The remaining wind sprites, sensing peril, ceased emerging from the mountains. Those still outside were wholly devoured by the barrier’s pull.

  The long-haired mage snapped the barrier shut, and a massive oil painting—nearly two meters long—materialized in his hand. Within its vividly rendered world, countless wind sprites were frozen mid-struggle, sealed forever in pigment and canvas.

  He burst into triumphant laughter, a single golden tooth gleaming between his lips.

  “Da'off, my thanks—truly, forgive me for not greeting you first. But I desperately needed a large number of wind sprites for materials. With weather like this, I hurried here at once. You don’t mind, do you?”

  He smiled as he spoke, though not a trace of real apology appeared on his face; Da'off’s feelings seemed beneath his notice.

  “Prince Morogen, the sprites are nothing—but you swept innocent civilians into that painting as well. Release them,” Da'off replied. A fifth-tier mage he might be, yet even he dared not show disrespect; the difference in rank and authority was absolute.

  The man before him was a sixth-tier mage—elevated by royal resources, yes, but his talent rivaled Da'off’s own.

  Meiko drifted in from the outskirts to stand beside her husband. At the sight of Morogen, her brows tightened, and she shot Da'off a questioning look.

  He answered with a subtle gesture of restraint.

  Morogen waved his hand lightly, still smiling. “No, no—if I open the painted world again, everything inside will escape. A few commoners—gone is gone. Why fret over them? Da'off, you’re far too soft. Hahaha…”

  He turned to leave.

  “You had better release them. Otherwise, I’ll take your life here and now.”

  The cold voice cut through the air like a blade, arresting Morogen mid-step.

  He looked down at the apprentice who dared address him with such insolence.

  “Da'off, how did you raise such an ill-mannered student? He’s useless. Let me kill him for you.”

  With a casual flick, Morogen hurled a black sphere at Glenn.

  “Stop!” Da'off and Meiko thundered in unison, casting a teleportation spell that whisked the sphere away.

  They were not worried for Glenn—the attack could not truly harm him—but feared the consequences if the two clashed outright.

  Though the blow never landed, Glenn had already passed judgment. Morogen had earned a sentence of death.

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  Boom!

  A vast cloud of black smoke erupted from where Glenn stood, rolling outward and drowning the nearby trees and flowers. The curse within it was so potent that even the three high-tier mages felt a chill in their bones.

  “A werewolf? And one this strong?! Da'off—don’t tell me you’re the teacher of that seventh-tier werewolf from the demon invasion! The kingdom will punish you for this!”

  Morogen, aware of the recent uproar over the appearance of a seventh-tier werewolf, guessed Glenn’s identity at once.

  Before Da'off could respond, he flung the oil painting aside and fled with the fastest flight spell he possessed. Survival came first—everything else could be reclaimed later.

  But Glenn had no intention of letting him escape.

  A streak of shadow, wreathed in rolling curse-smoke, tore through the air and overtook the fleeing prince. The air split with a sharp crack.

  Sensing mortal danger, the sixth-tier mage reacted instantly, completing a spell in a single breath.

  Just as Glenn’s claw was about to close around him, Morogen exploded into a swarm of flies—an escape technique not unlike that of the short dark mage Glenn had once encountered, though far more refined. The flies scattered with astonishing speed, impossible to track.

  But Glenn had the perfect counter.

  He opened his jaws and released a deluge of curse-smoke. Within moments, a hundred-meter radius sank into absolute darkness.

  The flies were swift—but not swifter than the spreading smoke.

  Blinded, Morogen panicked. But his terror had only begun.

  Perhaps because Glenn could freely command the wolf-venom within him, the curse-smoke answered his will like an extension of his limbs. Its destructive force should have torn apart everything it touched, yet every leaf and blade of grass remained unharmed. Only Glenn’s chosen prey suffered.

  Morogen felt the dreadful curse gnaw into his flesh, a torment beyond endurance. Forced from his dispersed form, he condensed into his human shape and hastily raised defensive wards.

  Exactly what Glenn wanted.

  Two baleful lights flared in the darkness—Glenn’s eyes, gleaming inches from Morogen’s face.

  “No! If you harm me, the high council of the Zen Kingdom will tear you to pieces—!”

  His threat dissolved into the void.

  A steel claw ripped through his high-tier ward as though it were paper, seizing him. The sheer disparity in power stifled the flow of magic within his body.

  A sickening crack of grinding bones echoed. Morogen screamed.

  As he opened his mouth, torrents of curse-smoke surged into him—through his lips, his nostrils, his eyes, his ears.

  The agony that followed was beyond mortal limits. The curse ravaged even his soul.

  Within moments, his body shriveled like drained leather, thick black ichor seeping from every orifice—a grotesque and pitiful end.

  Outside the swirling dark, Da'off and Meiko circled anxiously. They knew Glenn had resolved to kill; the prince’s fate was already sealed.

  Now Da'off’s worry was not whether Morogen lived—only how to avoid the consequences.

  The smoke thinned, then dissipated entirely.

  Glenn stood before the desiccated corpse, black sludge pooling at his feet.

  Da'off and Meiko landed beside him.

  “We must erase all traces,” Da'off said quietly. “Though Prince Morogen was of the royal line, he often vanished for long periods to pursue his studies. Few knew his whereabouts. It should be possible to conceal this for quite some time.”

  Glenn turned, apologetic. “Teacher, madam—I’m sorry to have dragged you into this. If any danger comes later, place the blame on me. That man was vile. Killing him was necessary.”

  Da'off waved the apology aside. “You are my student. I would never betray you. I will see everything settled.”

  “No, teacher,” Glenn said, solemn. “Think of Lucas and the others you must protect. Put the responsibility on me. I can withstand it. That isn’t betrayal—it is the wiser choice.”

  “Enough, we can discuss this later. For now, we must clear the scene,” Meiko interjected, noting the strain on Da'off’s expression and deftly shifting the subject.”