Chapter 87
Chapter 87
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 87: Lan Qi’s Brand-New Day
May 22, 2024 — Author: Poor Xixi
Southern Continent, Kreyth Empire.
Hidden deep underground lay a pitch-black palace, the embodiment of absolute power.
This ancient subterranean city was shrouded in eternal night. Yet, magical devices cleverly imitated the blood moon, casting eerie shadows. Along the wide, empty streets, buildings of dark stone loomed—massive and solemn, their silhouettes carved with the artistry of a bygone era, quietly slumbering in the darkness, sealed in the dust of endless time.
At the city’s end rose a fortress exuding chilling, ominous magical power. Its walls were hewn from natural obsidian, inlaid with cold silver trim and medieval-style crimson crystal ornaments that shimmered faintly.
A cloaked figure approached the castle gates, stepping further inside. Passing through corridors of opulent decoration, he finally pushed open a towering black-iron door.
Before him stretched a grand council hall, steeped in the aura of authority and history.
Beneath a vaulted ceiling of immortal-crystal rose windows, chandeliers hung on icy chains, radiating a decadent brilliance. A crimson carpet streamed like flowing blood toward the hall’s farthest end, while crystal light refracted like stars, lending the chamber a strange, shadowed beauty.
At the center stood a banquet table stretching dozens of meters, forged of iron-black steel and etched with intricate blood-clan sigils—both arcane spellwork and a reflection of vampiric artistry. High-backed chairs lined either side, each like a throne, crowned with gem-inlaid emblems unique to their owners.
Yet at this moment—
The council hall was deathly silent. Only one of the thirteen thrones was occupied.
The cloaked man remained standing at the far end of the table, not daring to sit.
“Marquis Heretir, the cult of Resurrection encountered that half-demon… but failed.”
His voice was that of a man’s, respectful and restrained.
In the distance—
The figure on the seventh throne slowly lifted her head, though her eyes remained closed, as though gazing past the vaulted ceiling into constellations woven from starlight.
“…It should not be.”
She murmured,“That half-blood’s death-star has already appeared twice—yet both times, fate was overturned.”
The man stayed silent. He knew well the two incidents she referred to.
The first: Xuberián should have perished in failure upon entering the capital of Hedon.
The second: she should have been killed by the cultists within the Shadow World.
But neither destined end had come to pass. Both had been rewritten.
And all of it traced back to one figure—a human freshman at Ikerite Academy, who had appeared out of nowhere.
“The remnants of the demons must be eradicated… at all costs.”
The blood-marquis’s voice was cold and timeless—half lament, half resentment, half inevitability, and tinged with a sorrow even the ages could not erase.
“History teaches us: only when human and demonic powers converge does a threat strong enough to endanger us arise.”
Finally, the marquis opened her crimson eyes. Beneath the shadows, no one could guess how many centuries of memory lay buried within.
In this era, demons had already been annihilated by human hands.
And yet—under unchecked ambition, cults ran rampant, the continents of north and south splintered, and humans waged endless wars for power.
Such folly could mean only one thing—
“The Blood Moon’s age of glory shall return. Humanity must remember their place as slaves.”
Her flawless, coldly beautiful face remained calm, yet carried a distant authority none dared profane.
Each word rang clear in the hall, like ice shards cracking at winter’s end.
Kingdom of Hedon, Capital Ikerite.
As dawn’s golden light spilled gently over Ikerite Academy’s ancient campus, the stone buildings basked in a warm glow, steeped in centuries of history.
The dormitory of the College of Sages stirred awake, with students coming and going through its doors.
It was the third morning of the new term.
Lan Qi leaned against his balcony doorway, sipping coffee, listening to birdsong among the trees as he watched classmates head off to class.
Yesterday morning, he had returned from the Shadow World, and slept deeply until the early hours of today.
After sneaking out at midnight for a meal he wasn’t sure to call breakfast or supper, he returned to his desk to study card-making. Beside him sat a thick volume: The Registration Charter of the Southern Continent Card-Makers’ Association.
Now, he had already advanced to Third Rank, finally qualified for consideration.
Only by becoming a registered card-maker with the Association could he secure official patent protection, bypass tedious verification processes, and reduce costly fees.
And, naturally, the higher one’s rank, the greater the privileges.
If he and Xuberián wished to open a shop selling exclusive magic cards, then besides her needing to secure a business license, he too would need Association registration. Their starting momentum would depend directly on his rank.
The next registration exam in Hedon’s capital, however, would not be held for over a month.
A long wait, perhaps, but even with the extra time, Lan Qi wasn’t confident he could pass so soon.
He still had to learn from Talia about crafting third-rank cards.
His card-making remained unstable. Without vast improvement, whether he could even produce a completed card during the exam would be down to sheer luck.
And yet—there was hope.
He remembered Talia’s words:To maximize your odds, choose the type of magic most compatible with you.
Because compatibility directly determined a card-maker’s success rate.
This was why card-makers eventually specialized in certain fields.
For example, Talia excelled in three types: Curse, Mind, and Poison.Her affinity with Curse was supreme, while Mind and Poison were excellent—naturally steering her toward curse-type card-making as her specialty.
Other categories, such as elemental magic, she was poorly matched with.
As for Lan Qi, Talia had assessed him: decent affinity with Mind, weak with Poison, and abysmal with Curse. She hadn’t bothered checking further.
Still—if he, like Talia, possessed one supreme affinity, then in the exam he could simply choose that type!
And later, it might even shape his entire card-making career.