As one grows older, energy inevitably declines.
In order to ensure they possess enough energy, powerful casters of the Human Race often use certain means to maintain their physical bodies at their peak state.
There were handsome middle-aged men who had seen several generations come and gone.
There were little girls who were actually sixty or seventy years old.
There were even beautiful girls who looked like preserved delicacies.
This was a common phenomenon among casters.
Leah was not surprised, and the Crow Spirits standing nearby had always known, so their expressions remained normal.
Only Jon was slightly stunned, the expression beneath his helmet revealing the surprise of a young man who had not seen much of the world.
“Eighty years old… that certainly isn’t young. What, do you want to make one last effort before you die to save up some inheritance for your descendants?”
Leah continued to play the role of the attentive listener.
She could tell that this shadow mage intended to chat about personal matters first to close the psychological distance.
Zyra shook her head.
“I have no descendants.”
“If you have no descendants, why are you making so much money?”
Leah asked, feigning confusion.
Zyra smiled but did not respond to the question.
She simply took a wine pitcher from the hands of a Crow Spirit and slowly poured herself a drink.
“I still remember, sixty years ago, when I was a genius mage of the Empire, the days I spent crusading against you alongside the Hero from two generations ago.”
“My teacher used the last bit of his influence to pave the way for me. Although I didn’t seize the opportunity, in the end, I was at least knighted and given an official post, changing my destiny. It was only by managing the Thousand River Territory in a mediocre fashion until now that I’ve built up this family estate.”
“I was originally a mere commoner, sold to my teacher’s house. It was only thanks to his mercy that I am here today. Before he died, he left me only one final wish: to properly pass on the legacy of shadow magic.”
The crimson liquid slowly filled the glass, swirling into a small pool of blood.
Zyra stood up again and took the initiative to pour wine for the “Demon King Lya” before her.
Although her posture remained noble and indifferent, the act itself was full of intent to show goodwill.
“Now, I am also about to die,” Zyra spoke slowly.
“But unlike my teacher, I haven’t found an excellent student who can pass on shadow magic for me.”
“That really is a shame,” Leah echoed, though she did not believe a single word of this nonsense.
‘If you really wanted to fulfill your teacher’s wish, you would have gone out to take in students long ago. Is there any need to feel sentimental now?’
Leah guessed that what Zyra was actually sentimental about was the fact that she was “nearly dead,” not the inheritance of shadow magic.
“Try it. It was prepared specifically for you. A golden ratio of nightberry wine and infant blood, collected at the optimal time in the middle of the night from a breastfed infant four days after birth. Perhaps you can even taste a hint of motherly love in the blood.”
Zyra sat back in her high-backed armchair, raised her glass, and drained the liquid in one gulp.
A faint flush rose to her cheeks.
She began to chatter away like an old woman who was drunk and had finally caught an opportunity to ramble to a junior.
“Magic… for its sake, I did not bear children, did not marry, and exhausted the rest of my life. But the more I study it, the more I feel trapped by my own brevity and insignificance as a human.”
“It’s like a heartless yet fascinating man. No matter how much I give, he won’t spare me a single glance.”
“The Source… Heh, the Source that all magic seekers crave… where exactly is it?”
“Compared to us poor wretches, you Demons and those Heroes are truly… hah, far too lucky. Born with the ability to easily obtain mana, born favored by the Source.”
A hint of jealousy was involuntarily mixed into Zyra’s tone.
Leah swirled her wine glass, noncommittal.
“The Source” was a term commonly used by casters, but its specific definition was unclear.
It was usually used to refer to the “origin of mana.”
She did not agree with the “lucky” statement at all.
The Hero was one thing—they were indeed lucky—but the Demons…
As someone who understood the Demons deeply, she only wanted to say: ‘Strong? Yeah, they traded their damn sanity for it!’
“Judging by your tone, do you want to become a Demon too?”
Leah tested her with a smile.
Zyra replied, “Country, race, good and evil… once someone reaches our position, can they still not see through those things? Just as you only seek your great ambition, I only want to find the ultimate end of magic and catch a glimpse of that mysterious Source.”
“At all costs?”
Leah raised her glass.
“At all costs.”
Zyra lightly clinked her glass against Leah’s.
Amidst the competing fragrances of flowers, the two unscrupulous villains reached a superficial agreement under the watchful eye of the Hero.
After much more small talk, Zyra finally got to the point.
She first highly praised the “Demon King’s” ability and charisma, then subtly extended an invitation, hoping to cooperate with the Demon King to add another brick to her demon slave trade business.
Leah played along, arguing until her face was red, taking the opportunity to lure Zyra into revealing more details about “Demon slaves for tilling and Emptying the Cage for New Birds.”
By the end, the two women, who had been as close as sisters, nearly slammed the table and started fighting.
“Mr. Lya, this price is already the limit I can offer.”
Zyra’s expression was unsightly, and her cold face even showed a hint of resentment and anger.
Suppressing her fire, she said aggressively, “Please understand me as well. I want to make one last gamble. Buying magic crystals, conducting experiments, and carrying out research—all of that requires a lot of gold coins. If selling demon slaves can’t make me a profit, why would I bother with all this trouble? If you’re going to be this greedy, then let’s just make sure no one earns anything!”
“Don’t think I don’t know,” Leah said with disdain.
“Although you are the initiator, you have no control over the process at all. Even if you don’t do it, your subordinates will do it spontaneously. This is the will of the entire Thousand River Territory nobility. At worst, I’ll just go talk to them!”
“You…”
Zyra’s face turned pale and then green.
Leah’s words had indeed hit her Achilles’ heel.
With many plans and policies, the original intention was one thing, but the execution was another.
A plan that went against the interests of those executing it would be met with outward compliance but inward opposition and passive sabotage.
Conversely, a plan that aligned with the interests of those executing it would be unstoppable and would gradually spiral out of control.
She was like the commander who opened the sluice gates.
She could take the largest slice of the cake, but she could not forcibly make the water flow backward.
Otherwise, the nobles below could easily torment her just as they tormented the Hero and create a “New Thousand River Territory.”
“Ten percent more, at most.”
“Deal.”
Leah immediately stood up to shake Zyra’s hand.
The corners of Zyra’s eyes twitched slightly.
In the end, she forced out a smile and lightly shook the hand Leah extended.
“The day after tomorrow, I will hold a banquet under the guise of celebrating my birthday. At that time, all nobles of the Thousand River Territory at the rank of Viscount and above will come to offer their congratulations. We involved parties can meet again, gather, and finalize our intent for cooperation.”
“I will prepare a clean identity for you. Remember to grace us with your presence then.”
Leah smiled brilliantly.
“Certainly. When the time comes, I’ll give you a ‘big surprise!'”
***
The wind blew away the clouds on the horizon.
The grass was lush, and the white dew condensed into frost.
In the woods not far outside the castle, the “Demon King” collapsed with a poof and turned into a pile of slimes on the ground.
Leah reconsolidated into her girl form, feeling a bit uneasy.
She was afraid her “acting” just now hadn’t been reigned in enough and had aroused Jon’s suspicion.
But fortunately, Jon seemed to trust her, or rather, he hadn’t thought deeply about her performance.
The man encased in black armor was like a true member of the “National Protection Army”—silent, saying nothing for a long time.
“Friend~”
Leah had no choice but to speak first.
Her voice was clear, intentionally laced with a bit of coquettishness.
“It seems we’ve found the mastermind. Next… shall we just go and kill her?”
Jon did not respond.
After a long silence, he asked in a heavy voice, “Is it true that even if I kill the Governor, those nobles won’t stop making trouble?”
“Uh…”
Leah was caught off guard.
These words were beyond her expectations.
The Hero was actually able to realize this level of the situation?
It seemed that experiences really could make a person grow.
Jon truly had become smarter.