Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 894: Better company

Noah weaved through the thronging masses. It had been several minutes since his rather dramatic display. He'd definitely overheard his name spoken multiple times within the surrounding chatter, but attention spans were fleeting. This was a major tournament, after all. The bizarre actions of one, possibly unhinged, individual wouldn't hold center stage for long. He was reasonably sure a handful of people were still discussing it, and with a bit of luck, the tale would continue to circulate in the coming days. It needed to reach Moxie's ears, and those of his students. All of them. However, he'd need to ensure he could actually locate everyone once the tournament concluded. If he got apprehended and forced into some blasted individual's entourage, no one would be able to regroup with him.

He snatched a beverage from a passing refreshment tray. At this relatively early stage of the evening, a significant number of the mages present had ceased bothering to fully conceal their identities. Several had removed or set aside their masks to facilitate eating and drinking.

Even so, discerning any particular individual remained challenging. Most attendees sported hoods that obscured the majority of their visages, even while they were partaking in refreshments.

Noah harbored no intention of removing his own mask. At present, anyone seeking him would be looking for his costume. The ability to shed it, should the circumstances necessitate, would be incredibly advantageous. Regrettably, such an option was not presently available.

For the second time this evening, a silent curse echoed in his mind. Failing to bring a spare change of clothes had been a substantial oversight. Then again, he hadn't anticipated conjuring a colossal formation. The original plan had simply been to perform a pleasant melody and spark some conversation.

Ironically, he remained uncertain whether his presumption of being the sole musician in Obsidia or his initial intention to adopt a more modest approach and avoid ostentatious displays had generated more complications. He supposed it mattered little at this juncture.

There were still individuals within the crowd following him. He was quite certain of it. At intermittent intervals, he'd catch a fleeting glimpse of someone adorned with a tiger mask somewhere behind him. They didn't appear to be in any particular rush... which likely indicated either exceptional eyesight or some method of tracking him.

Noah lowered his gaze to his drink. It was highly probable that his most effective strategy for evading an exceedingly tiresome conversation would be to seamlessly integrate himself into an existing one and become lost within it. It would be simpler to decline requests for discussion if he was already engaged with someone.

Vivian found herself exerting considerable effort to refrain from unleashing destructive energy upon a significant portion of her own hall. She struggled to recall the last occasion she had been this incensed. Her robes were drenched in beer. The diminutive miscreant who had, by some inexplicable means, collided with her—at least, according to his frantic excuses and apologies—had departed without sustaining even the slightest injury.

She remained perplexed as to how he had managed this feat. At some point during the process where he had been dabbing at her with a procured napkin, uttering profuse and repeated apologies with sufficient volume to attract the attention of everyone in their immediate vicinity, all while flitting around her like an anxious parent dispatching their child to a tutor for the first time, he had vanished into the throng.

Vivian possessed the capability to track him. She could have subdued him with the mere force of her runes for the audacity of spilling his drink upon her. She was convinced it had not been accidental. At least... she had been convinced. Now, she was no longer entirely certain.

Her focus had been divided, her mind preoccupied with other matters. A faint possibility existed that it was entirely an accident that merely appeared egregious. Furthermore, with everyone observing her, she couldn't afford to erupt in fury. The fool who had splashed her had drawn far too much attention.

She was under observation. Even if she had been inclined towards vindictiveness and desired to pursue the scoundrel, it would not have been worth the expenditure of time or energy. She would have to let him escape. Vivian likely could have located him later via the imprint of his soul. However, that was excessively petty and demanded far too much effort for an incident that might not even have been intentional. As much as she loathed to admit it... she had to release him. It irked her immensely that the mage would never even know the identity of the person he had so brazenly slighted.

This was the rationalization she would have to adopt, for her own peace of mind as much as for any other reason. Unfortunately, it offered little solace.

Amidst the pandemonium, she had completely lost the faint trace of the Beyond. Her tormentor had once again slipped away. Vivian's jaw clenched with such intensity that she felt capable of grinding solid steel into dust. This entire masquerade felt as though it were disintegrating into flames around her.

Her hunt for the user from Beyond had resulted in her losing track of the other Faction Heads. While this likely meant they had missed the embarrassing exchange, she now found herself as the sole Faction Head with little to no clue about what the others were engaged in… and it was, as a matter of fact, her own party.

And, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, people were fixated on her.

That was the absolute last thing she required. There was no possibility of her discreetly navigating the party and keeping an eye out for anything of interest — let alone the aggravating individual she had been pursuing — if everyone was gossiping about and gawking at her.

However, if she were to vanish or take flight, it would be immediately apparent that she was not merely a participant in the masquerade. No one was permitted to depart until the formalities concluded. Adherence to one's own regulations constituted the primary aspect of leadership. Even if only a select few in the throng noticed her departure… employing her magic would almost certainly alert the other Faction Heads.

Vivian suppressed an urge to curse. She then moved purposefully into the crowd, endeavoring to disregard the clammy sensation of her attire, and set a course towards the refreshment tables at the hall's periphery. She would have to wait until her clothes were dry at the very least. That would afford her a moment to collect her thoughts.

Vivian identified an unoccupied table situated along one of the walls, distanced from the bulk of the attendees. Nearly every other table was occupied by at least one mage. A small platter laden with food and beverages was placed upon it. She proceeded directly towards the table.

A petite mage suddenly emerged from the throng directly ahead, passing so close to Vivian that only her magically enhanced reflexes prevented a collision. She halted abruptly, mere instants before crashing into them.

“My apologies!” the mage exclaimed, her voice suggesting a young woman. “I did not intend to impede your path! I was not paying attention to my direction. I ought to have been more mindful.”

“It is quite alright,” Vivian responded curtly. “Simply exercise greater caution regarding your path, would you?”

“Indeed. Indeed. Naturally.” The mage nodded rapidly. She then adjusted the blue-painted ceramic mask adorning her face. “Enjoy the remainder of the festivities!”

Following this, she disappeared back into the crowd.

Vivian simply shook her head. She directed her gaze back towards the table.

Then, her eye gave a distinct twitch.

It had been claimed.

Vivian’s fingers twitched involuntarily at her sides. She surveyed the other tables, but every single one within her line of sight was occupied. Most featured small gatherings. The mere thought of re-entering the central masquerade area at this juncture made her feel an urge to impact her skull against a solid surface.

Her attention settled upon one of the smaller tables where a solitary man was seated, a drink positioned untouched before him as his gaze meticulously scanned the crowd, evidently searching for something. While others engaged in conversation, he could not have appeared more detached had he deliberately attempted to do so. The black robes enveloping his form, intricately decorated with gossamer silver threads arranged in a spiderweb pattern, complemented by a matching mask, did not contribute to an aura of approachability.

Vivian proceeded with purpose towards the table. She offered no verbal greeting. Instead, she simply pulled out the chair opposite the man and took a seat.

He briefly glanced in her direction.

She remained silent.

He mirrored her silence.

For close to a minute, the two individuals remained seated in quietude.

Then, Vivian gestured towards the untouched beverage.

“Might I—”

“Help yourself,” the man interjected. “Frankly, I’m uncertain why I even procured it. I am not thirsty. Just grant me a single favor in return.”

“That would be contingent upon the nature of the request,” Vivian replied, her tone tinged with weariness.

“Should anyone approach us with the apparent intention of soliciting sales or attempting recruitment, fix them with a glare until they depart. I possess no interest in whatever worthless propositions they intend to waste my time with.”

Vivian smirked, concealed behind her mask. The man’s voice conveyed an unmistakable sense of being utterly fed up. Based on a cursory assessment of his cultivation aura, he appeared to be somewhere around the sixth rank. Yet, despite the vast disparity in their powers… she couldn't help but perceive a faint semblance of shared understanding towards the exhaustion evident in his words.

No one would have dared address her in such a manner had they been aware of her true identity. It was, in fact, somewhat liberating. Particularly considering the entirety of the preceding absurdity that had transpired right at the evening's commencement. This presented a welcome alteration of pace.

“Agreed,” Vivian stated.