Chapter CXXXVIII

The group standing before Enola matched the descriptions they had heard in Pinetop.

Two young women with a baby, supposedly refugees from the abandoned regions. One of the two young men was dressed in long dark robes, while the other usually remained at their house outside the city.

And finally, and most importantly, the poorly dressed young man named Nero.

From what she could see, he looked perhaps a little younger than herself, dressed in clothes that many peasants would refuse to wear.

An appearance that clashed violently with everything they had heard about his abilities.

Throughout their journey here, where they had expected to find nothing more than Nero's trail. They had repeatedly debated whether the reports from the caravan that had encountered him had been exaggerated.

The variety and sheer power of the spells he had supposedly used should have been impossible.

Even for someone like her own master, Eran.

But their arrival in Pinetop, and the events that had occurred there that very day, had apparently confirmed at least part of the stories.

This Nero and his companions really did exist, something that in itself wasn't guaranteed.

And Nero himself truly was a powerful mage.

The troubling part was that he had been described as a summoner, having apparently summoned skeletons to help rescue orphans from a cult. That alone was strange enough, even considering the earlier reports had also claimed he had helped defend a caravan from bandits.

But what was truly odd was that he had also been reported using powerful fireballs, invisibility, and an undead mule.

Not skeletons.

Until now! Raising some serious questions.

Was this Nero actually a necromancer, or had the people from the caravan misunderstood something?

On the other hand, part of that same account claimed the necromancer had openly used necromancy to threaten both the bandits and, indirectly, the caravan itself.

"Lagart, move forward," ordered her imposing master beside her.

Lagart nodded and glanced toward the companions at the front of their group. The old sergeant was undoubtedly far more accustomed to situations like this.

He continued toward the necromancer's group, where the robed young man appeared to be explaining something to the others.

"We're looking for someone named Nero," Lagart said as he approached, wasting no time.

The young man in the robe stepped forward.

"And why are you interested in him?"

Before anyone could answer, the likely Nero pulled him back and stepped forward himself.

"How about introducing yourselves first? Or didn't your mothers teach you any manners?"

Once again, he confirmed everything they had heard and suspected about him.

After all, someone so arrogant before a group of heavily armed men had to possess something to justify such confidence.

Lagart stopped and looked toward the master, who gave him a small nod.

"Eran of Volmart," he finally answered, his voice carrying the authority of someone trained to command.

The reactions from the other group were exactly what she expected. Or almost what she expected.

The two young women instinctively stepped back, their eyes widening as they recognized the name of one of the most renowned mages alive.

The robed young man covered his face, apparently unable to believe what he had just heard.

Nero, however, merely tilted his head.

"Right, right... not that much of a problem..."

Then the robed youth interrupted him, speaking too quietly for Enola to hear.

"Oh, it's a title... it's the same guy..." Nero said, straightening up and studying them more seriously.

Then he continued.

"But Eran... what, the old man's younger brother?"

Clearly comparing her master to Seran the Rock.

She didn't even need to look toward her master to feel his irritation.

The resemblance of their names had always frustrated him. He was the younger mage, still trying to establish his own reputation in a world where Seran had already been famous for decades.

And the fact that the Rock's impressive powers made for better tales for the bards did not help.

Unfortunately, the young man wasn't finished.

For while smiling, he added. "Or perhaps I should say... the bigger brother."

Enola couldn't help glancing toward the noticeable belly protruding beneath her master's robes.

She couldn't help thinking that this boy wasn't merely arrogant.

He was suicidal.

"The mule!" her master suddenly barked.

The undead mule the necromancer was supposedly traveling with.

Every trace of amusement vanished from Nero's face, leaving behind nothing but a blank expression.

The two girls edged a little farther away while moving closer together, and the baby in one of their arms became visibly restless.

"The mule?" the robed youth began, sounding almost amused.

"Why would distinguished people like yourselves..."

"We're looking for someone named Nero who has a mule," Lagart interrupted before the young man could dismiss the matter.

The youth let out a small laugh and gestured around them.

"Yes, but as you can see—"

"We've already checked. You entered the city with another young man and a mule that you deliberately keep outside the city. It should be at your house."

Lagart's explanation revealed the results of the short investigation they had conducted while in Pinetop.

"Ah..." the young man began, clearly trying to think of something else to say.

"That's enough, Grumpy," the necromancer interrupted.

"They clearly came here looking for us."

Nero let out a heavy sigh as he looked over the guards before him.

"No one can run forever..."

As the necromancer prepared to mutter something, Enola heard her master's brief commanding voice beside her.

"Silencio."

She didn't even need to look to know he had already raised his hand and cast the spell upon Nero.

It wasn't the most honorable situation.

After all, they were casting a spell on someone they had no proof had committed any wrongdoing.

But, as her master had said before, they couldn't afford to take risks.

'Silencio' prevented a mage from speaking and therefore from casting spells.

It was this mastery of the spell that had earned Eran the title The Bane of Mages.

Of course, if the opposing mage could attack first, and decisively, 'Silencio' accomplished very little.

It was primarily useful in prolonged battles, which was the norm. After all, most mages didn't possess a spell capable of deciding battle in one single moment.

Unfortunately, against mages like Seran, or necromancers in this case, waiting for combat to begin was especially dangerous.

They didn't need to cast spells continuously.

Once an undead servant had been created, it would continue serving its creator until destroyed.

Acting first was simply the sensible choice.

If this Nero turned out to be innocent, then once everything had been clarified, the inconvenience would be over.

"Nero!" his companions cried, apparently realizing something strange had happened.

Nero himself seemed to try speaking, but, as expected, not a sound emerged.

He simply raised one hand, silently signaling them to stop.

Enola couldn't help being surprised by the young man's apparent calm.

He almost seemed... thoughtful.

Then he raised a hand as though preparing to cast a spell.

His lips moved.

Nothing happened.

The guards in front of him chuckled, one of them commenting,

"Why do they always keep trying to cast spells?"

Normally, she would have agreed.

Nero's reaction looked exactly like what they usually saw. Mages stubbornly trying to cast spells, unable to accept that they no longer could.

But there was something strange about this young man.

Something she couldn't quite understand.

He tried again.

Yet he didn't appear tense.

It looked as though he were merely... experimenting.

The guards laughed once more and continued advancing slowly, ready to arrest them.

Once again, he tried.

Finally she realized he seemed to be mouthing the word 'Silencio', as though attempting to cast her master's own spell.

But before she could comment, she noticed that his hand seemed to gather a faint glow.

She blinked, unable to believe what she had seen.

Beside her, someone gasped.

"Impossible."

She could only agree. It looked as though he had been on the verge of successfully casting the spell.

Her master stepped forward, beginning,

"That can't..." The words died in his throat. While, his eyes widened in disbelief as he seemed to lose the ability to speak himself.