Zenith of Sorcery

It was odd, Marcus would later reflect, but having a fireball suddenly thrown directly at you wasn’t nearly as shocking as he would have guessed. For a while now, Marcus had been trying to operate in unfamiliar waters… but fighting? If there was anything Marcus was really good at, it was fighting. The feeling of slipping into a combat-ready mindset was familiar and reassuring, and he didn’t hesitate for even a moment.

He acted wordlessly and immediately, turning to his side in a single step and thrusting both of his hands away from him. One, holding his staff, was thrust towards the incoming fireball, creating a concave shield of force in the path of the fiery projectile. The other, holding nothing, was thrust towards his students behind them. Young and inexperienced as they were, they were still frozen in shock, struggling to process what had happened.

Two things happened simultaneously. The fireball hit the concave shield and exploded, but the shield redirected the blast right back at the spirit mage who cast it. Secondly, a wave of force hit Marcus’s students from his outstretched hands, lifting them up in the air and carrying them off into the distance, away from the fighting.

The girl with blood red eyes reacted faster than Marcus’s own students, perhaps because she had already expected something like this, and ran off the moment her companion threw the fireball at Marcus. When the redirected fireball blast washed over the area where the man stood, she was already gone and wasn’t caught in it alongside him.

The gathered crowd, previously happy enough to stand on the sidelines and commentate on the public dispute, immediately fled the scene amid screams and shouted curses. Some reacted faster than others, but nobody wanted to get caught in the crossfire. Adria was full of mages, and this wasn’t the first time a dispute between them erupted into an actual spell exchange.

The flames washed over the gaudily-dressed man, who did not attempt to dodge them in any way. Unsurprisingly, when the spell faded, he was unharmed.

This wasn’t too much of a surprise. The signature ability of a spirit mage was that they had the ability to inject traces of their spirit into their spells, allowing their magic to have a certain measure of life and conscious intent. Obviously, the flames created in such a fashion would not harm their creator, even if they were somehow redirected back at them.

Marcus didn’t pause. Before the fires had even fully cleared, he was already casting an offensive earth magic spell. Spears of stone erupted from the road stones the strange mage was standing on, attempting to spear him through. The man flew up in the air to avoid them, and simultaneously swung his staff towards Marcus again. Four blazing whips shot out from the staff towards him, causing him to launch himself into the air as well. The whips carved deep groves into the road where he once stood, the edges glowing with heat.

Marcus snapped his fingers and the stone spikes he had created earlier detonated into a cloud of needle-like stone shards. The needles showered the entire area, burying themselves deep into the road stones and the walls of nearby buildings, but most importantly… they shot upwards towards Marcus’s enemy, who had only flown a little bit to avoid his spikes and was directly above them.

The man tried to hurl himself away from the blast zone and shield himself, but was not fast enough. His shield weakened the needles, but broke in the process, and an expanding cloud of needles ended up… passing straight through him.

The man momentarily shifted into a humanoid form made out of fire, and the needles passed through it without harming him at all.

“Oho! You’re even better than I hoped!” the man praised loudly.

Marcus didn’t deign to grace that with a verbal response. He threw a lightning bolt at his opponent, but the man created some kind of pitch black orb in his hand that sucked the lightning in and absorbed it.

He then raised his staff into the air and a mass of black tentacles burst out of the ground between them. Their tips quickly bulged and split-apart, opening up into giant flaming flowers that lunged towards Marcus from several different directions. Simultaneously, a strange sort of dimensional spell enveloped Marcus, pressing in on him and hampering his attempts to move out of the way of the attacks.

This guy… dimensional magic like this was not a small matter. There was no way his enemy was just a spirit manifestation mage. He had to be rank six or seven, at least.

“Implosion!” Marcus shouted, closing his fist before him like he was catching a fly. There was a large boom as everything in front of him, including air, suddenly rushed inward, compressed into a tiny spot in the middle. The black tentacles and the flaming flowers on top of them, the nearby roof tiles, the rubble strewn across the street, and every other object that wasn’t firmly attached to something were instantly crushed by indescribable pressure.

The inward-pulling force also tried to suck in the opposing mage, but the man was quick to react. He immutably slammed into the ground, stabbing his staff into the remains of the road, where it seemingly took root and refused to be dislodged.

Following the initial collapse, the air bounced back, and a massive blast wave radiated outward, dealing further damage to everything in sight.

Both Marcus and his enemy were still for a second following this.

“Gods… are you crazy!?” the man shouted at Marcus. “That could actually hurt someone!”

“You threw a fireball at someone in a highly populated area,” Marcus pointed out. “At least I made sure there were no bystanders when I started demolishing the entire area.”

It wasn’t like he had collapsed the surrounding buildings or anything. The people huddled inside should be fine, if a little shaken by the experience.

Anyway, Marcus had had enough. He didn’t know who this man was, but he was clearly very powerful and Marcus couldn’t afford to hold back against him.

He threw away his simple wooden staff. It clattered to the ground and rolled away from him slightly. Then, much like his opponent, he stretched out his hand and summoned his real combat staff from his own pocket dimension, held in the storage bracelet hidden beneath his sleeve.

The dark brown staff was larger and more elaborate than the one he usually carried out in the open. Both tips were decorated with metal tips made out of silver, and glittering golden runes covered its entire length.

He flared out his spirit in a silent challenge, an illusion of a gigantic ghostly oak manifesting behind him.

“If you have any honor, let’s take this out of the city so no bystanders are hurt,” Marcus told the stranger.

If the man didn’t comply, Marcus had a few ways of forcing them outside of Adria. It was just that they all had serious side-effects and he would rather avoid using them.

“Wait,” the man said. He held out his hand towards Marcus in a placating manner. “There is no need to go this far.”

Marcus snorted at him contemptuously. He threw a fist-full of gems into the air, and they promptly started to glow and orbit around him, like several dozen deadly little stars.

“We’re causing too much of a scene,” the man said. “The locals will send someone to investigate.”

“I am a local here,” Marcus pointed out. “I am an elder of the Academy, and you are a mere outsider. Why would I care about academy enforcers? You’re the only one who will have to explain himself.”

Marcus knew that there were already some forces from Great Sea Academy present. However, they were not spirit adepts, and they had enough common sense to stay away and simply observe the situation.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear Marcus,” the man said, giving him a cheerful smile. “This body is just an avatar. If I’m truly cornered, I’ll just let it dissipate. You’ll be left alone to explain what happened here.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes at him, trying to figure out if the strange man was telling the truth.

He probably was. Damn it.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded.

“Well I told you earlier, didn’t I?” the man said. “I want you to take care of your daughter.”

“She isn’t my daughter,” Marcus told him. “The bystanders are long gone, so why do you continue this charade? We both know it isn’t true.”

“How can you be so sure?” the man asked, raising his eyebrow at him. “Elves are so similar to humans and proficient in changing their appearance. Any random woman you slept with could have been an elf in disguise.”

“I haven’t slept with anyone ever, elf or otherwise,” Marcus told him matter-of-factly.

The man stared at him for a second, mulling something in his head for a few moments. “There are spells that allow one to sidestep that part of process and impregnate a woman anyway, without the need for-“

Marcus stared at the man wordlessly.

“You could have also been memory wiped at any time without realizing it. That happened to me more than once, you know,” the man continued. “And there are rituals that will make someone your spiritual successor, even if they’re not really your biological child…”

Marcus continued to stare at him in silence.

The man gave up on his explanation with a resigned sigh. “Listen, do me a favor and just take the girl as your student, will you?”

“You didn’t exactly leave a good impression here,” Marcus said. “Why would I do you a favor?”

That said, Marcus reigned in his spirit and relaxed his posture a bit. It didn’t seem like the man was interested in fighting anymore. The ghostly tree behind him faded out of existence, and the glow of the orbiting gems dimmed considerably.

“That’s better,” the man nodded happily. He made a small movement with his hand, and the staff he was holding suddenly disappeared into thin air. “My approach was a little rude, but I can’t just leave my precious Iris to just anyone. I had to test your skill and character. Surely you understand?”

“No, I really don’t,” Marcus told him. “Who are you and why would you want to hand over your daughter to a stranger?”

“I am Shamshir, a duke of the Fire Orchid Kingdom,” the man said. He paused for a second, clearly expecting some kind of reaction from Marcus based on the name.

“Never heard of it,” Marcus told him.

“No, of course not…” the man mumbled to himself. “Nevertheless! Iris is not my daughter, though I do care for her as if she were my own kin. Alas, due to certain misunderstandings, I am being actively hunted by some very dangerous people and cannot afford to keep her around.”

“And you thought the best option was to hand her off to me?” Marcus asked. “Why?”

“She needs a wood element foundation technique to bring out her full potential, but there is a strange lack of wood element traditions on this planet,” Shamshir said, frowning. “I don’t understand – the element of wood is extremely common in the universe, and there is no shortage of wood logos around us. Why would the local wood traditions be this rare?”

Marcus said nothing.

“You’re arguably the only option I have,” Shamshir said, shaking his head. “Everyone else is simply too weak for me to entrust her to them. So please do a favor for this old man and take care of her for a while, will you? She’s a good child, and very talented. I doubt you’ll find a more suitable student no matter where you look.”

Marcus looked at the man more closely. He didn’t look that old to Marcus. Shamshir appeared to be in his thirties, with smooth skin and shiny black hair with no hint of white. Looks could be deceiving among adepts, but anyone who disguised themselves to look younger than they really were would not mention their age so casually.

Plus, there was the fact that Shamshir was strongly implying he wasn’t from Tasloa…

“Where do you and your not-daughter really come from?” Marcus asked. “Are you from another planet, or from the Outer Planes?”

The man smiled at him mysteriously.

“It’s best that you know as little as possible,” he told Marcus. “This is already painting something of a target on your back.”

“You’re really not making this any more appealing,” Marcus told him.

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“Then how about this: I am a rank eight mage and I will be eternally in your debt if you do this for me,” Shamshir said.

Gods… Marcus could tell that the man in front of him was powerful, but if he was really a rank eight mage, then he was one of a handful of the most powerful people on the planet. These kind of adepts were little more than myth and legend in modern times. As far as Marcus knew, there wasn’t a single rank eight mage in the entire Silver League.

Of course, it was easy for Shamshir to say he was a rank eight mage, and difficult for Marcus to check if there was any truth to that. Unlike spirit manifestation mages, oversoul mages did not have any obvious tells.

Before he could say anything, a pair of Great Sea Academy spirit adepts – a mage and a warrior, flew over and landed on the ruined street some distance away. Marcus gave them a hand sign, signaling them to stay away from now, but when he turned to Shamshir again he found the man rapidly turning into flame and dissipating into the surrounding air.

“We have a deal, then,” Shamshir’s rapidly fading voice said. “I’ll bring her over when things calm down a little.”

The last thing to remain of Shamshir was his toothy grin, which was the last thing to turn into flames and disperse.

And then Marcus was left alone in the ruined street. He looked around, checking the devastation around him. He didn’t see any evidence that they had killed anyone, mostly because everyone had vacated the area as quickly as possible, but the damage to the surrounding buildings was… more serious than he had thought.

He glanced at the two spirit adepts watching him in the distance. They looked rather impatient and annoyed, and it would be up to Marcus to explain what happened here.

This was so unfair. And he also had to find his students, too. They were nowhere to be seen, and while he could sense through his soul connection with them that they were alive and well, he would still feel better if he knew exactly where they were and what they were doing.

He put away his combat staff back into his storage bracelet and picked up his usual simple one from where he threw it away. Then, steeling himself with a big breath, he started walking towards the two adepts giving him expectant looks.

This was going to be difficult to explain.

* * * *

Marcus had thought that everything he and Shamshir had said to each other would have been overheard by Great Sea Academy adepts observing the fight from the distance. After all, they might have been too weak to get involved in the fighting, but that wouldn’t stop their listening in on them. Many adepts had enhanced senses, and there were spells to amplify that further. However, it turned out that at some point during their fight, Shamshir had erected a privacy field around them without Marcus ever having realized something was amiss. Nobody could hear anything, and even their appearance had been blurry and indistinct. That meant that the last thing anyone had heard was the man accusing Marcus of having a daughter he had to take care of.

That was a mixed bag. On one hand, that meant Marcus did not need to address Shamshir’s strange statements in any way, and was basically free to say whatever he deemed appropriate to the Great Sea’s spirit adepts investigating the matter. On the other hand, said spirit adepts seemed to take Shamshir’s claim that Iris was Marcus’s daughter at face value, and kept referring to the incident as a ‘paternity dispute’.

As for Iris, his supposed elven daughter, she was nowhere to be found. After she had fled the scene of confrontation, her trail had immediately gone cold and the Great Sea adepts admitted they had no idea where she had gone.

Was she also just an avatar? Very curious.

In any case, Marcus kept his suspicion that the man was not a native of Tasloa to himself, but explained practically everything else. Even the fact the man had claimed to be a rank eight mage, which the two adepts didn’t take very seriously at all.

“We get a few of these every year,” Valerius, one of the two adepts, said languidly. “Surprised he didn’t claim he was a ninth rank mage instead. Might as well go all the way if you’re already being ridiculous.”

They let him go. Although his fight had caused great devastation, there were plenty of eyewitnesses to confirm he hadn’t started things, and that it was the other man who first started the conflict by throwing a fireball into a crowded area. Plus, he was an outsider, unlike Marcus.

Marcus immediately set off in search of his students, though he didn’t have to look very far. Though they had fled from the fighting after his spell had carried them off into the distance, they had been reluctant to go too far. They immediately crowded around him when he walked up to them, bombarding him with questions and complaining about the bruises they’d gotten by landing awkwardly on the road stones after he had hurled them away from the fight.

Marcus was glad to see they were all fine. He was less glad about who was keeping them company.

“Mister Agrippa was kind enough to keep us company while you were fighting,” Julia told him, pointing at the smiling man next to them. “He says you are friends.”

They didn’t seem to have any idea whom they had been speaking with.

“Hello, Gaius,” Marcus said, giving the man a polite, but guarded look. He seemed to be alone at the moment, which was unusual.

“Hello, old friend,” Gaius said, nodding at him slightly. “I got here as fast as possible when I realized there were two spirit-rank mages fighting in the city, but I only caught the tail-end of the fight. I was so surprised to see you involved… it’s quite unlike you.”

That sounded like sarcasm to Marcus.

“Well, you know. I can’t really stand aside when someone starts throwing area of effect spells in the direction of my students,” Marcus told him. “Thank you for keeping them safe.”

“It was nothing, really,” Gaius said, waving his hand dismissively. “I hope you don’t mind, but I answered some of their questions about you. I’m surprised you’ve told them so little about you in all this time… I know you don’t like to brag, but you were keeping things a little too close to your chest, in my opinion.”

“I… We had no idea you were some famous general,” Livia told him.

“Yeah, we thought you were just some minor elder or something,” Volesus added.

“There is no such thing as a ‘minor elder’,” Marcus told him. In theory at least, they were all equal in status and had the same voting power. Though things were not quite so simple in practice. “Anyway, since we’re talking about keeping things too close to your chest, did Gaius inform you that he’s not some random friend of mine but instead the Consul of the Great Sea Academy? That is, the current leader of us all?”

They all immediately turned towards the smiling, friendly-seeming man in shock, and then collectively took a step back as if faced with a poisonous viper. A proper reaction to Gaius, if one asked Marcus.

In case, Gaius just laughed at the reaction.

“You got me!” he told Marcus, though his eyes remained fixed on his shocked students. “I was indeed avoiding mentioning that. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who doesn’t know who I am every once in a while… you’ve gathered an interesting bunch, I must say.”

They separated not long after that, Marcus leading his students away while continually replaying his last battle and conversation with the strange outworlder who called himself Shamshir.

“So,” Marcus asked his students when they put some distance between them and Gaius. “What did you and Gaius talk about?”

They shared a hesitant look between each other. Eventually, Julia cleared her throat slightly and began to speak.

“Mister Agrippa, I mean… Consul Agrippa, he told us about your role in the war against Veldoran, how you lost against him in the academy’s Young Talent Competition,” Marcus grumbled at that internally, though he managed to keep his face blank in reality. “He also told us about Great Sea Academy’s most important vassals, how the selection process for new students works, and the reason why you don’t want to stay here on the main island.”

“Oh?” Marcus asked curiously. This should be good. “Why do I refuse to stay here?”

“Err…”

Julia seemed to struggle answering that question.

“That Agrippa guy basically said some people aren’t happy you’re accepting a bunch of irrelevant orphans as your students,” Cassia told him. “That you don’t think we can handle being here.”

Yes, people like Gaius. Did this guy have no shame?

Actually, why was he even asking that…

“W-Well, he didn’t really say it like that,” Julia protested.

“What, are you unhappy about being lumped in with us peasants?” Cassia mocked.

“Now you’re just provoking me!” Julia complained. She turned towards Marcus. “Anyway, that’s about it, really. We didn’t have that much time before you found us. He seemed to have a really high opinion of you.”

“You should be more careful around him in the future,” Marcus told her. “He might seem friendly, but he’s still the current leader of the Great Sea Academy and he has his own goals and motives. He can close many doors for you if you say the wrong thing around him.”

“Or open them,” opined Volesus.

Marcus strongly considered smacking him in the head with his staff.

“You’re too young to play politics,” he told him. “Focus on your training instead.”

“Um, teacher? About that girl from earlier…” Claudia suddenly spoke up. “That man who attacked us said she was your-“

“She’s not my daughter,” Marcus cut her off.

“But-“

“That guy is just your bog-standard scammer,” Marcus insisted. “I bet he tries that trick on every wealthy-looking passerby he encounters.”

Claudia pouted at him slightly, and seemed to judge him silently with her eyes. His other students also didn’t seem terribly convinced by his argument, either.

However, they didn’t say anything more on the matter, and Marcus was not interested in talking about the subject any further.

* * * *

Over the next two days, Marcus led his students on a tour across Adria, showing them various curiosities, like the flying beasts held in stables across the city and the famous Adria open theater, where mage actors used illusions and other spells to bring stories to life in a manner most people never experienced. He also bought all of them a set of fancier robes, so they would look more presentable at the upcoming judging ceremony. They wouldn’t be competing there, of course, but they would be present, and everyone would know who they were.

One night, after his students had gone to sleep, Marcus decided to summon Celer.

The large white butterfly immediately materialized in a puff of white smoke in front of him, staring at him with her big compound eyes.

“I’m here!” she exclaimed. “Oh, we’re in Adria! The ambient mana here is so rich and sweet… I could never mistake it for something else.”

Marcus didn’t know what she was talking about. He didn’t perceive any difference between ambient mana in Adria and that of, say, Crystal Mountain. Both of them were areas with very abundant ambient mana, yes, but it all really felt the same to him, really.

She flew several quick circles around the room and then settled back down in front of him.

“So? What’s the occasion?” she asked.

“I will be choosing my final batch of students soon, so I wanted to keep you informed. You said you had some kind of surprise for them,” he told her.

“Ah! You haven’t forgotten!” she said. “You sure took your time. I was going to come over with my own power and scold you if you hadn’t done this soon. Do you think the eggs can wait forever!?”

She flapped her wings, blowing some irritating dust straight at his face. He was expecting as much, so he managed to dodge most of the dust cloud… but not its entirety.

“Wait,” he said, coughing. “Eggs?”

“Err, well… ah, forget it,” Celer said, fumbling slightly with her response. “I hoped to keep it a surprise for a little longer, but maybe it’s better this way. Yes, I laid a fresh batch of eggs recently, and have been keeping them in stasis until I heard back from you. I guess I can now finally let the caterpillars hatch and fatten up a little before I hand them over to your students.”

Marcus didn’t know what to say to that.

“Do you think they’ll like the gift?” Celer asked excitedly.

Marcus’s mind drifted back to Claudia’s horrified scream when she saw the giant centipede back at the tower. He didn’t think she liked bugs very much.

“Mmmmaybe,” he told Celer.

“I bet they will,” Celer said. “Everyone loves babies.”

“Are you sure this a good idea?” Marcus asked her. “I like my students, but I’m not sure your babies will be safe in their hands.”

“Oh Marcus, haven’t you ever read about fairy butterfly reproduction?” Celer asked him, her tone of voice suggesting he had just asked something completely stupid.

“No?” Marcus said, confused. Why would he ever read up on something like that? Were there even books discussing that kind of topic available in the Silver League? “I can’t say that information ever came up in my reading.”

“Butterflies can lay up to hundreds, even thousands of eggs during their lifetime,” Celer said. “Fairy butterflies like me are a bit less fecund, but still. And though you might think less of me for admitting this, but we aren’t exactly attentive parents. Most of my caterpillars will never make it to adulthood, and I have always been fine with that.”

Marcus looked at Celer with newfound understanding.

“So you just abandon your babies to fend for themselves immediately after hatching?” Marcus asked. Celer shook her wings in an affirmative gesture. “The life of a fairy butterfly is surprisingly brutal.”

“I don’t abandon them immediately-immediately, but after watching over them for a day or two to make sure they’re eating properly, I leave them to their own devices,” Celer said. “It’s okay. My mother did the same thing to me. It’s how we normally do things.”

“But now you want to give them away to my students,” Marcus said. “Surely that isn’t what your kind usually does.”

“No, but this is better!” Celer told him excitedly. “Come closer, come closer… I’ll tell you a secret.”

Marcus leaned forward, humoring her antics. “I’m listening.”

“I… am only a lesser fairy butterfly,” she said dramatically.

Marcus stared at her.

“I know,” he finally said.

He thought she would try to blast him with a cloud of irritating powder again, but she defied his expectations and controlled herself.

In any case, of course he knew. Back when Marcus was trying to make a summoning contract with one of the spirit clans in the outer planes, he had tried to call many different beasts. Alas, not only did he not attract the attention of something cool like a celestial tiger or a hellfire drake, he couldn’t even get one of the greater fairy butterflies to respond! Only humble little Celer was interested in responding to a summoning from a nameless mage hailing from a minor material world.

That said, he did not regret making a contract with her, and things had worked out pretty well for him in the end. Who needs a mighty tiger or a drake when you can have a chatty, mercurial butterfly that can put people to sleep with one beat of her wings?

“You jerk. You could at least pretend not to know,” Celer told him. “But anyway, did you ever wonder what makes a greater butterfly fairy greater, and why I’m not one?”

“I did, but I always figured it was just a matter of bloodlines,” Marcus admitted.

From what he understood, bloodlines were incredibly important to spirit animal clans. Spirit animals passively grew in power as they aged, with no need to practice any foundational techniques, so there was rarely much difference in power between adults of the same species unless one had some kind of exalted bloodline that set them apart from their fellows.

“A good guess usually, but my kind works a little differently,” Celer said. “There are two ways for a fairy caterpillar to become an adult. The first, and most common, is to simply grow up alone in the Dreamwood, growing fat on whatever vegetation they can find, avoid dying, and eventually emerge from the chrysalis as a lesser fairy butterfly. The second is to form a familiar contract for a mortal adept and keep it unbroken until they achieve spirit-rank. If the caterpillar forms a chrysalis and transforms just as the adept condenses their logos core into a spirit, both of them will reap incredible benefits, and the caterpillar will emerge as a newly-born greater fairy butterfly!”

She posed dramatically in front of him, wings outstretched, her front legs wiggling in the air in what was likely supposed to be hand gestures.

“Isn’t that amazing!?” she demanded. “Imagine. I could have sired a batch of actual nobles!”

“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” Marcus told her. “My students becoming spirit-rank adepts is not guaranteed in any way, even with me teaching them. You’re not guaranteed to get even one noble offspring, nevermind a whole clutch. But putting that aside, I’m curious. What does the human adept get out of this? What is this ‘incredible benefit’ they gain from babying one of your caterpillars all the way to spirit rank?”

“I don’t know,” Celer admitted. “But my elders all agree that the adept benefits a lot too, so it’s probably true. And even if they’re full of it, the human still gets a greater butterfly fairy as their personal summon. That’s a pretty good reward, no?”

She did have a point there, Marcus had to admit.

“Alright, I’ll go along with this,” Marcus told her.

“Great! I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” Celer said. “I’ll go prepare everything for the big reveal.”

“Wait!” Marcus said. “Before you go… did you ever hear about a Fire Orchid Kingdom?”

“Hmm… huuuh…” Celer thought about it loudly for several moments. “Nope, never heard of it. I’ve heard about the Blue Orchid Kingdom, and the Night Orchid Kingdom, but never about one that’s a fire. Why do you ask?”

Marcus explained to her what had happened recently and his conversation with Shamshir.

“I’ll ask around and see if the other butterflies know something,” Celer told him. “Though I wouldn’t hold my breath. That sounds like a place somewhere on the material plane. There is no way an eighth rank mage is a ruler of anything in the outer Planes, let alone a duke. But who knows, maybe it’s just a meaningless title or something!”

With that, Celer disappeared in a puff of smoke.

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