Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe-Chapter 885: Common Sense

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.

Chapter 885: Common Sense

The following day, Adam found himself standing before a full-body mirror with a helpless expression on his face.

There were several maids around him, helping him don his black armor.

On one side, the Captain of the Black Legion, Raidon, was glancing at him with an awkward look on his face.

"My Lord... do you really not wish to wear the armor?" He asked.

Adam turned to look at him and made an ugly face. "Do I look like I want to?"

He shook his head in exasperation. "I’ve never worn armor in my life. My enchanted Magus robes work just fine. Besides..."

He lowered his head, glancing at the heavy breastplate, and grumbled, "It’s too heavy to be used on the battlefield. Sure, it’ll boost your defence, but what about your speed? Speed is equally important on the battlefield."

"Shuh now, child!" Professor Mathilda Whitaker lightly reprimanded him. "You need to only wear the armor for a few hours. Don’t complain now."

"...Fine." Adam pursed his lips, turning his gaze back towards his reflection in the mirror.

Suddenly, he thought of something and asked seemingly casually.

"By the way, Professor, where’s Autumn?"

"Ah, she’s gone to spend the summer with her parents," the elder woman replied with a faint smile.

"She truly wanted to see the Grand Magus Tournament," she added. "And more than that, to meet you. But her father sent a letter, saying that she was going to have a baby brother soon, and Autumn did not want to miss that."

Adam let out a light chuckle, "A tough choice for someone so young."

But inwardly, he was greatly relieved. Who knew what would happen in Ravenfell during the Grand Magus Tournament? It was much better for the little girl to stay away from it.

Suddenly, he frowned ever so slightly.

Autumn had longed to witness the tournament for years... ever since she first learned of it, he wondered.

But just as it was about to begin, a letter arrived from her father: her mother was expecting a child.

And so, she left Ravenfell mere weeks before calamity was about to strike.

What a strange coincidence...

Professor Whitaker’s words snapped him out of his thoughts.

"All you have to do is enter through the western gates and move through Corvet Boulevard until you arrive at Council Keep," she said.

"You’ll be accompanied by Raidon and your men from the Black Legion. Keep in mind, Adam, there will be tens of thousands of people gathered on both sides of the boulevard, so try and smile a little, okay?"

"...What?" Adam’s lips twitched. "Tens of thousands of people? Why would there be so many? And I have to smile at them?"

Raidon let out a light chuckle. "My Lord, tens of thousands is just the minimum estimate. You should expect to see numbers in the six digits.

"You’ve been away from Ravenfell for over a year now, so you may not know this... but the residents of the city have almost grown fanatical about you."

Adam turned to him and blinked.

"Are you being serious?"

Raidon nodded, answering matter-of-factly, "Very much so, my lord."

"And this goes without saying, but you need to be on your best behavior," Professor Whitaker said with narrowed eyes. "And I better not see that wine gourd hanging by your waist."

Adam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. "Professor... I have that much common sense, at least."

"Is that so?" Professor Whitaker shrugged. "I couldn’t tell."

Adam’s lips twitched.

Damn it, old woman! Teasing me in front of all these people, he thought helplessly.

He could already see Raidon and even the maids doing their best to prevent a chuckle from escaping their lips.

In the end, he could only helplessly sigh.

As the maids draped the gray cape over his shoulders, the elderly Professor spoke again, "It would be ideal if you could cast a spell, for show, of course. A display of your arcane prowess. As I said before, you must make a statement."

"And what about those old fogies from the other Pillars?" Adam asked with an amused look on his face. "Should I show them their place, too, Professor? Lady Benton did mention they were looking down on me."

"Adam..." Professor Whitaker gave him a stern look. "Don’t do anything that could jeopardize our relations with the other three Pillars, or with Baja.

"You must understand, you are now the face of both Saratoga and Ravenfell. From this point on, your actions will be seen as theirs."

"Ah, I get it, I get it," said the raven-haired youth with a nonchalant look on his face.

"Adam." The elderly woman’s eyes narrowed.

"Don’t worry, Professor." Adam grinned. "I’ll put on a spectacular show."

Inwardly, he continued, Those fools will think twice before doubting my skills.

His eyes flashed with a peculiar light, and he thought, And I also have to see how many rats are hiding in the crowd.

So this is something I must do!

The maids had finally helped him don the full body armor. They gave a respectful bow and soon left the room, leaving behind only Raidon and Professor Whitaker standing beside Adam.

The raven-haired youth took a step forward and admired his reflection in the mirror.

His armor was a masterwork of arcane craftsmanship, forged from an obsidian black alloy that shimmered faintly under the light, as if shadows themselves clung onto its surface.

Each plate was carved with delicate, almost imperceptible runes. The pauldrons were broad, angular, and adorned with silver inlays, giving him a commanding presence.

His gauntlets were clawed and precise, built for both casting and combat, while his boots thudded with the weight of unshakeable purpose.

Draped over his shoulders was a high-collared gray cape, clasped by a pair of brooches bearing the insignia of Saratoga and Ravenfell, respectively.

This armor set was a Rank 3 Artifact gifted to him by the Lord Marshall of Ravenfell, Sabrina Benton.

It was built for war. It was built for magic.

In that armor, Adam looked less like a man and more like a living myth.

"I like it!" the youth grinned.

He waved his hand and conjured his black, pointy hat. But before he could place it on his head, the elderly woman snatched it from his hand.

"Professor!" Adam called out, exasperated.

The old lady wagged her finger with gentle firmness. "No, dear boy. Not today. The people need to see your face. This hat hides it, and we can’t have that. So, no."

"But, this is my trademark—" Adam protested.

Professor Whitaker shot him a stern look again. "You can wear it after your homecoming parade."

Adam’s lips opened and then closed.

In the end, he reluctantly nodded.

"...Fine."

Professor Whitaker’s lips curled into a warm smile. She placed her hand on Adam’s shoulder and softly said, "Thank you for understanding, child."

Adam offered a gentle smile. "Of course, Professor."

"Very well, then." The elderly woman turned around and headed outside. "Your men are waiting for you."

The three exited the building and arrived before an open field where dozens of Magi from the Black Legion were standing in orderly rows.

Raidon stepped forward and roared at the top of his lungs, "Men! Greet your Lord Commander!"

The armored warriors of the Black Legion thumped their chestplates with fervor, the resounding clangs echoing through every street and alley of Jeeling.

"OOH-AAH!"

"OOH-AAH!"

"OOH-AAH!"

"OOH-AAH!"

Adam raised his hand, and at once, silence fell over his ranks. His sharp gaze swept across each of his men, pride gleaming in his dark eyes.

Then, with a bold grin, he called out:

"Onward to Ravenfell!"