Chapter 214: Chapter 179: Investigation

The gray clouds hung low, as if the entire sky held its breath due to some ominous omen.

The smell of scorched earth mixed with a stench akin to corpses rotting for days, cutting through the senses like a knife in the wind.

Occasionally, a gust of wind brought a scent reminiscent of corroded metal mingled with rotten eggs, sticky like tar, nauseating.

The vegetation was entirely withered, even the usual bird calls in the forest were absent, a deathly silence shrouded the dense woods ahead.

Vic stood in front of the blockade line, backed by twenty Elite Knights clad in deep silver armor, assembled silently.

A stationed knight quickly approached, blocking the path, spoke with a serious tone: “Ahead is a restricted area, unauthorized entry is prohibited.”

Vic was not annoyed, simply retrieved an iron token from within his cloak, engraved with the Sun Mark of the Red Tide Lord.

“The Lord sent me.” His tone was calm.

The stationed knight’s expression changed, instantly restrained his previous vigilance, and lowered his head with an apologetic gesture: “My apologies, please forgive my rudeness. Please proceed inside.”

“Hmm, it’s alright.” Vic replied mildly, stepping forward.

Passing through several layers of isolation lines, he glanced around, the desolate, charred soil, and that strangely “too clean” scene…

No decaying bodies, no signs of tearing, as if everything had been “erased.”

A knight stationed by Louis came to report: “From the beginning until now, we’ve not found any creatures approaching this area, the combat traces stop here.”

“No other discoveries?” Vic glanced at him, his tone calm yet unnerving.

The knight lowered his head: “…Yes.”

Vic said nothing, only lowering his gaze to the ground beneath him.

He noticed the surface of the land had cracks indicative of high-temperature scorching, the surrounding grass yellowed but not burnt, clearly the accuracy of the blockade line was precise.

“The isolation line is drawn very well,” he said, his tone affirming.

He then took out a bound notebook from his waist, quickly jotting down some comments.

This would be included in the formal intelligence report he submitted to Duke Edmund.

Finished with the notes, he slightly raised his head, looking towards the depth of the blackened earth.

“Alright.” His voice was steady as iron, “Next, we’ll take over the investigation.”

Traversing layers of scorched earth and rotting odors, Vic stepped slowly into the center of the forest clearing.

This used to be a dense forest, but now the branches withered, the soil charred.

It was as if some soul-devouring calamity had lingered here for a moment and then vanished without a trace.

He exhaled a murky breath, touched the ground with his sword, whispering: “Activate.”

In an instant, Fighting Energy circulated within, flowing through his blood to his eyes, skin, and every pore.

Fiery red patterns emerged from below his neck onto his skin, as if living creatures were wandering.

His world transformed accordingly.

The colors faded, leaving only a ripple world of cold and warm differences.

The dense forest before him seemed to become a gray silhouette, and countless subtle remnants of heat traces, residual magic power fluctuations, paths of air movement all appeared before his eyes.

He “saw.”

Three figures, swift and urgent, shuttled through the woods, cloaks fluttering, magic staffs casting intertwining glows of heat and coldness.

Their positions spread out, coordination orderly, one main attacker, one controller, one suppressor.

Magic explosions left rings of pale blue residual marks in the air, diffusing like ripples.

And right in front of them, several massive and aberrant heat sources crawled forth, neither metallic nor flesh, their writhing posture revolting.

It left corrosion marks on the ground, the temperature oddingly high, its trail spreading into a web-like crack, dissolving upon contact.

Those were the individuals of the insect swarm, moving swiftly, breath erratic yet bearing some form of precise coordination.

“Indeed, it is them.”

Vic’s eyes flickered slightly, pupils reflecting the gray-white writhing traces.

He spoke in a tremendously low voice, almost as if self-talk: “And… they’ve evolved.”

He walked slowly to the edge of the battlefield, crouched down, his palm touching the ground, a strand of cold Fighting Energy seeped through his fingertips into the soil.

Not searching for temperature, but reading the “path.”

“These insects… didn’t charge in at random.”

Along the barely discernible corrosion trails and heat marks, in a world “beyond sight,” he saw a terrifying fact.

The advancement trajectory of the insect swarm formed a fan shape, evidently under “control” or “guidance.”

They avoided certain obstacles, attacked in batches, most importantly.

Even after death, they took the initiative to recover remains, clean the battlefield, leaving almost no evidence for someone to trace.

“Not beasts… but,” Vic stood up, his gaze stern.

He remembered that nightmare three years ago, thousands of corpses like a deluge, crushed the elite of the Northern Army into blood mud with sheer numbers and parasitic traits.

The insect swarm of the past was terrifying, yet like beasts, uncontrollable, chaotic, without order.

But this time, it seemed like an “army.”

“More covert… more efficient.” He muttered softly.

An ominous thought flashed across his mind.

He pulled out a pocket notebook from his waist, scribbled a few words on the remnants:

“Insect swarm behavior trends towards organization, suspected test-type organisms.”

He did not speak out this deduction.

After all, if anyone truly commanded the insect swarm, it would not be merely a defense, but a precursor to a battle of annihilation.

At this moment, his thoughts yet to settle, his brow slightly moved.

“…?”

In the air, there was a faint, almost dissipated remnant wave, extending to the southwest, not yet completely cooled.

Those were the traces left by the fleeing insect swarm, which the average person wouldn’t notice, but his magical eyes could easily perceive.

“They haven’t completely escaped.” Vic’s gaze turned cold, instantly resuming its sternness. “Everyone, prepare for battle. Head northwest, pursue.”

The adjutant was taken aback, “Your Excellency, we have not yet…”

“The investigation here is complete,” Vic interrupted, his voice calm yet chilling. “Let’s go.”

Vic took the lead, venturing into the depths of the dense forest.

Twenty elite knights followed without hesitation, swiftly forming ranks, resembling a cold, sharp spear thrust into the silent forest.

A silent hunt commenced.

…

Magical flames burned quietly.

The gray-blue flames reflected against the obsidian walls, several cold gazes cast upon Lei Xi’er.

He stood at the center of the “Secret Council Hall,” clad in the Flowing Light Robe symbolizing a Silver-faced Mage, his face pale.

His left hand unconsciously pressed against his chest, where a searing sensation from crawling insects seemed to still churn beneath the skin.

Above, amidst shadowed layers of steps, was the Mage Elder Council.

Seventeen ancient mages, aging but still potent in magic power, silently watched this young man who brought news of disaster.

In the topmost platinum seat sat a silent figure, draped in a pale silver robe, their visage hidden beneath the brim.

This was the Supreme Mage—the highest authority in the Mage Forest.

Lei Xi’er knelt on one knee, his voice hoarse but each word distinct.

“Report begins. Flavia, Modi, and I arrived in the Northern Territory of the Ironblood Empire, following the trail to investigate the disappearance of Grand Mage Jurgen…

Subsequently, we were attacked. Six Insect Warriors, cooperating with precision, unafraid of magic, unafraid of death, their combat instincts unlost…

Flavia was parasitized. She retains memories of magic and combat, but doesn’t recognize the two of us…”

Lei Xi’er recounted everything in detail.

There was no embellishment, no omissions, as if laying himself bare before the elders.

Except for the matter of teaching Louis magic.

If he confessed to “teaching magic to a lord without permission,” even in the name of “repayment,” it would inevitably invite disturbance and reproach, something to be approached cautiously.

The elders’ seats fell silent momentarily.

The gazes of the seven gray-robed figures shifted over Lei Xi’er, like invisible spiritual barriers, dissecting and analyzing him.

“The ’insect corpses’ you mentioned… We have no records of such.” An older female mage finally broke the silence, her tone cautious, “Are you certain what you saw wasn’t an illusion? Or perhaps, some kind of psychic parasitism-induced delusion?”

“I am not mad.” Lei Xi’er stared straight at her, his calm like iron.

“Councilor,” he called softly.

In the next instant, a Blue Silver Demon Pattern Box, with sealed magic inside, floated from his sleeve and settled in the hall’s center.

“This was… extracted from my body.”

Click.

The sealing runes shattered like chains, and a faint green light spread through the air.

It was a dead insect.

Only palm-sized, twisted yet intricate, with its joints as orderly as a metallic structure, and its thread-like limbs coated in some corrosive mucus. Most terrifyingly, the eye of the insect hadn’t completely dried up, appearing to be slightly moving.

“This is… from your body?”

“Before I fainted, it was alive. A doctor in Red Tide Territory surgically removed it, and with my last bit of magic, I sealed it. It tried to bore into my spine.” Lei Xi’er stared down at the insect, his voice like a blade sliding over ice.

The Magic Court fell into chaos for the first time.

Whispers and psychic waves crisscrossed the air, the elders uncharacteristically engaging in heated discussion.

Some advocated for keeping this matter under wraps to prevent panic, while others suggested forming a dedicated research group…

Beneath the purple-silver mask, the Supreme Mage never spoke.

He simply sat silently, as if merging with the Secret Council Hall, his silence seeming to carry more weight than any words spoken.

Until the Councilor’s gaze fell on him for the third time, the elders’ voices gradually lowered.

The Supreme Mage slowly raised his hand.

Five fingers tapped lightly, a deep sound resonating.

It was not a spell or a curse, but a simple strike, yet it felt like a heavy hammer upon the heart of the entire Secret Council Hall.

“This insect swarm event is not incidental.”

He finally spoke, his voice deep and hoarse, yet with an undeniable authority.

“The Mage Forest will officially dispatch personnel of Grand Mage caliber, leading an elite team, to the Northern Territory to uncover the truth.”

The entire chamber was shaken.

The elders fell silent, nodding slightly in agreement.

Lei Xi’er stood in the hall, finally exhaling imperceptibly after a long stretch of tension.

He did not show any obvious expression, but the string in his heart finally loosened in that moment.

Not because he was praised, nor because he was saved, but:

The danger he worked so hard to convey had finally been truly heard.

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