Published at 23rd of February 2026 6:42 am

Chapter 1526 Dense Map

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The sands of time continued to fall.

The sun rose over Springdale, casting its light across a city already wide awake. After all, the day of the Sovereign Conclave had arrived.

Festivals had broken out across the streets before dawn. Music, banners, and crowds filled every district. The city was packed shoulder to shoulder with locals and visitors alike.

Inns overflowed, plazas were crowded, and the roads were barely passable beneath the press of people.

Security had been tripled. City watch patrols moved in tight formations, checkpoints blocked major intersections, and magical barriers glowed faintly above key routes.

Every delegation from all twenty member states had already arrived, their escorts and banners spread throughout the city.

In just a few hours, the conclave would officially begin in the City Hall of the High Ward, the most heavily guarded place in Springdale. It was the place where every decision made today would echo across the Sovereign Union for decades to come.

Marlow stood on the balcony, dressed in formal attire fit for the occasion, his hands resting lightly on the railing.

Below him, colorful banners and decorations stretched across the city, draped from buildings and strung over streets in preparation for the Conclave.

He watched the movement below in silence, observing the crowds, the guards, the steady flow of the city on the brink of something important, taking in the sight as the day truly began.

Yet something dark and ominous was brewing beneath the surface. It wasn't visible to the crowds or the celebrations, because the Magi working in the shadows had carefully concealed this secret war about to unfold.

Just where is Nilrem? Marlow thought with a slight frown on his face.

In the past month, he hadn't met the old Magus at all. They had exchanged letters only once, and that was it.

The Prince didn't know where he had gone, just that he was extremely busy with something.

I never got to ask him about Adam, he thought.

He couldn't help but heave a light sigh.

I suppose I'll ask him about it after the Conclave ends today. And then tomorrow, it will finally be time for me to return home.

"Your Highness."

Gillian stepped forward onto the balcony and handed Marlow a neatly prepared document. It contained a concise list of talking points, key issues to raise during the meeting, positions to emphasize, and notes on where compromise was acceptable and where it was not.

Marlow skimmed the pages as Gillian quietly went over the details, pointing out priority topics, likely objections from other delegations, and reminders on which states to engage directly.

The exchange was brief and efficient, the final preparation before Prince Marlow Fireborne stepped into the Conclave.

***

Twilight Brotherhood Headquarters.

In the depths of this vast underground structure, within a private chamber sealed off from all sorts of scrying and divination, three old men had gathered.

These three were Mana Core Magi, who sat on the Council of Dawn.

A tense and heavy atmosphere permeated the room. After all, the three Councilors no longer saw eye to eye. They had stood on the same side until only a few months ago, before a schism split them apart.

These were none other than Uther Bowman, Agron Yaegar, and Kenton Hastings.

Councilors Hastings and Yaegar sat on one side of the table, their faces cold and their eyes flashing with hints of hostility.

On the other side sat Councilor Bowman, who had a welcoming look on his face. The three remained silent for a long time, until finally, he began.

"First, I must thank you for agreeing to meet me in private," he said. "I know things have been rough between us, but let's not forget… we are still allies."

Yaegar sneered. "Tell that to Damon and Vaelor."

Although Hastings didn't say anything, the hostility on his face could not be hidden.

Hearing his fellow Councilor's answer, Bowman couldn't help but helplessly sigh. "Whatever I say will fall on deaf ears. And we cannot go on like this forever, especially when the Lord's grand plan is so near."

Hearing of the Cult Leader and his grand plan for this world, Hastings and Yaegar turned grim. They exchanged glances and could see the solemnity on each other's faces.

The Cult Leader's grand plan… It was the very thing that pushed them to betray the Twilight Brotherhood and pledge themselves to the Cult of Bones.

It was a promise of a higher world, an ascension to a higher arcane path!

Faced with such an offer, how could they refuse?

It appealed directly to their ambition and fear of stagnation. Power beyond what the Brotherhood could provide. Knowledge unbound by law or restraint. A future where they would stand above their peers. In a brand new world.

To them, loyalty became a small price to pay. Principles felt utterly insignificant in the face of promised transcendence. And so, step by step, they convinced themselves that betrayal was not only justified but necessary.

But when the memory of seeing Damon and Vaelor's cold, poisoned corpses surfaced in their minds, they couldn't help but scowl in rage. They had clearly sensed Bowman's mana signature at the scene of the crime, so how could they trust a single word he said?

"Don't threaten us with the Lord's name," Hastings spat with narrowed eyes.

"That's always been your problem, Uther," Yaegar said. "You always thought you were better than us, that your intellect could solve everything. But guess what? Even someone like you could be careless at times. So don't bother trying to convince us of how you're our ally. Because you're not!"

Bowman intently studied the two Councilors. In the end, he said in a flat voice, "I know you won't believe a word I say. That is why an Elder is visiting us today. I'm sure he'll be able to talk some sense into you."

He rose to his feet and left the chamber, leaving behind his parting words, "Don't be late for the Council meeting in an hour."

Yaegar and Hastings glanced at one another, unease flickering in their eyes. They hadn't expected Bowman to request an Elder to personally step in and mediate between them.

After all, according to them, why would the murderer himself call in a higher authority to investigate killings he had committed?

Due to that very simple line of reasoning, the two became even more confused.

***

Lebu stood in a vast chamber lined with shelves, drawers, and cabinets crammed with papers and ledgers. Tables were buried under open records, and loose pages covered nearly every surface.

The walls, however, told the real story.

Countless documents had been pinned up, names circled in ink and connected by threads that stretched across the room, linking one marked name to another.

Together, they formed a dense, spider-web-like map, displaying a visual record of every compromised Warden in the Brotherhood!

The clue from the Faceless Magi had been the real deal.

Lebu's eyes were marked with dark circles, and his face was haggard from exhaustion. And yet a triumphant smile broke through the fatigue as he murmured:

"We did it…"

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