The Elven Evolution: Starting With 1 Million SSSR Skills

Chapter 206: [206] Meeting The Archmage

After a short talk, as a show of good will, Eliron sent the herald back to whatever dimension it was coming from, allowing the mages to get back to their business.

The Archmage had promised to judge things clearly, and besides, if he decided to act up, Eliron could always summon the herald back...

It would only be worse for them, considering that Artie was now fully recovered, and terribly furious.

The person she would have put her anger on was dead, and his accomplice was out of it, so there was nowhere to direct her anger.

Currently, they were all seated in the Archmage’s office. The place had that new book smell, which was understandable considering the room was covered by rows of shelves.

Yennefer was seated by his side, her head resting on his shoulders as she complained, murmuring about how it was apparently time for lunch.

Artie was on his other side, she had an aloof look on her face as she stared at the Archmage who was sitting opposite them. But there was coldness in those green eyes.

As for the ’royal bandit’, he and his assistant Eliron now knew as Ciera, were seated on another couch by the side.

"So you are telling me the grand mage himself got involved in a duel between mages lower than his rank?"

Sirius asked after Eliron told him all that had happened.

Eliron nodded.

The Archmage’s fingers tightened around the blade of his tea cup, a vein pulsing on his forehead.

"How foolish could he be?! I will have to discipline him and Tiberius myself."

Eliron and Yennefer shared a look. "Well that is going to be difficult, considering he is dead and all..." Yennefer spoke dryly.

"Dead? As in gone?"

"Yep." Yen nodded. Eliron burned him to a crisp."

Artie stifled a laugh.

The Archmage’s brows twitched. "Ahh, I see."

’We can probably frame that as self defence...’ he thought to himself.

Then his expression darkened just before he laughed nervously. "It looks like this is going to be a busy week..."

Sirius tiredly raised his gaze to meet Artie’s.

"Allow me to formally apologize to you Miss Artie. As my subordinates, their actions, whether I like it or not, are a reflection of me."

As he spoke, Eliron could tell that it was forced, especially the part of their actions being a reflection of him.

In fact, he could bet a gold coin that Sirius was probably cussing out the grand mage in his head.

"Grand mage Azarath has confessed to interfering with the match, and as such the conditions that were set before it will remain unchanged. I will also compensate you for damages."

"Welcome to the tower, Witch Artie."

Artie bowed respectfully. "Thank you Archmage."

Starting from now, he was her senior, and she officially had as much clearance as a tower wizard/witch.

Although Artie certainly had her own reasons for coming to the tower, her new rank as a witch was a big boon for Atrais.

Many doors had undoubtedly been opened due to her affiliation with the tower, doors that would prove beneficial to them in the future.

For example, meeting a noble or lord would be difficult if he announced himself simply as the lord of the wood elves.

Currently, the name of Artaris did not hold any water in global politics. But a tower witch? Now that was something they could get off with.

’Was she also thinking of Artaris while doing this?’ Eliron had no idea.

Sirius drank from his cup. It was green tea that was just the right temperature, with a fragrant aroma that spoke well of its quality.

"Will that be okay, lord Eliron?"

Eliron nodded. "It is only fair that the terms of the agreement will be met."

"Agreed." Sirius then turned to stare at Alexander and Ciera. The two of them were still wearing their masks, and considering that they were dressed like robbers, it made them look rather odd.

"Are the masks some sort of tradition among thr high elves? Are they secret guards or something?" He asked curiously, seeming oddly facinated by them.

"They haven’t even spoke a word since I met them. An oast of silence perhaps." He watched them intently. "I hear there are some tribes that practice such traditions—"

"Nope. They aren’t related to us in anyway, it’s a bit of a long story actually." Eliron waved a hand at them. "You can take off your masks."

Since they were with the Archmage, there was hardly any reason to hide their true identities.

Alexander wasted no time. He grabbed his mask and took it off, Ciera follwoing his lead. Then he smiled at Sirius, half expecting a greeting, as was customary.

But Sirius just stared blankly at him, sipping sharply from his cup. "Two unremarkable faces, how dull."

"Huh?" Alexander blinked, clearly surprised that the Archmage had no idea who he was.

"Back to our discussion Elven lord—"

"Wait, wait! Are you saying you don’t know who I am?" Alexander looked as though he was about to stand up from his chair.

"Hmmm?" The Archmage’s eyes narrowed as he observed him closely. "Are you supposed to be someone notable? Now that I think about it, you do seem a little familiar.

"I am the Prince of Donia! Your prince!"

"..."

"Ahh, I see. Hard to keep track you know? You humans barely live longer than flies. I blink and a new king is screaming orders at the tower."

Eliron picked up his tea and savoured his taste. "Indeed Archmage, humans lead such short lives..."

"Hehehehe." He and the Archmage laughed simultaneously, much to the expense of the humans in the room.

Alexander stared at them for a moment longer before deciding to drop the topic, plopping down to his chair.

Meanwhile, Eliron glanced at him from the corner of his eye, observing his reaction.

’Not like you are human though...’

In the novel, the author had managed to fool the readers for quite some time, right until the great plot twist at the end.

The truth was that the prince of Donia was not human, at least not fully. He was actually a...