After finishing his work, Charlotte stretched lazily and gazed at the slanting sunset on the horizon.
He summoned another Mist Pigeon, stuffing all the letters on his desk into its beak in one go.
The little creature was instantly puffed up, its wings flapping even more frantically.
“Thanks for your trouble. Head back now.” He lightly tapped the pigeon’s head with his fingertip.
The pigeon flapped its wings outside the window and took off.
Charlotte let out a sigh. At last, he had some free time ahead.
Aifel, seeing that Charlotte was finally done, spoke to him. “Charlotte, the Divine Artifact has finished upgrading~”
Every time Charlotte obtained a Divine Artifact, Aifel would be in charge of extracting the Divine Power within, refining it into Initial Mist, Harmonizer, and herself—or so she claimed.
In reality, refining Divine Power was the function of the Initial Mist.
She just took credit, knowing the Initial Mist couldn’t speak to Charlotte.
The stronger the three Divine Artifacts Charlotte had contracted, the more benefits he would gain in return.
“Is that so?” Charlotte’s eyes narrowed slightly as his consciousness instantly sank into his spiritual world.
Aifel stood before him as always, still wearing her veil, like a goddess, smiling at Charlotte like a blooming flower.
“That veil’s useless now, isn’t it? Why do you still keep it? If you don’t need it, give it back to me—I can still put it to use,” Charlotte wondered aloud.
Every time he collected a piece of the Mist God’s Legacy, Aifel always liked to wear it herself.
Except for the “Dream of the Dark Moon,” which she couldn’t wear.
They were called Divine Artifacts because the Divine Power within them granted special abilities.
Once the Divine Power was drained, their effects naturally vanished. Yet Aifel still treated them like treasures.
“No way, no way, this is the Mist God’s Legacy—I have to keep it safe. Besides, you gave it to me! How could you just ask for it back?” Aifel said.
“All right, I’ll find something similar next time.” Charlotte stroked his chin.
“Well, let’s not talk about that. Hehe, let’s see how much stronger Mist God’s Magic is now?” Aifel clenched her fists in excitement.
Charlotte nodded. The dense mist in his spiritual world suddenly surged towards him.
“Mist Blade… Storm.”
Charlotte opened his right hand, and a magic circle instantly formed.
[Third-Tier Mist God’s Magic—Mist Blade Storm]
Effect: Compresses mist into razor-sharp mist blades, erupting in a conical storm covering a 15-meter range. The mist blades tear flesh and seep into wounds, continuously eroding magic power.
Restriction: The storm lasts for 2 seconds. The more magic power is infused, the denser the mist blades. Up to 8 core mist blades can be generated at once.
With a thunderous roar, countless silvery-white mist blades howled out from the magic circle, intertwining into a raging storm.
The dense mist around Charlotte was whipped into flying shreds, only to slowly gather again as the storm faded.
He felt the lingering power of the spell, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes: “Not bad, the range has improved a lot. Before, it only covered five meters around me. Now it’s actually expanded to fifteen meters?”
The power of Mist God’s Magic had always been overwhelming, but he never dared use it before others—once his identity as a Mist God believer was exposed, the consequences would be unthinkable.
He would have to use Initial Mist to erase memories, which was always a hassle.
What pleased him even more was the change in his internal magic.
With this upgrade, his magic power had undergone a qualitative leap.
Though he was still at the realm of a Third-Tier Mage, in terms of raw magic reserves, he was confident he could match any Transcendent.
If he were to face Ryan in a drawn-out fight again, as long as Ryan didn’t use ultimate magic, Charlotte was certain he could outlast him until both magic and fighting spirit were exhausted.
“Maybe soon, the youngest Fourth-Tier Mage in history will be born…” He could clearly feel that he was only a step away from the threshold of Fourth-Tier.
The barrier was already faintly visible.
“How much longer can the Initial Mist last now?”
“The Divine Power I refined this time is enough for the Initial Mist to last another three years! Even if the Mistmoon Family keeps using it, it’s more than enough!”
“Excellent.” Charlotte’s face remained expressionless, but a genuine hint of joy flickered deep in his eyes.
Should he reward Bella for this?
She truly was his lucky star. No deadly danger, no scheming—this was the first time a Divine Artifact had practically delivered itself to his door.
Charlotte didn’t quite know how to express this feeling, so he simply let loose with his magic in his spiritual world.
One magic circle after another formed amid the dense mist—at one point, more than a dozen were floating simultaneously, blue light flashing, magic surging.
This tangible sense of growing stronger let him vent emotions that had been pent up for too long.
Only when his internal magic was nearly depleted did Charlotte stop this “magic bombardment.”
He was slightly out of breath, fine sweat beading at his temples, exhaustion surging like a tide—yet it was a kind of exhilarating fatigue, as if he had just run ten kilometers all at once: “Ha… ha… Now I can do even more.”
Aifel watched his tired yet satisfied expression, a hint of worry in her eyes.
She knew Charlotte too well. Once he had enough confidence, he would always pursue more—like seeking new Divine Artifacts.
“Charlotte, you should be more cautious.”
“I know. If I’m not ninety-nine percent sure, I won’t make a move.”
Aifel shook her head softly, her tone growing serious: “I mean, stop using the Divine Artifact’s power so casually. You must have noticed, right? Your emotions are getting thinner and thinner.”
Charlotte’s smile froze, and silence spread through the dense mist.
He had noticed it.
His divinity was fusing deeper and deeper…
Lately, he’d felt indifferent to more and more things.
No matter the situation, he could handle everything with an almost chilling calm.
Fewer and fewer things could stir his emotions.
Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—these once-vivid feelings were slowly fading from his world, as if separated by a thick layer of mist.
Charlotte wasn’t stone-faced because he was truly emotionless—it was just that his threshold for feeling had risen.
Gods could not have emotions. In the Creation Age, it was because the gods gained emotions that they brought about their own destruction.
He was, after all, only a mortal—not even a Transcendent.
Frequent use of the Divine Artifact’s power was slowly stripping away his humanity, making him more like a god—an executor of rules, not a flesh-and-blood person with feelings.
Aifel drifted over and hugged the somewhat lost Charlotte. “You can act spoiled with me like you did when you were a child, you know. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
Charlotte froze, then instinctively reached out to hold her. His fingertips brushed her slender waist, and on a whim, he picked her up entirely.
“What are you doing!” Aifel instinctively grabbed his wrists.
“Holding you isn’t as nice as holding Bella.”
Charlotte weighed her in his arms, his tone teasing.
“You and she are about the same height, but at least she has curves in all the right places. You’re just pure underdeveloped. I’ve fed you so much Divine Power—how come you still haven’t grown?”
“You…! I’m here to comfort you and this is how you judge my figure?! Just wait until I can shape myself a new body—your jaw will hit the floor!”
Aifel was furious, but there was nothing she could do.
She wished she could be more voluptuous, but she herself didn’t even know what her existence really was—she only knew she was the spirit of the Dream of the Dark Moon.
Seeing Aifel puff up with anger, Charlotte suddenly laughed, the gloom in his eyes dissipating. “You’re still Aifel. Pretty cute.”
Aifel was stunned, staring at him in confusion—she was clearly scolding him, so why was he laughing? Had he awakened some strange preference?
“All right, I’ve still got things to do.” Charlotte gently set her down, his tone returning to its usual calm. “Get some rest, Aifel. You’ve worked hard.”
“Yes, yes, as you command, my tirelessly busy master~” Aifel drawled, deliberately speaking in a monotone to tease him.
She knew Charlotte was truly busy these days and barely had time to chat with her.
Charlotte didn’t reply. He withdrew his consciousness from his spiritual world.
He knew clearly that now was not the time to provoke the Duke of Storms—so Bella could continue her undercover mission, last night’s incident had to be treated as if it never happened.
Straightening his clothes, Charlotte called toward the courtyard: “Bella.”
After a short while, Bella came running from the courtyard, where she had been admiring the flowers.
“Is something the matter, Charlotte?”
“You should head back. It’s not good to keep hanging around my house all the time.”