Chapter 259: "The Fourteenth Book of the Dead

"He claimed he got it at an auction—an underground one, where all the goods have questionable origins," Elden said with a shrug. "The appraisers there didn't recognize its true value and just sold the Gemstone as an ordinary Magic Item. That's how Henry got it for a steal."

"Dean Elden, may I interrupt you for a moment?" Silvia's voice suddenly came from behind the group. "This 'Henry Robertson' you mentioned... does he go by any other names?"

"Other... names?" As Elden turned, the Vampire Descendant's face in the dim light gave him a start, but he quickly composed himself. "I can't say I've heard any. He had the lowest social standing of all the attendees at that conference. Even if he had some pretentious title, I doubt he'd dare flaunt it in front of us."

The Dwarf shot a pointed glance at his two students, and Gordon and Shiva quickly lowered their heads. It seemed they were also Casters with "pretentious titles," and unfortunately for them, their Dean had heard about them.

"Well, I've actually heard something," Gordon said cautiously, glancing at Elden's expression. "My major includes courses from the Necromancy School, and I once attended a lecture by Mr. Henry. He calls himself 'The Fourteenth Book of the Dead'."

Ron noticed Silvia's body tremble violently before she froze in place.

"The core theoretical texts of the Necromancy School only have thirteen volumes, and he wants to be the fourteenth?" Elden scoffed, not noticing Silvia's strange reaction. "I guess he has some shame, at least. He didn't call himself 'Book Zero.' My wife and I once ran into an arrogant human like that while traveling the world. He called himself the 'Preface to Illusion Magic.'"

"And what happened then?" Ron asked, giving Silvia a reassuring look. "Your wife is a true Illusion Master, after all."

Elden nodded in satisfaction, clearly pleased with Ron's flattery. "Of course. She couldn't tolerate a guy like that ruining the good name of Mages from the Illusion School. So, the next time he was putting on one of his fraudulent shows, she played a little trick to publicly humiliate him."

"He was demonstrating his crude techniques to some Mages from other schools. My wife made him believe he'd already finished his performance and suddenly had an urgent need to go. In the Illusion Magic, he saw the audience off and rushed to the toilet for explosive relief. But in reality..."

"He pulled down his pants in front of everyone and took a massive dump!"

The joke might have been a bit much for other races, but for a Dwarf, it was perfect. Even Elden, despite being afflicted by the fading sickness, couldn't help but double over with laughter as he recalled the old anecdote.

As for the others, his two students were laughing quite awkwardly.

'Who would have thought that their highly respected Dean had played such a nasty prank in his youth? And he's still reveling in it! Thank goodness he's lost most of his sense of humor. Otherwise, the atmosphere at their academy would probably be...'

'And considering that a Dwarf's lifespan could easily rival an Elf's if not for the fading sickness, what would Elden Academy be like if it had been founded by an Elden free from that affliction?'

Ron laughed along with them, but his attention was almost entirely on Silvia. The Vampire Descendant had mentioned her abusive "teacher" several times. If Ron wasn't mistaken, that Necromancer was very likely Henry Robertson.

"Benefactor, I need to request some time off. I'll be leaving Delusional Land for a while."

Sure enough, a few days after they saw Elden and his students off, Silvia knocked on Ron's door. The Vampire Descendant looked preoccupied, and the written leave request she handed him was a jumble of illogical phrases.

"I, uh... I have some clues about my birth father. I want to go look for him and see if I can find anything," Silvia said, forcing a strained smile. "Please, don't worry. I have no intention of leaving your service. This place is like a home to me. Regardless of the outcome, I will be back soon."

"That's not a very convincing excuse," Ron said, shaking his head and setting the note aside. "We spend most of our time adventuring together. Where would you have gotten a clue like that?"

"From a passing merch—"

"Or let me ask a different way: Do you even remember where your home was? Your mother was turned while she was pregnant with you, so how could you possibly know who your father is?"

Ron sighed. "Silvia, we're companions. We've been through so much together. You shouldn't be hiding things from me. It doesn't do anyone any good—it only hurts you, me, Victoria, and the others. Speaking of which, have you mentioned this to them?"

"No, I didn't want them to..."

"You're putting me in an impossible position," Ron said, shaking his head. "When they ask me about it later, what am I supposed to say? 'I let Silvia go off alone to get her revenge'? You call me 'Benefactor' all the time, but this is no way to show your gratitude!"

"But..." Silvia gave a bitter smile. "This needs to be finished. That scum, Henry Robertson, must pay for his brutality! I'm not the person I used to be. I can—"

"Defeat him in his own workshop or Mage Tower? Silvia, you're a Caster yourself. You taught me most of what I know. Do I really need to explain to you how difficult that would be?"

"Are you saying no?" Disappointment, even despair, filled Silvia's eyes. "But you can't do this! You said I wasn't anyone's slave anymore, that I was free! I think I have the right to settle things with my past!"

"Henry isn't an incredibly powerful Mage. My strength is already approaching his. I'm sure I can find an opportunity to kill him outside his Mage Tower!"

"I'll be back soon, I promise!"

Ron motioned for Silvia to come inside and sit down. He then took out a stack of parchment and began to sketch and write on it. "Silvia, even if you did manage to find and seize an opportunity to kill Henry, have you thought about what you'd do afterward?"

"Carolina may condone slavery and slave trafficking, but it isn't a lawless place. Especially for a Caster like your former master—if someone of his status is murdered, it will inevitably trigger a chain reaction. He probably has numerous guards and bodyguards. Your plan is more likely to be over before it even begins."

"Calm down and think. What are the odds of your so-called plan succeeding? And what are the odds of you escaping with your life?"

"I guaranteed your freedom, but not so you could be 'free to get yourself killed'! To escape from a slaver only to deliver yourself right back to him? That sounds like something Sera would do."

"Sera..." Silvia was exasperated. "Please don't say that. Sera just doesn't like to think things through; she wouldn't..."

"Do what you're about to do. Even the Barbarian Race from the north wouldn't do something this foolish. Look."

"Fine, but are we just supposed to let it go?" Silvia clenched her fists. "Is that scumbag just going to live out the rest of his life in peace, without facing any consequences?"

"Of course not," Ron said, his pen flying across the parchment. "Like I said: we're companions. A team effort is a much better plan than a solo assassination mission that ends in mutual destruction."

"Carolina signed a truce with us not long ago. Now that Ming Datiss is dead, the conflict between us should officially be over."

"So, what do you think about me visiting Carolina in my capacity as the Lord of Delusional Land? I'd like to discuss a few potential exchanges with them. And even if that doesn't pan out, it's perfectly reasonable for one Caster to want to meet the renowned 'Fourteenth Book of the Dead,' wouldn't you say?"