The Most Arbitrary Wizard

The outskirts of Old Mundo City. An abandoned factory.

After Sean and Eleanor shook off their pursuers from the Little Gista Family, they took a long, roundabout route and finally arrived at the designated factory to rendezvous with the others.

The factory had been out of use for a long time. Everything inside was dilapidated, and the air was thick with the smell of dust. It was also dim, with only a few slivers of moonlight filtering down from an open skylight in the corner, barely enough for Sean and Eleanor to make out each other’s faces.

"Looks like they’re not here yet?" Eleanor said, looking around but seeing no one.

"Let’s wait. They might have run into trouble on the way," Sean said. He grabbed two nearby stools, blew the dust off them, and gestured for the girl to sit, simultaneously causing the painting in his hand to disperse.

Eleanor rested her chin in her hands and tilted her head. "It would’ve been great if our painting was the real one."

Sean was puzzled. "What’s the difference?"

They were one team; it didn’t matter who held it. In the end, when they handed it over to their contact, all six of their names would be recorded anyway.

"Or are you worried Teacher Tony will take the painting and make a run for it?" Sean asked.

Eleanor replied, "It’s not that."

Although she didn’t get along with Tony, who always liked to put on airs in front of Sean, she still trusted her teammate when it came to official business. Besides, Blake City wasn’t that big. Wizards who frequently took missions from the Church Court ran into each other all the time. If word got out that someone had taken a mission’s entire reward for themself, no one would ever work with Tony again. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t do something so stupid.

Eleanor said, "I just think, since we’re just sitting here idle, if we had the painting, we could keep trying to see if we can make out its contents."

Clearly, she hadn’t given up on the secret the First Saintess had hidden within the painting.

This was mainly because it was a rare opportunity to increase one’s Magic Power through an external object. If she hadn’t been here on a mission to assassinate the Saintess, she might have just hugged the painting and stared at it for three days and three nights.

Eleanor was nineteen this year. To have reached Tier Six through cultivation at her age was proof enough of her considerable Talent. Given enough time, Eleanor refused to believe she wouldn’t be able to decipher anything from it.

Sean chuckled and shook his head. "I’d advise you not to make things so hard on yourself. This isn’t a matter of Talent."

Eleanor was confused. "Then what is it?"

"It’s a problem with the painting," Sean said. "It’s been tampered with."

"Huh?"

She hadn’t expected Sean to say that. Stunned for a moment, she asked, "How do you know?"

Sean didn’t explain. "You don’t need to worry about that. Just understand that the painting isn’t as simple as you think."

Just then, a voice suddenly emerged from behind a load-bearing pillar in a pitch-black corner:

"Indeed."

Sean tensed.

Eleanor flinched.

Startled, they both yelled at the same time, "Who’s there?!"

"Me." A figure walked out from behind the pillar. They didn’t see his face clearly until he reached the doorway and was illuminated by the light from outside.

"Kave?"

Eleanor, who already had a spell forming in her hand, relaxed when she saw it was one of their own. "Why didn’t you come out when we first arrived?" she demanded irritably. "Were you hiding there on purpose to scare us?"

Kave had an innocent look on his face. "It’s so dark in here. I couldn’t be sure it was you right away."

He had completed hundreds of missions, big and small, and had returned safely to Blake City every single time. It was all thanks to his cautious nature.

"Wait a minute, weren’t you supposed to get the car? How did you get here so fast?" Eleanor asked. "Don’t tell me you forgot to bring it."

Kave replied indignantly, "Am I that unreliable?"

"Then where’s the car?"

"Hidden, of course."

Kave said, "You two drew all the heat. No one was chasing me, so it would’ve been strange if I’d been slower than you."

Sean then asked him, "Did you also realize something was off with the painting?"

"Mmm." Kave first nodded, then shook his head. "I wouldn’t say something is ’off,’ but it’s definitely not in its original state."

"If you follow Agivis’s instructions and touch the painting with your Mental Power, you’ll find it contains a very dense Magic Power, far exceeding our own."

Eleanor didn’t understand. "The First Saintess was Tier Ten. Isn’t it normal for a painting she created to have Magic Power that surpasses ours?"

"If it were only that, then yes, it would be normal." Kave paused before continuing, "But I study archaeology."

There’s no inherent connection between archaeology and Mysticism, but because of his major, Kave had come into contact with many "artifacts" left over from the last century.

Some were just ordinary antiques that could fetch a good price, which Wizards weren’t interested in. But some antiques contained Magic Power, making them Magic Items similar to a Magic Wand. Without exception, the aura they emitted had a certain ancient, profound sense of history. It’s a difficult feeling to describe, but anyone who frequently deals with antiques can generally tell their age at a glance.

But that painting was different.

The Magic Power on the painting was "brand-new."

This meant that someone had recently tampered with the painting, and that person was at least a Grand Mage.

But as for how "off" it was... it didn’t seem to be, really.

In Kave’s opinion, it was likely that this Grand Mage had deliberately concealed the painting’s contents, perhaps as some kind of test. That explanation made logical sense.

Sean frowned. "But who would have the guts to tamper with the First Saintess’s painting? Aren’t they afraid the Church Court will come after them?"

Kave shrugged. "Maybe it was the Church Court itself?"

’The Church Court itself?’

The words sparked something in Sean’s mind. He felt like he was on the verge of grasping something important, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the key point.

"What are you two talking about?"

Johnson’s voice came from the doorway. Next to him was another person, Ryan.

They had run into each other outside the abandoned factory and came over together.

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