The body of the Six-Ring Tower is not constructed from any known building materials. It sometimes appears as a translucent silver-blue crystal, and at other times flows like liquid, resembling a living light fog. Only the outlines of the twelve giant crystal windows at the top of the tower remain clearly discernible.

Legend has it that Master Albert resides in the quiet chamber at the top of the tower, overlooking the tidal surges of the Wizard Plane through those crystal windows.

No one spoke.

Even Morris, who was usually silent, had half his body emerging from the shadows. For the first time, there was a focal point in his hollow eye sockets—an extreme, almost greedy gaze that showed neither fear nor awe.

"Everyone."

Raymond’s voice came from up front. It wasn’t loud, but it penetrated every cabin and corridor with clarity.

This Demigod Mage had changed into a more formal Silver Hand ceremonial robe today. The pure white fabric was embroidered with complex protective runes in silver thread, and the holy silver badge at the collar reflected a cold gleam under the light of the Sky City.

"Tidy up your appearance and carry your identity badges and council invitations." His tone was calm but carried an undeniable solemnity. "In one hourglass’s time, follow me down from the ship."

The floating airship began to slowly descend.

As they passed through the first layer of the energy shield, Duke felt a very slight sensation brush past him, like being immersed in warm water. It was the scan of recognition runes, gentle yet thorough, even touching lightly on the Wizard’s Mark deep within his soul.

The Black Sail Badge in his left hand heated up slightly, then quickly returned to normal.

The airship made a stable landing on a medium-sized island’s landing pad. The island was unnamed, evidently a functional zone dedicated to receiving visitors from various regions. The architectural style was simple and efficient, dominated by shades of gray and white.

On the landing pad, three other floating airships of varying designs were already docked, each bearing different emblems of their respective forces on their hulls. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Raymond walked at the forefront, followed sequentially by Instructor Elena, along with Vera, Leon, Adrian, Samuel, Morris, and more than twenty other young Wizards from the West Coast.

Duke walked towards the rear middle of the group, with steady steps and restrained presence.

Reception personnel had long been waiting at the edge of the landing pad. They were a few Wizards dressed in uniform silver-gray attire, with spiral emblems of the Wizard Council’s direct institution on their chests.

The leader was a middle-aged Warlock with a lean face, with an aura at the Level 2 Peak. Upon seeing Raymond, he immediately strode forward, placed his right hand on his chest, and bowed in salute.

"Lord Raymond, it has been many years since our last meeting. The council has already reserved a tower in the accommodation zone for the West Coast delegation. Lord Alfred specially requested that if you have time, he hopes to meet with you tomorrow evening."

Duke, hearing this name from the side, immediately remembered.

Alfred was once the Level 5 Mage who presided over the opening of the Void Corridor and was also the former teacher of Black Hand Morgan.

Now that Alfred specifically requested to meet Raymond, it seems Alfred and Black Sail still likely have some connection, considering it was created by Alfred’s own student.

Raymond nodded slightly: "Please convey to Lord Alfred that I will attend the meeting promptly."

The middle-aged Warlock respectfully complied and was about to lead the group towards the accommodation zone when a series of orderly footsteps came from the opposite side of the landing pad.

Duke glanced sideways.

It was a group of comparable size to the West Coast delegation, approximately twenty people, disembarking in a single file line from a uniquely designed floating airship.

The airship was entirely black with sharp edges, and its surface bore almost no decorative patterns, except for a silver-gray eagle emblem and a gear cross insignia at the prow.

The Seville Empire.

Leading them was an elder clad in a dark red magic robe, with his hair and beard meticulously trimmed, a gleaming blue alchemical eye embedded in his left eye socket.

His face appeared older than Raymond’s, but his back was straight, and his steps carried a soldier’s precision rhythm.

Raymond paused his steps for a moment.

"Augustus." His tone was flat, revealing no emotion.

The elder’s alchemical eye rotated half a circle, emitting a faint mechanical friction sound.

"Raymond." His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper polishing metal. "The West Coast is quite punctual this time, aren’t you? In past years, haven’t you always delayed to the last moment?"

"Punctuality is a basic courtesy," Raymond remained unmoved. "Of course, the Seville Empire has never cared much about such trivialities."

Augustus’s mouth twitched slightly, as if sneering, or with some more complex emotion.

He did not speak further with Raymond but let his gaze sweep over the young faces in the West Coast group, lingering for a moment on a magic robe that transitioned between crimson and ocean blue, then pausing an extra half-second on the faint mark at Samuel’s brow.

Finally, his eyes fell on Vera—more precisely, on the Thorn Holy Tower badge on Vera’s robe.

"A student of Thorn Flower Dale?" he asked.

Vera bowed slightly, paying full respect: "Vera Moon Shadow from Thorn Holy Tower, at your service, Lord Augustus."

Augustus nodded without further comment.

He turned and led the young Wizards of the Seville Empire towards another reception area.

Duke noticed that in that group, there was an exceptionally young Warlock, even shorter by half a head compared to Samuel, with a youthful face yet already wearing the insignia of a Level 2 Mage.

He never once looked at anyone from the West Coast, simply following quietly at the end of the group, with his eyes downcast, like a sheathed sword.