Magic Life in the Empire-Chapter 115: Pranks

This reminded Cyril of how he celebrated the competition results at that restaurant.

Back then Edmund bought an expensive alcohol enhanced with magic, and its taste was quite good.

It was very strong too... It even worked on you. Cyril thought with amusement.

"Yes. That was very shameful. Alcohol is indeed an evil thing." Rhamn shook her head.

Even if Morpho appeared because of it? Cyril thought with a raised brow.

The butterfly on his shoulder was also drinking juice nearby, though from a tray.

"It's true that it was a happy accident." After saying this, Rhamn frowned.

"But at the same time, I unintentionally caused pain to you back then. And that's something inexcusable. I am sorry for that." Her face was fully solemn, taking this very seriously.

That's in the past. Don't worry about it. Cyril placated her. He really didn't mind what happened back then. It even led to a better world.

Suppose he never went there with his friends or tasted Magnolia; then none of the magic creatures might have appeared.

Without that night, Cyril doubted Rhamn could've convinced him to do such a thing.

Meanwhile, the bartender shot a few concerned glances at the bar's only customer, careful not to be noticed.

This student kept sitting here staring off to the side and gesturing to himself, as if talking to someone.

Thomas only wanted to work behind the bar counter, serve new customers every day and enjoy a quiet life.

Unfortunately, not only does this place completely lack clientele, but whoever does enter through its doors always turns out to be a weirdo...

He let out an unnoticed sigh, thinking about fate's sense of humor.

...

Having finished his juice and endured enough suspicious stares from the bartender, it was finally the appointed time.

Cyril stood up from his seat after paying for his and Morpho's drinks and headed for the door to the side.

Once he entered the stone corridor, Cyril discovered that a new hidden door was opened at a certain spot.

He immediately heard some heated voices as well. Someone was arguing about equipment.

With a curious heart, Cyril approached the door without hiding.

This hidden room was a rather spacious one.

The middle of it took up two long benches placed together.

The whole room was filled with lockers on both sides.

It almost reminded Cyril of the academy's changing rooms. But here, instead of clothes, these lockers housed a wide variety of tools.

Hooks, ropes, daggers, and all sorts of crystals with unknown magic within.

All of this had to be pretty expensive, yet it was simply kept in grated lockers.

Are there spells active here?

Cyril looked around again, focusing on magic. He could feel there was something, but what exactly wasn't discernible.

The self-proclaimed mercenary group, minus one member, was currently standing huddled together near a particular locker, discussing something.

As he was staring at them, suddenly a voice called out from the side, "Cyril! You and your butterfly look to be in good health, very good!"

Somewhat startled Cyril turned around, almost throwing a punch, though managing to stop himself in time.

"You need to relax a little," Jack said, wearing an annoying grin.

I didn't even notice him sitting in invisibility here...

Earlier he only managed to detect some kind of spell on the lockers, not a human waiting in ambush.

What about Morpho?

"She felt something there but thought it was part of the room's defense spells. From now on, she'll tell us if anything similar happens in the future."

Cyril quickly composed himself and looked back at the group.

"What are they talking about?" He asked, not mentioning the prank just now.

Jack sighed with helplessness and sat down on the bench. "Katherine argues against using any expensive tools today to avoid wasting money, while Kenneth wants to be as careful as possible."

"I don't have an opinion on the matter, but Gethyn is trying to mediate, wanting to find a 'common ground'... They should be done soon" Saying this he turned back towards Cyril and smiled.

"Hey. I heard that a vampire attacked a student yesterday. Could it have been you?" Jack's smug face implied he already knew and only wished to mock.

At least that's how it appeared to Cyril. ƒreewebɳovel.com

"So what if it was? Don't worry, it won't interfere with today's plans," Cyril quickly replied, but upon seeing the unchanged smile on Jack's face, he continued with a flash of inspiration.

"But how do you know this? The knights should've hidden my identity completely. You must've investigated on your own when you heard the news, but why would you do that?" His words caused Jack to slowly lose his smile.

"Well... We have to know what's going on around our base; it's common sense, isn't it?" He replied quickly, as if defending himself.

His reaction gave Cyril more confidence in his theory, and he pressed on: "Or maybe you heard someone was hurt around the time your sister was heading home, got worried about her safety, and went to check yourself?"

Jack crossed his arms and turned back to look at his comrades. "You didn't talk so much before; how about you keep your image?" He jokingly replied.

Cyril only sneered and stopped paying attention to him, waiting for the others.

"Jack still cared; who could've thought?" Rhamn stared at the guy with contempt.

"Emily would be so glad to hear what just happened—that is, only if you decide to share it with her. I say, let her stay miserable..." Rhamn muttered, in a bad mood.

...

After a short while the argument was over, ultimately ending with Kenneth's victory, it seemed.

He walked over wearing a polite but satisfied smile; behind him trudged Gethyn and Katherine, who wore an expression that implied great frustration.

"Forgive me for the delay, Cyril." Kenneth bowed his slightly and continued, "It would be good to talk about our plans for today. How about we go to the resting room for a cup of tea?"

Finding that reasonable, Cyril nodded and got up from the bench, ready to follow them.

Gethyn and Katherine briefly greeted him, to which Cyril simply returned the greeting.

The group followed Kenneth, who seemingly had a spring to his step, towards the lounge.

With practiced movements he poured some premade tea for everyone and sat down on the sofa.

Everyone else seemed to take their familiar seats, leaving Cyril only a place at the head of the table.

He casually sat down and tasted the tea.

It was better than the drinks at the bar, at least.