"But you can't rely on that bastard for your safety, he has no conscience!" Morgan patted Lynch on the back and said in a gruff voice, "We dwarves, even if we're just clearing out mining rats, always wear our gear. The enemy won't show you mercy."

"Do you really wear all your gear?" Lynch looked at Morgan, smiling gently, "Alright, I understand what you mean. I will still use all kinds of protection magic and not let my guard down."

"I really don't know whether you're smart or just plain stupid." Zilvra looked at Lynch and said bluntly, "From now on, I will attack you from time to time, and with all my might. If you don't keep the magical protection on you, then taste the feeling of blowing yourself up with the weapons you've created."

"You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"No! I would." Zilvra's fingers danced on the sword hilt as she coldly said, "And I'll have Soka help me. Dying by my hand is better than being killed by those snake-men or any other bastards! At least your corpse will be mine!"

The mage scratched his head, seeing no hint of jest in Zilvra's eyes. He pulled a scroll from his bag and began drawing magic runes on himself again.

"I won't die by your hand or the serpent's, but someday, the magic power reverse will end, and the Magic God might become me." Lynch muttered to himself, unheard by others, who all thought he was merely chanting a spell, "At that time, I will also be dead."

-----------------------

Lynch and his All-Knowing Tower had left the Five Realms Fortress for some time, and those wanted notices were gradually being forgotten by the soldiers. Of course, this didn't mean that Pate's knights would forget past orders, they remained dutiful as ever. It's just that the initial shock and excitement upon seeing the wanted posters have finally been smoothed over.

No one would have thought that the mage who helped them resist the snake-man army and rescued their most respected commander would be a wanted man by the temple. Could the temple believe that the one who single-handedly wiped out tens of thousands of snake-men, the one who brought supplies and delivered fine armor, was a spy?

But time answered everything. Unconsciously, stories of the mage once bringing devastating calamity to the Anriel Continent circulated among the soldiers. The mage's evil reputation, though temporarily buried by the sands of time, resurfaced under intentional unearthing, and everything suddenly made sense. Mages, they're arrogant, treacherous, cunning, and unfaithful, always integrating deceit and disguise into their being with evil magic.

The Light God urged the soldiers to open their eyes and see the true face of the enemy. Soldiers now believed that the little good impression they initially had of the mage was merely an illusion created by evil spells from the mages.

Thus, there was only one question on their minds: "Why does the revered Commander Wislin have such an evil friend? Is he trying to redeem that malicious heart, or save the mage's fallen soul?"

As for Wislin, he had virtually no way of dealing with this situation. So apart from appearing in the Five Realms Castle during training and defense inspections, he hid in his room at other times, watching everything happening in the fortress through the window.

This was the new commander's office, all the equipment supplied by the dwarves from the All-Knowing Tower after repelling the snake-men. Although mostly made of stone—even the chairs—it all looked ruggedly bold, and became quite comfortable after being covered with thick carpets.

Wislin now sat slouched in such a chair, contemplating everything he must face in the future. He had a vague feeling that the entire temple was beginning to warp and twist far from the ideal image he remembered. The recent barrage of orders, requiring him to be ready for the spring offensive, was starting to annoy him.

He knew such an attack was too risky, and now was not the right time, nor was it... Yet deep inside, there was always a voice, unclear but persistently trying to convince Wislin that all the plans would succeed. His reason and passion were in constant battle within his soul.

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