Chapter 66: The Mystery of the Map

After Ferdinand left in a hurry, Donald remained alone in the villa, carefully reflecting on the events of the day. Then, he suddenly thought of something interesting.

Going to the study he had created for himself in the villa, Donald opened a book copied from the club. It was a geographical atlas of the northern regions compiled and illustrated by a traveling mage two hundred years ago, covering most of the terrain in the northern part of the continent where the Celt Kingdom lay. After several revisions by later mages, it had become the most authoritative map of the northern regions.

Opening the map, he held up a parchment map taken from his storage space—a trophy from defeating that sorcerer. He had never understood its origin before. The club had few books in ancient languages, and he only knew that the script on the parchment was one of the languages used by ancient mages, so he hadn’t paid much attention to it and soon forgot about it.

Now, with the emergence of the Hand of Justice, it was clear that the Church of the Three Radiant Gods attached great importance to that sorcerer. A sorcerer of bronze strength shouldn’t warrant such intense pursuit by a powerful organization like the Church of the Three Radiant Gods. It was likely because this minor sorcerer possessed some important secret.

That’s why Donald associated this mysterious ancient map with what he had in his hands. Comparing the parchment map with the one in the book, after half an hour, Donald found a terrain in southern Celt that resembled the depiction on the parchment.

“It’s here! It’s said that sorcerer also fled to the Six Southern Towns. Could it also be for something on the map? This ancient map could be carried by the sorcerer, and the Hand of Justice is relentless in pursuing him—there must be something special about it. Maybe it’s a treasure map!” Donald murmured to himself, holding the parchment.

“Judging from its material, it must be hundreds of years old. One end is intact while the other is damaged; it seems to have been torn from some kind of book!” With that thought, Donald found several books on continental history and ancient records, patiently searching for relevant information.

After a while, rubbing his dry eyes, Donald closed the last book. From these books, he obtained somewhat inaccurate information—details recorded in a collection of legends. The content seemed like fictional tales and not very reliable, mostly altered from real history. But one description of the northern regions caught Donald’s attention.

“…After the sorcerers conquered most of the world with their wisdom and kindness, they turned their gaze toward the northern lands, continents untouched by humans. There, nations were ruled by giants and their descendants. Though pure-blooded giants became increasingly rare with the end of the ancient Golden Age, their descendants still established powerful tribes on the icy highlands. The sorcerers called them the Highlanders, as they shared a common lineage with humans as well…”
“There were other indigenous peoples in the cold northern lands, but they all submitted to the spears of the Highlanders. Yet the Highlanders had their own troubles. An evil god emerged from the far north, seeking to enslave the Highlanders. For centuries, under the leadership of several giant ancestors, the Highlanders fought against this evil god. Until a great sorcerous lord named Sera, with his powerful magic and arcane arrays, defeated the god who controlled the harsh winter, sealing the source of cold in the north. This brought warmth and greenery to the otherwise perpetually frozen lands. To express their gratitude for this great sorcerous lord’s help, the Highlanders formed a lasting alliance with Sera and his sorcerers. Many strong and elite Highland warrior clans became followers of the sorcerers, and the Highland tribes entered an era of prosperity through trade and exchange with the Sorcerer Empire…”
“…No matter how powerful humans are, they cannot stop the passage of time. Even the mighty great sorcerous lords eventually reach the end of their lives. The Abyssal Plane invaded, and demons descended upon the main world. The gods at the front lines were pushed back one after another. To defend their homeland, the sorcerers rose to battle. Sky cities fell like meteors. In this catastrophe, less than one in ten of the powerful sorcerers survived. Although great sorcerous lord Sera survived that battle, his soul suffered irreversible damage in the fight against the Abyssal Lord. Knowing his time was running out and fearing the sealed evil god might return, Sera, with the help of his Highland allies, sealed his sky city and the evil god at opposite ends of the north, constructing a massive tomb for him. There, the great legendary sorcerous lord lies quietly in his underground palace, awaiting the moment of his demise!”
Great Sorcerous Lord! Evil God! Sealed Sky City!

These words deeply touched Donald’s heart, and he couldn’t be sure just how true this story was. But if there was even a one percent chance, it meant that what was recorded on this map was one of the two seals of the Great Archmage Lord Sera—either the Sky City that housed the tomb of that legendary archmage or the location where the evil god was sealed.

And since the Church of the Three Glorious Gods attached such importance to it, the contents of this parchment must be of great value.

Still, the Northern Counties were after all remote areas. Perhaps by visiting the mage guild there, one could find accurate records about this matter.

Moreover, neither the Sky City nor the seal of the evil god was within his reach. Without a few silver or even gold-ranked powerhouses to back him up, venturing into such dangerous places would be utterly futile—like throwing meatballs at dogs, with no chance of returning!

“Maybe I can get the Ansel family involved. With their strength, sending a few silver-ranked powerhouses should be possible. But that depends on confirming the map’s authenticity first!”

Unaware of Donald’s thoughts, on the other side, Ferdinand, traveling at full speed, returned to the northwest capital, City of Crape Myrtle, in just three days.

In a garden behind the marquis’s residence, Ferdinand, exhausted from the journey, rushed there without even taking the time to tidy himself up.

“Mother, Father, I’m back!”

A gentle voice came from a beautifully crafted greenhouse in the garden.

“Why shout? You’re already so grown up—still so hasty!”

Ferdinand lowered his head and said, “Mother is right. But this time the situation is very important. I’ve brought back the items from Mage Donald’s deal. Mother, you’ll understand once you see them!”

A deep, teasing male voice said, “What could a mere minor mage have that makes you so nervous, Ferdinand? I really want to see it!”

Soon after, Marquise Edwina of the Ansel family, dressed in traditional noble attire, stepped forward, holding her husband Vincent’s hand.

The appearance of this Marquis of Ansel and Saint of the Storm Sword defied some people’s expectations. He looked like a simple, burly nobleman, somewhat similar in appearance to Ferdinand but with more ruggedness and determination. Lacking his son’s softer, more handsome features inherited from his mother, if not for the slight mustache, this marquis might have seemed only a few years older than Ferdinand—more like brothers than father and son!

“Father, have you returned from your cultivation in the forbidden lands? That’s great. I’ve brought back something wonderful this time—surely you’ll be satisfied!”

As he spoke, Ferdinand had already taken out several items from the package. The Marchioness, who had been paying close attention to this transaction, quickly took the items in her hands, examined them carefully one by one, and then nodded, saying, “The quality of these potions is good; they must have been crafted by a high-level alchemist. They should be very helpful to your father. The actual effects can only be determined after trying them out.”

“Huh? What’s this?”

Upon holding the last item, which resembled a scroll, Edwina was suddenly stunned, then showed a look of shock.

Ferdinand smiled excitedly and said, “Mother, do you recognize it? It’s a teleportation scroll!”

He then described the effects of the scroll as introduced by Donald, leaving the marquis and marchioness in awe. Especially the Marchioness, who was a silver mage, understood the value of this teleportation scroll best.

“It’s actually a teleportation scroll? The principles of such a high-level spatial spell have been lost for nearly a thousand years. Even in the mage towers of the Kingdom Mage Association, there are no such ancient spatial spells preserved. Therefore, I speculate that behind Mage Donald must be an alchemist at least at the master level, or even someone who has inherited ancient spells. Is it Messer? Has he reached such a level after all these years?”

“Unfortunately, once this teleportation scroll is torn open, it activates immediately and can save lives in critical moments. The spell pattern on it uses a stealth spell circuit technique from the Ancient Arcane Empire era. Without activation, it’s impossible to see the pattern or its principles. Unless one is willing to waste a chance to save their life, not even archmages or master alchemists can study or replicate such a spell scroll.”

The spell pattern of the return scroll is hidden inside the scroll, with the outer patterns mostly serving as a disguise and a defensive spell during teleportation. This is why the Marchioness, as a high-level mage, failed to notice some differences between the scroll provided by Donald and a real teleportation scroll.

You see, the teleportation spell derived directly from the spatial laws and structure of this world by the Book of Truth is far more advanced than those created by ordinary mages. Even a being at the level of a true god would benefit greatly from mastering such a spell. After all, although it’s merely a tool for use by others, the rules governed by a high-level divine artifact are even more advanced than those of most true gods in this world.

“I never expected a minor mage to possess such a rare item. Then these potions must also be extraordinary. I’ll try them out first!”

Marquis Ansel, in his haste, grabbed a bottle of potion and tried to drink it all at once, only to be slapped on the arm by Lady Edwina, who scolded, “Why are you in such a rush? These two potions need to be taken together to achieve their maximum effect!”
As a Silver Mage, Edwina may not be highly skilled in alchemical potion-making, but she still had a basic understanding of it. Upon hearing her son’s explanation, she knew exactly how to administer the two potions to her husband, who was a Sword Saint.
Scolded by his wife, the marquis did not dare retort and could only force a laugh as he drank both bottles of potion she handed him.
Watching Vincent take the potions and close his eyes to sense his body’s condition, Edwina and Ferdinand waited nearby for the results.