Chapter 46: Madness Unleashed

  Ethan sighed, slowly approaching the charred remains, as if trying to discern the last outline of the former Archmage from these grotesque vestiges.

  "What a pity... Lord Harrog's achievements in elemental construction were rarely matched in the entire Northlands." His voice was low, filled with genuine regret. "I had imagined that this time, I might have some academic exchanges with him..."

  The words suddenly trailed off.

  Ethan's gaze lifted from the corpse and swept around—the mountains of scrolls on the bookshelves, the scattered manuscripts on the experimental tables, the charts and rune drafts hanging on the walls... The entire study seemed like a sleeping treasure trove of knowledge, exuding a quiet yet seductive aura in the dim light.

  His eyes gradually changed.

  The layer of regret receded like a tide, replaced by something burning hot. His breathing imperceptibly quickened, his fingertips trembling unconsciously.

  "Wait..." he muttered softly, his throat dry. "Harrog is dead... which means these things... no longer have an owner."

  "Mr. Ethan?" Wolf's voice came from beside him, steady but with a hint of alarm. "What did you just say?"

  Ethan didn't answer. He seemed to be caught in a fierce debate only he could hear, his eyes darting rapidly behind his spectacles, his lips moving silently. The mountains of ancient texts, the unique copies probably not even recorded by the Mage Association, the manuscripts detailing exclusive spells and forbidden experiments—all screamed silently in his mind.

  When he finally looked up, a fire Wolf had never seen before burned in his eyes. It wasn't the usual rational light of a mage, but a desire bordering on madness.

  "Forgive me, Mr. Wolf," Ethan's voice was soft, yet exceptionally firm, "I intend to stay."

  Wolf's brows furrowed sharply. "You just said we shouldn't linger here."

  "I understand, but—" Ethan's gaze greedily devoured every inch of the study. "This opportunity... is once in a lifetime. You cannot comprehend what these materials mean to people like us."

  "Then just take them with you." Wolf's tone hardened slightly. "You and your apprentice can organize them at your leisure; no one will contend with you."

  "They can't be taken!" Ethan suddenly raised his voice, then quickly suppressed it, speaking rapidly. "Look at the sheer volume! Just preliminary classification will take considerable time... and many materials are stored in permanent magic circles engraved on the floor, dynamic models sealed in crystals, and magic devices—how can these possibly be taken?"

  He took a step forward, the magic light reflecting in his spectacles.

  "Harrog became that way because he wasn't prepared! But I am different—" He lightly touched a faintly glowing amulet on his chest. "With enough magical protection, I am confident I can resist the tower's influence!"

  Wolf stared at him silently, not responding.

  But Ethan seemed to have opened a floodgate, his long-suppressed ambition mixed with fanaticism pouring out. He rushed to Wolf's front:

  "Do you understand, Wolf? If all this is handed over to the Association, it will only be stored in the 'Forbidden Archives' or 'Ancient Relics Repository,' becoming another pile of numbered documents awaiting review! What would I get? A few words of praise? A paltry research grant?"

  His voice began to tremble, not from fear, but from excitement:

  "But if... if I can analyze, reconstruct, and master Harrog's unique magic... if I can sell these things back to the Association under the name of the 'Ethan School'... the Association will offer a price I cannot refuse. No, not just a price—a seat! Resources! I, too, can become an Archmage!"

  Wolf wanted to dissuade him—but the words caught in his throat.

  A figure appeared silently, leaning against a bookshelf, as if seeping from a crack in memory.

  It was Lia. She tilted her head slightly, her expression seemingly reproachful, yet her eyes held the soft, familiar ripples Wolf knew so well.

  "Why do you stop him?" Her voice was soft, like a whisper, or a sigh. "Let him stay here... and research the magic that can bring me back."

  Wolf's breath hitched.

  "If we leave now, and return later... who knows what this place will become?" Lia floated closer, her ethereal skirt brushing the ground without a sound. "And you know, resurrection magic... has always been forbidden."

  She stopped before him, raising a nearly transparent hand, gently caressing his cheek.

  "Away from this tower, how many other mages... would dare touch such a taboo for you?"

  Her smile deepened, her voice lowered, as if sharing a secret:

  "He will be our 'accomplice.' He craves knowledge so much... he will surely be willing to cast the spell for us."

  Her last words were almost a murmur in his consciousness:

  "Don't you... want to see me again?"

  The illusion became exceptionally clear at that moment—Wolf saw her holding a stack of thick manuscripts. On the parchment cover, a line of charred black writing was seared into it:

  "Theoretical Model of the Art of Reviving the Dead"

  The next second, Lia's figure vanished like smoke.

  But the stack of manuscripts did not disappear.

  It was heavy, cold, and tangibly pressed into Wolf's suddenly tightened palm.

  He stood frozen, looking down at the mysteriously appearing scroll in his hand.

  When he looked up again—he was unknowingly standing alone before the door of the research lab filled with forbidden knowledge. The door was ajar, and inside were chaotic scrolls.

  Wolf didn't notice.

  He couldn't notice at all—a cold, burning madness, so similar to Ethan's, had quietly surfaced in his eyes.

  Lia was right.

  Even if he took this scroll out of the Northlands, who else... would cast forbidden magic for him?

  Perhaps only this mage, teetering on the brink of madness, would be willing to touch all of this.

  Then—

  What reason did he have to go against his will?

  Wolf slowly walked to Ethan's side and gently placed the ring he had taken from the charred remains into the mage's palm.

  "Keep this," his voice was low, yet carried an undeniable entrustment. "Among us, you are the most suitable for this. If something truly happens, it might save you once."

  Ethan barely paused, slipping the ring onto his finger. The ring felt cold against his skin, and the faded runes pulsed faintly the moment his magic touched them.

  "Also," Wolf handed over the stack of thick reports he held, "since you're staying... perhaps you could take a look at this for me."

  Ethan took it, his gaze falling on the cover—his breathing abruptly stopped.

  The next second, he almost violently tore open the flyleaf, his eyes rapidly scanning the dense formulas and spell diagrams. The fire in his eyes was no longer a metaphor—it was an almost physical brilliance, as if something was burning within his skull, threatening to burst from his eye sockets.

  "This concept... this structure..." His voice trembled, mixed with ecstasy and a sense of suffocation. "This is no longer magic... this is the blueprint of a miracle! If it can truly be realized... my name will be etched into the annals of time!"

  "Indeed." Wolf's face showed joyful agreement, his voice also imbued with a burning resonance. "Then... I leave it to you, Master!"

  "Mary!" Ethan suddenly looked up, shouting sharply. "What are you waiting for?!"

  The apprentice trembled, but her expression was solemn and uneasy!

  "Come here, we need to organize this study! Now! I want you to compile a list of core documents before dawn!" Ethan's words came out like a rapid-fire volley, his fingertips tapping the cover of the scroll with excitement. "I have protection, but even so, the strangeness of this place won't give us much time!"

  "But, but Mentor..." Mary's face was grave, her gaze warily sweeping her surroundings, still somewhat timid. "Do we really have to stay here?"

  "Our magic is almost depleted. If we encounter a monster attack..." Mary tried to argue.

  "Fool!" Ethan sneered. "The only way to get here is that magic elevator! Right now, this study is probably the safest place in the entire tower!"

  He took a step forward, his gaze behind his spectacles causing Mary to instinctively shrink back again:

  "Or are you saying that after participating in one investigation, and luckily helping to kill one monster... you now believe you can stand on your own, and even dare to question your mentor's orders?"

  "I don't remember... teaching you that!"

  The air solidified.

  Mary opened her mouth, but all words were stuck in her throat. She suddenly felt her mentor was somewhat unfamiliar. She glanced at Wolf, hoping this steady captain would... However, Wolf stood aside with his arms crossed, a look of amusement on his face, as if watching a show.

  The apprentice pursed her lips. "But..."