Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 895: Spider

Vivian swirled the drink within her goblet, though technically, it was not hers. It belonged to the mage seated across from her, but he had offered it. With further technicality applied, it was indeed hers, as she held ownership of this entire hall and all within its confines.

Yet, with a touch of irony, despite negotiating for the right to consume what was rightfully hers, she found herself unable to drink it.

The overwhelming chaos that had unfolded had left her so disoriented that she overlooked a crucial detail: removing her mask was not a simple task. Most participants in this event had no reason to conceal their identities; they were unknown, and the sheer number of attendees made the odds of encountering someone who knew them astronomically low.

However, Vivian’s situation was vastly different. The probability of someone recognizing her was immense. It was widely known that the Faction Heads were present, lurking within the masquerade, seeking their next acquisition targets. This reality persisted despite Vivian having no intention of recruiting anyone.

Should her face be seen, she would be overwhelmed in mere moments. The predicament would worsen as news of the incident reached the other Faction Heads, prompting them to dispatch their own scouts. Her brief period of anonymity would vanish like dry grass ignited by flame.

A furtive glance fell upon the cloth-masked man seated beside her. A subtle grin played at the edges of her lips. He had not even touched his drink before handing it to her; it had merely rested on the table. From his demeanor, it seemed highly probable that he had arrived at the same realization she had.

It was rather amusing. The man had no inkling of who was sitting next to him. He was likely consumed by his own thoughts, strategizing the best approach to gain maximum advantage from the tournament, blissfully unaware that the very person whose attention he sought was positioned right beside him.

This was precisely why Vivian appreciated masquerades. At the very least, for a fleeting moment, everyone was rendered equal. All on the same plane. Well, almost.

She still knew her own standing.

Even if she had felt motivated to leave her seat, her objectives would have been challenging to achieve. Significant time had already been lost. The Faction Heads and their associates would have dispersed throughout the hall by now; even she would struggle to locate them.

“What a nuisance,” Vivian murmured, her voice low.

“Tell me about it,” the man beside her responded, emitting a sigh. “Utterly tedious, truly.”

That comment would have been rather awkward had anyone known her true identity. But as long as the mask remained in place... and as long as she refrained from revealing her magic, her peculiar companion was completely oblivious to who she was. There was truly no need for restraint, especially since she would have to don her genuine mask the moment this disguise was shed at the masquerade’s conclusion.

“You’re not particularly fond of the tournament?” Vivian inquired, gesturing towards the mingling throng. She lacked the inclination to decipher any conversations; her sole interest lay in finding one specific individual today, and she had already fumbled her chance. The information she sought would not surface through the idle gossip of some random mage.

“It’s a tournament. I’m largely indifferent,” the man replied with a slight shrug. “I suppose it serves its purpose. But all the surrounding drama is— as you aptly put it— a nuisance.”

“Oh, really?” Vivian probed. It held little consequence. The conversation should have been far beneath her, yet its sheer bluntness proved too engaging to dismiss. “What do you mean by that? I find myself agreeing, though likely for reasons distinct from your own.”

The man gestured vaguely with his hand. “All of this. The surrounding spectacle of the tournament. Everyone is scrambling to acquire something. This event is essentially a facade for numerous power plays. It’s akin to a staged performance where participants violently clash as a cover for the genuine machinations unfolding beneath the surface, wouldn’t you agree? And it’s hardly a revelation; the organizers practically declared it. The primary objective is to be recruited by a faction, implying intense competition among them for the most promising individuals.”

“Wouldn’t you consider that advantageous for you— for us?” Vivian asked, tilting her head. “Isn’t being recruited the ultimate goal?”

“I couldn’t care less about that,” the man stated dismissively, waving his hand. “I don’t recall anyone stipulating that the tournament’s sole purpose was to be chosen by another, only to dance like a puppet on their strings. It is a tournament. The essence of a tournament lies in putting on a captivating show.”

Vivian blinked, studying the man. “But that’s the essence of the tournament, isn’t it? Don’t you desire to be accepted into a Faction’s elite ranks? Gaining access to their wealth of resources, their potent magic, and the meticulously studied combinations and techniques would be invaluable, not to mention the security and augmented power it provides.”

He turned towards her. While his black mask concealed his features entirely, Vivian perceived his amusement through his posture.

“You know, I doubt true greatness has ever been achieved by acting for another’s benefit. Power is claimed by those who actively pursue it themselves. Having a teacher is undeniably beneficial; a skilled mentor serves as a guide. However, these individuals are not merely mentors. The Faction Heads are driven by self-interest, seeking to bolster their own standing by recruiting the most formidable mages available,” he stated, shrugging. “What’s the true purpose of joining such a faction? You’ll merely be exploited, consumed, and discarded. A marginal increase in power is meaningless if you lack the genuine autonomy to wield it.”

“So, what brings you here then?” Vivian inquired, her curiosity piqued. This perspective diverged entirely from her expectations of a competitor. It was, in fact, more intriguing than she had anticipated. A mage participating in not just any tournament, but one demonstrating no discernible interest in the potential rewards, was indeed an anomaly. “Surely your time could have been more productively allocated elsewhere.”

“Why am I here?” The man paused briefly before a quiet chuckle escaped him. “I suppose my purpose is to present a spectacle.”

“A spectacle?” Vivian echoed. “That’s your sole reason? That’s why you’ve entered one of Obsidia’s most prestigious tournaments?”

“What, do you never engage in activities simply for enjoyment?” the man retorted. “And what about you? Are you here hoping to be selected by one of the Faction Heads?”

“I — no. I suppose not,” Vivian conceded. A moment’s hesitation followed. “But I wouldn’t object if the opportunity arose.”

“Oh? Which one has captured your interest? To be frank, my knowledge of them is rather limited. They haven’t occupied my thoughts significantly.”

“I suppose any of them would suffice,” Vivian replied, attempting to maintain composure. While she navigated conversations effortlessly when acting as the Prophet, discussing herself in a manner that approached the third person felt excessively self-aggrandizing, even for her. “Securing affiliation with someone of that caliber offers substantial power.”

“You believe so? I would imagine they are far too occupied to provide adequate personal guidance. They’d likely allocate resources and then confine you until their services were required to assert dominance over another Faction. However, even setting that aside… I prefer to acquire power through my own efforts. True comprehension arises from practical application. One must engage directly. If success is simply handed to you with explicit instructions, essential aspects will inevitably be overlooked.”

Vivian found herself without a counterargument, at least from behind the concealment of her mask.

The man’s assertion held truth.

None of her true strength had been bestowed upon her. Even the power derived from external sources had remained dormant until she actively utilized it.

Before she could respond further, her companion emitted a sigh.

“This has been pleasant, but I believe I’ve lingered long enough — and I suspect I’ve attracted some attention. It’s time for me to depart.”

Vivian blinked. Her gaze shifted away from the table.

He was correct. A dozen individuals had converged around them. While maintaining a cautious distance, the mages were undeniably observing them. A significant factor preventing immediate action was their affiliation with disparate factions. To Vivian’s surprise, several of her own mages were among them.

“What was your name again?” Vivian inquired. “I don’t believe I caught it.”

“Spider,” the man responded.

He then vanished, melting into the throng as a cluster of mages passed by a little too closely. Vivian remained seated at the table, her untouched glass still in hand, her eyes fixed on the spot where Spider had stood moments earlier, a faint frown creasing her brow behind her mask.