"Have you dealt with it? If it's done, come in and continue your lessons."
Morgan's voice echoed from the carriage. After spending some time together, Aslan had gotten used to her, and though Morgan was somewhat different from his initial impression, there wasn't much of a difference overall. At least, in terms of her personality, she was just as responsible.
Since she had agreed to teach him some magic in gratitude for saving her, this sorceress had been teaching him everything with 100% dedication. As they spent more time together, Aslan began to wonder if Morgan truly was this serious all the time.
But reason told him that couldn't be true.
Still, as he had anticipated, their future relationship would unfold later. For now, things were going smoothly between them.
At the same time, more and more losses had forced the magi from the continent to gather again. Based on previous small tests, it was clear that this time, they were targeting the sorceress. Even with two knights by her side, her state after the previous battle didn't seem to be severely affected.
Thanks to their ongoing trials with the knights, these magi had not personally taken action, but many knights had already been killed by the sorceress and her subordinates. Now, these magi were finally able to cooperate with the generals of the army.
In truth, the magi didn't think much of the barbaric soldiers, but for the sake of their magical goals, cooperating with the so-called "barbarians" seemed necessary.
The magus, dressed in a black robe, walked into the room of the foreign general. Using an invisibility spell, he passed by soldiers without being noticed, though they probably didn't find him more interesting than a mere insect.
This comparison might seem strange, but it was, in essence, true.
The foreign general, however, was no ordinary figure. As soon as the magus entered, the general raised his hand and grabbed the spiked club by his side. The club, adorned with numerous human skulls, seemed to be a badge of honor for the general—each skull symbolizing a foe defeated in battle.
This general had been fighting on the battlefield for many years. Not everyone's skull deserved to adorn his weapon. His weapon had been used to clash with even more powerful opponents, and these skulls were a tribute to his victories.
With a sense of arrogance, barbarism, and a touch of recklessness, the general didn't care what others thought. What mattered to him was that he would secure land for his people to live freely.
With the club in hand, the general swung it swiftly at the magus's face. The magus, however, easily dodged, and the weapon merely grazed his nose. Instead of the feared spectacle of the magus falling to the ground, the general saw him calmly rubbing his nose, raising an eyebrow, and speaking, "Barbarians are always so lacking in elegance. Is this how you greet guests?"
The general dropped his club, then leaned back with one leg crossed over the other, lifting his chin and looking at the magus. He tapped his fingers together lightly and sneered, "You're just a bunch of tricksters. Do you think I should greet you with respect?
Don't think I don't know what you've been up to. You've been sending your people after my soldiers. How do you plan to settle the losses?"
A flash of fury flickered in the general's eyes. Though his anger was evident, he wasn't about to break his alliances yet—this wasn't the right moment to confront the magi directly.
"If it weren't for me wanting to teach those fools a lesson about blindly following orders from the military, do you think you could have taken my soldiers?" the general added.
The magus, recognizing the situation, knew the general wasn't ready to fall out with him just yet. His confidence grew.
"Regardless of who killed your soldiers, it wasn't us. But if we don't deal with the ones causing trouble, you'll have a hard time explaining things to King Vortigern, won't you? How about we cooperate this time?"
The foreign general rubbed his chin, his gaze thoughtful. The prophecies about the Red Dragon and the Black Dragon had made the aging king even more anxious and irritable. Additionally, strange movements on the borders had caused the king to grow increasingly upset.
If the border disturbances weren't resolved soon, no one could predict what the king would do.
Having spent time with King Vortigern, the general knew well that the seemingly kind old ruler was actually a twisted individual—evil enough to be likened to a demon. But the king didn't want to openly show his true nature in front of others. Any "undesirable" people were quietly disposed of, and his suppressed rage was vented secretly. Few would want to know what those poor souls went through before their fates were sealed.
Taking a deep breath, the general suppressed his own anger and looked at the magus coldly. "I hope you aren't treating us as pawns. Otherwise, even if we rip apart our alliance, I'll smash your skull with my club."
The magus nodded, his body enveloped in swirling black mist. He began to fade, signaling that their discussion was nearing its end. As a proper and elegant magus, leaving in a distinctive manner was essential.
As his form grew faint, his voice echoed like a whisper through the corridor, reaching the general's ears:
"Don't worry. This time, we're serious. Let's cooperate and set a trap."