavenly Sword.”

The glass in Madam Deo’s hand slipped from her fingers.

“…He dared to ask what?” she asked slowly, voice low and sharp.

“He wants us to hand over the Heavenly Sword,” Lily said again, each word heavy like thunder. “He said it’s necessary for him to win Manuka Lan’s heart and bring back the Sword in Heart Manual.”

Madam Deo’s eyes narrowed. “That little brat! Since when did he grow such fangs?”

“Until now, we were so sure he was just a pawn… one we could throw away after using. But…” Lily’s voice softened. “Mother, he outsmarted us.”

Madam Deo’s breath slowed. She turned away, thinking deeply. “Clever. He forced us into a corner. He knows we need that manual. And he knows only Manuka Lan has access to it now. By offering himself as the bridge, he holds the cards.”

Lily nodded. “I thought he was bluffing, but when I looked into his eyes… it wasn’t like before. He didn’t look at me like I was some goddess. There was no flattery, no submission. Just… clarity.”

Madam Deo paced back and forth now. “If we refuse, he’ll walk away. He’ll woo Manuka openly, and we’ll never see that manual again. If we agree, we give away one of our oldest clan treasures to a man who may never return it.”

“What should we do, mother?” Lily whispered. “Is our only hope now to get the Sword in Heart from Manuka Lan? Is this truly our last chance?”

Madam Deo stopped pacing. “Yes. This is the only open window left. If she falls for him, the manual will follow. We can’t force her. We’ve tried poison, curse scrolls, puppet spells, love-binding slaves—we failed every time.”

Lily shuddered, remembering the failed attempts to infiltrate the Lan Clan’s inner sanctum.

“If we miss this opportunity, we won’t be able to get our hands on that treasure ever again.”

Madam Deo’s gaze was cold. “But that doesn’t mean we surrender the sword so easily. First… we test him. One final time.”

Lily’s eyebrows furrowed. “Test him how?”

“Seduction,” Madam Deo said with a wicked smile. “Go to him. Use every skill I’ve taught you. Make him yearn for you again. A man distracted by beauty is easier to control. If he still falls for you, we can string him along a little longer.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Lily asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“Then…” Madam Deo sighed. “Then we hand it over. But only as a last resort. We’ll frame it as a great sacrifice, to make him feel indebted.”

Lily blinked, uncertain. “I’m… not sure it’ll work. He’s changed. Stronger, colder.”

Madam Deo smirked. “Even the strongest man falls before a well-played smile and a soft hand on the cheek.”

A servant girl entered and bowed deeply. “Mistress Lily, a messenger from the Salt Clan has arrived.”

“Send him in,” Madam Deo ordered.

Moments later, a young page delivered a scroll bearing Philip’s personal seal. Madam Deo unrolled it and read quickly.

Her eyebrows rose. “He accepted your invitation.”

Lily’s lips parted slightly. “So soon?”

“He’s not wasting time,” Madam Deo said, folding the scroll. “Now go. Put on your softest expression. Let your touch speak. If he bends even a little, we win.”

Lily nodded slowly and turned to leave, her mind racing.

–

That same evening, in the Salt Clan estate…

Philip sat by the window in his courtyard, the moonlight silvering his robe. His eyes scanned the White Clan’s invitation again. The handwriting was elegant, charming—Lily’s style, trying to hide a trap in beauty.

He smiled faintly.

“She still thinks she can manipulate me,” he muttered.

With a flick of his sleeve, he turned and walked toward the inner chamber where his father, Elder Hamin Salt, was going over ancient clan records.

“Father,” Philip said, “I received an invitation from the White Clan. They’ve agreed to present the Heavenly Sword.”

Elder Hamin looked up slowly, placing the record scroll aside. “So. They took the bait.”

“They’ll still try something,” Philip said. “That family never gives without a hook in return.”

Hamin nodded. “Do you know what that sword is, Philip?”

“Not enough,” Philip admitted. “I came to learn more.”

Hamin motioned for him to sit. “The Heavenly Sword isn’t just a treasure. It’s a blood-bound legacy. Your great-grandfather fought the Sea Demon Lord for it. It holds not only divine edge but memory seals—any wielder must imprint their soul upon it. If they’ve tampered with that, they could inscribe a hidden seal into your spirit.”

Philip’s brows drew together. “I expected a curse or two. But soul seals…”

“It’s subtle. And dangerous. If they’re desperate, they may even link it to an obedience oath, disguised as a ’trust bond.’ You might find yourself agreeing with their plans without realizing why.”

Philip’s gaze hardened. “Then I must be sharper than their schemes.”

Hamin smiled faintly. “You’re already steps ahead. You’ve made them nervous. That’s a good sign.”

Philip stood and folded his hands behind his back. “If they want to play this game, let them. I’ll accept their invitation. I’ll take their sword.”

He turned and looked out at the rising moon.

“But I’ll make sure the blade only cuts for me.”

–

Later that night…

Phillip Salt sat at his desk, lost in quiet thought, when a light tapping broke the silence. He turned his head, puzzled.

At the door stood a sleek silver-winged squirrel, a rare messenger beast from the Lan family. It blinked its intelligent eyes, then hopped forward and placed a small scroll tied in blue ribbon on the table before him.

Phillip raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got good timing.”

Unrolling the letter, his gaze sharpened as he read the familiar handwriting.

Phillip,

They’ve confined me to the Blue Lotus Pavilion. Two guards watch my every move. My family believes they can lock away my thoughts along with my body.

But I’m not theirs to command. I choose who I meet. I choose what I feel.

Come and meet me at midnight. I want answers. I want the truth—from you.

—Manuka Lan

He folded the scroll carefully and slipped it inside his robe.

“So… they locked the door,” he muttered with a smirk. “Good thing I can break doors.”

Without another word, he rose from his seat and walked to the window, staring out at the moonlit city. The wind carried the faint scent of plum blossoms.

Midnight wasn’t far.

And neither was he.