Chapter 496 - 107: Fifteen Months
Margaret quickly composed herself, wiping away every trace of gravity and worry. When she turned, her usual gentle, languid smile had returned.
She walked over, took the cake from her daughter’s hands, and gently placed it on the small table nearby.
"Yes, your father had some urgent business, so he had to return to the Holy City," she said softly, reaching out to straighten a lock of Eleanor’s hair by her temple.
Eleanor’s face fell, her disappointment plain to see. "He’s gone again... He didn’t even have a single bite of cake. He seems... so busy lately."
She looked up at her mother, a flicker of unease in her black eyes—so much like Murphy’s. "Mother, Father’s Elementalization..."
The smile on Margaret’s face didn’t change at all.
"Don’t let your imagination run wild, Eleanor." She used her daughter’s full name, her voice becoming even more gentle and firm. "Your father is the most powerful person in this world; nothing can truly defeat him. He’s just been a bit busy lately promoting the Path of the Wizard across the Continent. I promise, he’ll be fine."
Eleanor stared into her mother’s eyes, as if to confirm the truth in her words.
After a long moment, she nodded gently and snuggled into Margaret’s embrace, whispering, "Okay, I believe you, Mother. Father... he’ll be fine."
Margaret held her daughter tightly, but her gaze involuntarily drifted back to the window, toward the direction Murphy had left, into the depths of the endless night sky.
...
「Sanctuary, Half-Plane.」
There was no sky or earth here, only a boundless, seemingly eternally flowing expanse of milky-white clouds and mist.
However, floating above this sea of clouds was an incredible structure.
It was a massive palace constructed entirely from clouds and mist.
The palace’s colonnades, domes, steps, and even the Attendants who moved through its halls, were all condensed from the unceasing flow of milky-white cloud Qi.
Deep within the palace, on a wide terrace formed from the flowing cloud Qi, Othilia sat on a chair of clouds. She wore a pure white dress and matching stockings that covered her slender calves, and on her feet were a pair of white leather shoes. At this moment, her legs were swinging back and forth like a pendulum.
Suddenly, the cloud Qi at the entrance to the terrace churned violently.
Margaret’s figure practically burst in, her jet-black dress cutting a striking path through the pure white cloud Qi.
"Othilia!" She strode toward the other woman, her voice urgent.
Othilia stopped swinging her legs and lifted her jet-black eyes, looking at her calmly. "What is it?"
Margaret took a deep breath and got straight to the point. "Let’s go find ’Bone-Eroding’ Iskander and cause him some trouble."
Othilia’s eyebrow twitched imperceptibly, and a slight smile appeared on her face. "Iskander? That old coot who made some decent achievements in the field of the Necromancy School, but turned himself into something half-man, half-ghost and now hides in his lair, afraid to see the light of day? You’re looking for him for your little lover, aren’t you?"
"That’s right," Margaret admitted frankly, not shying away from Othilia’s gaze.
Othilia’s smile faded, her voice growing indifferent. "Margaret, my Path is long, my future vast, and my lifespan nearly eternal. And you want me, for the sake of a life destined to be short, to go and provoke an old coot who’s been hiding in a corner, hoarding who knows how many tricks up his sleeve? And possibly pay a hefty price for it? Is it worth it?"
"He is not short-lived!" Margaret retorted instantly. "You know it as well as I do! If he weren’t constrained by the current rules of the Old Realm, with his will and his Path, his achievements wouldn’t necessarily be beneath yours or mine! Othilia, if you were out in the world, without the legacy of the Sanctuary, you couldn’t have completed your Elementalization either, much less stand at the pinnacle of the Holy City and look down upon all of creation!"
Othilia fell silent for a moment before speaking slowly. "You’re right, I couldn’t. But the world’s brilliance isn’t made eternal by a fleeting moment of glory. An individual’s struggle, no matter how spectacular, is just a ripple in the river of time. The splendor of the Ancient Wizard World was far beyond anything we can imagine, and yet, didn’t it eventually crumble? Margaret, surviving—surviving for the long haul, amassing enough power and time—is the only way to become a final player on the board, or even one who sets the rules. Investing too much in a piece that’s about to be taken off the board is not something a Wise One would do."
Looking at Othilia’s almost ruthless composure, Margaret suddenly felt an inexplicable surge of frustration.
She gritted her teeth. "If you won’t go, I’ll go by myself."
As soon as the words left her mouth, she turned to leave.
Just as she turned, Othilia’s figure flashed like a phantom, appearing at the exit of the terrace and blocking Margaret’s path.
"Who said I’m not going?" Othilia asked, tilting her head slightly as she looked at her.
Margaret stopped in her tracks and looked at her in surprise. "You... Weren’t you just trying to stop me?"
Othilia closed her eyes, then slowly opened them a moment later and sighed softly.
"I actually noticed it a long time ago, Maggie. You’ve changed so much since you found that little lover of yours. But I never imagined you would become so deeply attached. You’re the Enchanting Witch, a being who commands the hearts and desires of others. How could you, in turn... let yourself fall into such a trap?"
Margaret met her gaze, and the tense look on her face suddenly relaxed, even giving way to a strange smile.
"Othilia, you’re always talking about mortals, lifespans, eternity... I’ve just now realized that you’ve simply never experienced the joys of being a mortal."
Her voice took on an unprecedented, wistful tone.
"You’ve never experienced the mutual support and trust between a husband and wife, nor the joy and worry of watching a child grow up. That’s why you’re always so high and mighty, forever viewing everything from the sidelines, thinking that emotions are a burden and attachments are a weakness."
Othilia’s expression remained indifferent, but something seemed to flicker deep in her eyes.
She said coolly, "I don’t need to experience those things."
"You don’t experience them, so you don’t understand me." Margaret shook her head, her tone resolute once again. "Step aside. I’m going."
Othilia didn’t move. She just looked at her and repeated her earlier question: "Who said I’m not going?"
Margaret looked at her, baffled. "You... Weren’t you trying to stop me?"
Othilia took a step forward, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart.
Her gaze lingered on Margaret’s face for a long time before she finally spoke softly:
"You say I don’t understand mortals, and perhaps I don’t. But I have you, Margaret. Did you think the bond between us is maintained solely by that eternal pact?"
Margaret’s pupils contracted slightly as she stared at her, stunned.
Othilia said coolly, "Throughout these long years, we have shared countless secrets, faced numerous crises together, and kept each other company amidst this eternally lonely sea of clouds. You say I don’t understand mortal emotions, but I have you, Margaret. Your joys and sorrows, your attachments and choices—they themselves are an undeniable part of my long life. In a way, your worries have also become my worries."
PFFT!
Margaret burst out laughing, looking genuinely happy. She held out her hand, palm up. "So, let’s go together and find that reclusive Iskander."
Othilia looked at the flawless hand extended toward her, silent for a moment.
Finally, a slight smile curved her lips as she also reached out and took Margaret’s hand.
"Alright," Othilia said softly. "Together then."
As their hands clasped, their figures began to blur. The surrounding cloud Qi swirled around them, forming a miniature vortex.
Just as they were about to disappear completely, Othilia’s voice came through clearly to Margaret’s ears:
"Remember, Margaret, you owe me a favor for this."
Margaret chuckled and replied with equal clarity:
"I don’t owe you anything. You volunteered."
Before her words had even faded, both their figures, along with the small vortex of clouds, vanished completely from the terrace on the sea of clouds.