Chapter 368: Spying
(Fourth Elders Private Office)
The spy bowed low, his figure draped in a black robe that seemed to shift and shimmer with each breath he took, the spell-woven fabric muting all sound as he stepped forward into the chamber.
“The Twelfth Elder visited Supreme Master Argo’s forge this afternoon,” the spy reported calmly, his voice steady but hushed. “He requested the construction of a dimensional portal point.”
The Fourth Elder’s eyes narrowed.
“For what purpose?” he asked, fingers steepled beneath his chin.
The spy hesitated, then lowered his head even further. “The exact objective wasn’t disclosed, but from what I gathered through observation and chatter at the forge—it appears they are planning a heist. Possibly to retrieve something important from enemy territory. The level of discretion they’re operating under strongly suggests it.”
The room was silent for a moment.
Only the soft ticking of the elder’s ancient chronometer echoed faintly in the corner of the room.
“I see,” the Fourth Elder replied after a pause, his voice unnervingly calm. “You’ve done well. You may go.”
The spy bowed again, backed out of the room without a sound, and closed the ornate doors behind him.
And then—
*CRASH*
The Fourth Elder erupted.
His sleeves flared as he violently swept every document, relic, and instrument off his desk in one furious motion. Glass shattered on the floor, ink splattered across the ivory tiles, and sealed scrolls tumbled like dead leaves onto the ground.
“Damn him!” he roared, pacing across the room with fists clenched.
“That pretentious puppet—he’s actually doing it. He’s moving for the scroll! While I waste time here building influence and hiring instructors, he’s closing in on making his candidate the next Dragon, like a street-rat schemer!”
He ran a hand through his slick hair, breaths shallow and nostrils flaring.
“If he succeeds it will be over for me…”
“He who controls the Dragon controls the Cult.
The First Elder rose to prominence only because of his hold on Noah.
If I ever want to become the new First Elder, then I must have my own Dragon!”
His eyes blazed with fury and panic, his mind already racing through contingency plans, informants, and blackmail options.
Because if the Twelfth Elder retrieved that scroll before the agreed timeline—
Then the balance of power within the Cult would shift permanently.
And Fourth Elder had no intention of playing second fiddle to that smug bastard.
Not now.
Not ever.
“I need to get to the bottom of this… I don’t want to cost the Cult an opportunity to retrieve that skill scroll, but I don’t want Lord Twelfth to win either….” He mused, as he began planning counter strategies of his own.
———————–
(Meanwhile Leo, Twin-Fang Planet)
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After sending his list of demands to the Cult, Leo returned to his usual routine, immersing himself once more in daily training with the Codex.
Each day, he wandered the streets of Twin Fang for hours, silently studying the emotional spectrum of those around him, as he gradually expanded his search for the sixth color.
Although this had been part of his routine even before his journey into the Time-Stilled World, the difference between now and then was now impossible to ignore.
Back then, he had seen nothing while walking through the city. Not a flicker of color. Not a hint of a single shade.
But now, with the progress he had made with the codex within the time-stilled world, results had finally begun to show.
The same streets that looked colourless before, now came to life with scattered traces of red, pink, maroon and blue, revealing the emotions he had already learned to identify.
For the most part, he could not spot any color on the majority of pedestrians passing him.
But once in a while he could now catch a glimpse of Maroon when an assassin who was walking a bit too briskly brushed past him.
Or
A hint of light blue, when a woman walked out of a beauty parlour, looking fresh and beautiful.
‘My time within the Time-Stilled World has really helped me understand emotions!’ Leo realized, as he could distinctly remember how he struggled to spot a single color in his surroundings before the trip, but could see them on the regular now.
He kept walking, weaving his way past clustered intersections and street-side stalls, his eyes subtly scanning the flow of bodies around him.
A tired old man dozing near a spice stand showed no color.
The pair of twin brothers sparring outside a training hall showed no color.
Even the assassin sitting quietly on a rooftop, watching him with half-lidded eyes showed nothing.
But then a child ran past him, her arms outstretched like wings, as she chased a small puppy off its leash, as for just a second, Leo caught a flicker of pink trailing behind her. Faint, but unmistakable.
‘Only children and dogs love unconditionally…’ He thought, as he smiled faintly and continued walking.
Later, he caught a thick red in his surroundings, as a tall, broad-shouldered assassin brushed past a courier and kept walking like nothing happened—yet a thick streak of blood red clung to his back like smoke trailing a blade.
Leo slowed his pace slightly, eyes narrowing.
‘This is not normal.’
Unlike the earlier fleeting flashes of red he’d seen from those simply irritated or defensive, this one didn’t fade. It lingered. Heavy. Saturated.
He tilted his head slightly, wondering if the man had just received some disturbing news. Or perhaps he was stewing in rage from a conversation earlier that day.
But that wasn’t it.
The shade was too thick. Too intent.
It didn’t tremble or fade.
Like the murderous intent was a constant on the man’s mind.
‘He might actually kill someone today…’ Leo thought, his expression unreadable.
‘I guess there’s only one way to find out.’ He concluded, as to satisfy his own curiosity, he began to follow him.
The man made no unnecessary stops. He didn’t check for tails. Didn’t deviate or hesitate. Just walked through the outer districts of Twin Fang City with a constant rhythm and eventually slipped out past the city’s perimeter without drawing attention.
Leo stayed far behind to avoid detection, but always within sight as he tailed him relentlessly.
Nearly two hours passed before the assassin reached a quiet countryside bridge, nestled between two broken farmlands just beyond the hillside. The sky had already begun to dim into orange, shadows stretching longer as the sun dipped lower.
When he spotted another figure that was waiting there…. Perhaps for that man himself.
The two exchanged a package. Quick. Precise.
No handshake. No warmth. Just a transaction.
Leo watched from the treetops above as the assassin reached out with one hand—and without a moment’s warning—slit the other man’s throat clean.
No words spoken.
No hesitation.
Just one move.
The body dropped with a dull thud, followed by the faint splash of blood spilling between the wooden planks of the bridge.
As it was only after the deed was done, that the red clinging the man started to fade slowly.
Leo remained crouched, expression calm, his hands resting lightly on his knees.
‘So it was murder, after all.’
He watched the assassin walk away slowly, pocketing the package and vanishing back toward the city like nothing had happened.
‘That shade of red…’
It hadn’t lied.
When the red refused to fade, it meant murder afterall, as Leo managed to deepen his understanding of the codex because of this incident.