The Genius Mage Was Reincarnated Into A Swordsman Family

Chapter 359: A Midnight Invitation

The silence in the guest chamber was heavy, not with peace, but with the weight of invisible barriers. Klaus sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes closed, listening to the faint hum of the suppression runes etched into the doorframe. They were designed to keep him contained, a magical cage woven by the palace's finest mages. To anyone else, the room was a prison. To Klaus, it was just a quiet space where the air felt slightly thicker than usual.

He didn't need to see the runes to know they were there. He could feel the texture of the magic against his skin, a prickling sensation like static electricity before a storm.

Then, he heard it.

It wasn't a footstep. It was the shift in breathing on the other side of the thick oak door. Someone was standing there, hesitating. The person's heart rate was elevated, thumping against their ribs with a rhythm that betrayed nervousness. They were debating whether to turn the key or run away.

Klaus opened his eyes. His expression was calm, almost bored.

He stood up and took two steps toward the door. He didn't reach for the handle. Instead, he focused on the space directly behind the wood, visualizing the coordinates with perfect clarity. There was no chant, no flare of light, no buildup of energy. One moment he was in the center of the room, and the next, the air displaced with a soft pop, and he was gone.

* * *

On the other side of the door, Jasmine froze. She had just slipped the key into the lock, her hand trembling slightly. She was ready to sprint the second the bolt clicked open. She expected to find a confused, perhaps angry young man trapped inside.

She did not expect the door to remain locked while the person she was trying to rescue suddenly appeared right in front of her face.

Klaus materialized inches from her, his presence so sudden and silent that her survival instincts screamed before her brain could process what she was seeing. Her hand flew to the hilt of the short sword at her waist, muscles coiling to draw the blade in a desperate defensive reflex.

But she never got the chance.

Before her fingers could even curl around the grip, Klaus's hand was already there. He hadn't moved fast; he had simply been there first. His palm rested casually on the pommel of her sword, pinning it firmly in its scabbard. The pressure was light, yet absolute. No matter how much strength she poured into her arm, the sword refused to budge.

Jasmine's eyes went wide, her breath hitching in her throat. She stared at the hand blocking her weapon, then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Hello," Klaus said. His voice was flat, devoid of surprise or threat. He sounded like he was greeting a neighbor over the fence.

Jasmine stumbled back a step, her boot scraping loudly against the stone floor. "K... K... Klaus L... Lionhart?" she stammered, her voice cracking. She looked at the locked door behind him, then back at him, her mind struggling to reconcile the impossible. "But... how?"

The room he had just left was sealed from the outside. The runes on the door were active. It was physically and magically impossible for anyone to exit without the seal being removed from the hallway side. She had come here specifically to unlock it and sneak him out before the guards noticed. Yet, here he was, standing in the corridor as if he had been waiting for her all along.

Klaus tilted his head slightly, studying her. She was a woman in her mid-twenties, with short black hair cut sharply around her jawline and piercing green eyes that were currently filled with confusion and fear. She wore the dark, nondescript uniform of a palace attendant, but her posture spoke of training.

"Who might you be?" Klaus asked. He didn't release her sword yet, keeping his hand resting lightly on the hilt.

"I'm Jasmine," she managed to say, though her voice still shook. She tried to pull her sword away again, testing his grip, but it was like trying to lift a mountain. "I'm the personal escort of Princess Helene."

Klaus's eyebrows raised a fraction. "Helene's escort?"

"Yes," Jasmine said, finding a sliver of courage now that she had identified herself. "Princess Helene sent me. She... she needs to speak with you. Urgently." She finally stopped tugging at her sword and looked up at him, her green eyes searching his face. "But seriously, how did you get out? The seals are high-tier. Even the Captain of the Guard couldn't break them without alerting the whole palace."

Klaus didn't answer. He just looked at her, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, becoming awkward. Jasmine shifted her weight, uncomfortable under his steady gaze.

"Why are you here?" Klaus asked finally, ignoring her question completely.

Jasmine blinked. "I just told you. The Princess wants to talk. She knows you're being held against your will, or at least restricted, and she wants to help you leave before the political situation gets worse. The Monarchs are arguing, the army is mobilizing, and she thinks you're in danger."

"She thinks I'm in danger," Klaus repeated slowly.

"Yes. So please, we need to go. Now." Jasmine glanced down the long, torch-lit corridor. "If anyone sees us..."

"Lead the way," Klaus said. He finally removed his hand from her sword.

Jasmine let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She rubbed her wrist, shooting him another bewildered look, but decided not to press the issue of the teleportation. If he could bypass high-tier seals, questioning him seemed like a waste of precious time.

"Follow me," she whispered. "And stay close. We have to use the servant passages. They're less guarded."

She turned and started walking briskly, motioning for him to follow. Klaus fell into step beside her, his hands in his pockets, looking more like he was taking a leisurely stroll than escaping a high-security detention.

As they moved through the narrow service corridors, the atmosphere of the palace felt different than it had when he arrived. Usually, the Ice Palace was a place of rigid order and cold silence. Today, it was chaotic. They passed several groups of servants rushing past with armfuls of scrolls, armor, and supplies. Soldiers in full plate armor marched in tight formations, their faces grim. Officers shouted orders, their voices echoing off the stone walls.

"It looks busy," Klaus observed casually as they ducked behind a stack of crates to avoid a patrol of guards marching in the opposite direction.

"The Frostfang Peaks have opened," Jasmine whispered, peeking around the corner before signaling him to move. "Everyone is scrambling. It's actually working in our favor. No one is paying attention to a missing prisoner when they think the world is ending."

They navigated the labyrinthine tunnels, descending deeper into the foundations of the palace before emerging through a hidden exit disguised as a maintenance hatch near the lower gardens. The cold night air hit them immediately, sharp and biting.

Jasmine pulled a dark hooded cloak from her bag and held it out to him. "Put this on. We can't have people recognizing one of the Lionhart heirs wandering the streets at night."

Klaus looked at the cloak, then reached up and pulled the hood of his own jacket over his head. The fabric was thick and dark, effectively obscuring his features.

Jasmine paused, the cloak still in her hands. "Oh. You already..."

"I predicted you'd ask," Klaus said simply.

She stared at him for a second, then shook her head with a nervous laugh. "Right. Of course you did. Let's just go."

They walked quickly through the shadowed streets of the city surrounding the palace. The usual nighttime bustle was subdued, replaced by an undercurrent of tension. People hurried home, doors were barred early, and the few lanterns lit cast long, dancing shadows. Jasmine kept her head down, steering Klaus through alleys and side streets, avoiding the main thoroughfares where patrols were heavy.

After about ten minutes of walking, they stopped in front of a nondescript building tucked between a bakery and a tailor shop. The sign above the door was faded, depicting a silver mug, but the windows were dark.

"This is it," Jasmine said softly. She knocked on the door in a specific rhythm: three quick taps, a pause, then two slow ones.

A small slit in the door opened, and a pair of eyes scanned them before the door swung inward.

"Don't worry," Jasmine said, noticing Klaus's brief scan of the interior. "Everyone inside is loyal to Princess Helene. You're safe here."

They stepped inside. The warmth of the pub hit them instantly, carrying the scent of roasted meat, spiced wine, and woodsmoke. It was a cozy place, with low beams and rough-hewn tables. But as soon as they entered, the noise died.

Conversations halted mid-sentence. The clinking of mugs stopped. A group of men playing cards froze, their cards forgotten in their hands. Every eye in the room turned toward the door, fixing on Klaus.

There were about twenty people inside. Some looked like common laborers, others like merchants, but all of them carried themselves with a subtle grace that hinted at noble training or military background. They weren't just patrons; they were guards in disguise.

Jasmine gestured to a table in the corner. "Take a seat. I'll go get the Princess."

Klaus didn't move toward the table. He ignored her suggestion completely. His gaze swept across the room, analyzing the exits, the weapons concealed beneath coats, the tension in the shoulders of the people watching him. Then, his eyes landed on the counter at the far end of the room.

Behind the bar stood a young girl. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. She was wiping a glass with a rag, wearing a simple apron over a plain dress. Her attire was pitifully modest, stained with spilled ale and flour, yet it somehow failed to hide her bearing. There was an elegance in the way she held her head, a natural authority in her posture that no amount of servant's clothing could suppress. Her beauty was stunning, sharp and regal, making the dim, smoky pub feel like a throne room.

Klaus walked past Jasmine, past the empty tables, and headed straight for the counter. The crowd parted instinctively as he approached, creating a path without anyone realizing they were doing it.

He stopped directly in front of the girl behind the bar. She stopped wiping the glass. Her hands stilled, and she slowly looked up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were a familiar shade of ruby red, filled with a mixture of relief, anxiety, and something deeper that Klaus couldn't quite place.

The entire room held its breath. Jasmine stood frozen near the door, watching in disbelief as the boy who had just teleported out of a sealed room walked up to the bartender as if he owned the place.

Klaus leaned slightly against the counter, his hood casting a shadow over his face, though his smile was visible.

"Good evening, Princess Helene," he said.