As the crisp night air lingered in the cold, Victor moved silently through the forest. The moonlight barely pierced the dense canopy, leaving the path dim and shrouded in shadow. Only the rustle of leaves underfoot and the distant cries of nocturnal creatures broke the eerie stillness.

  Soon, he emerged into a small clearing where an old Magus in a traditional Magus robe leaned against a tree. Victor could tell from the mana fluctuation that the old Magus was in a worse condition than before, and his face had even more wrinkles, despite only a few days having passed. It was likely that the old Magus had a fight with someone other than him in that short span of time.

  Naturally, the old Magus was none other than the big fish that he was waiting for, Roland.

  Victor stopped a few steps away, standing tall in his blue ornate robe. As he approached, Roland’s eyes shot open, and his body immediately went on guard despite his weakened state. Confusion and suspicion arose in his gaze as he focused on the figure before him.

  “Who, who are you?” Roland’s voice was hoarser than ever.

  Victor didn’t answer immediately, instead observing the withered man in silence for a few moments. “You’re in bad shape,” he remarked calmly. “I assume things didn’t go well for you?”

  “I said, who are you?!” Roland gripped his amber scepter tightly and glared at Victor.

  “Perhaps this appearance is more familiar to you.” Victor took out the Mask of Impersonation from his interspatial ring and slid it on. His appearance quickly changed into a masked figure clad in black armor.

  “Y-You’re that Magus!” He gasped. “But how are you a second-sigil Elemental Adept now…” But as he said that, Roland’s lips curled into a pained, bitter smile. “It’s not like it matters now... I’m as good as dead.”

  Victor’s gaze lingered on him as he took off the mask, noting the internal wounds that ravaged Roland’s body. Signs of accelerated aging and mana depletion were there. By Victor’s estimation, the man had no more than a year to live — perhaps even just a month. He was truly one foot in the grave.

  “Not necessarily,” Victor replied in a confident tone. “If you’re willing, death doesn’t have to be your fate.”

  Roland’s eyes flickered with a glimmer of hope, only for it to fade into desperation. “Are you telling me you have a life-extension elixir?! Hah! I don’t even see this Magus academy you claim to run. Why should I trust you?”

  With a smirk, Victor took out a vial of green liquid and showed it to him, saying, “This is the Elixir of Life. It can extend your lifespan by fifty years as well as heal all your wounds.”

  Though Elixirs of Life weren’t the pinnacle of life-extending elixirs, they were highly sought after for their potency and reliability. The demand would always exceed the available products. It was a given since one of the main ingredients was a leaf from a Tree of Life, which wasn’t readily available in this world. Even a large Magus academy like the Arcane Radiance College would struggle to procure even a few.

  “Th-That’s impossible!” Roland staggered forward, his hand trembling as he reached for the elixir.

  “Hold on!” Victor raised his arm, blocking him effortlessly, and slipped the vial back into his interspatial ring. “You haven’t joined the academy yet, nor fulfilled your end of the bargain.”

  With a flick of his finger, Victor retrieved a glowing parchment from his interspatial ring — a magic contract. The System’s shop offered various grades of these contracts, and this particular one had cost him 100 AP. It was powerful enough to bind official Magi, even those beyond the level of Elemental Adept, though more advanced versions existed.

  Roland’s breath hitched. “A magic contract? Are you asking me to work under you?”

  “It’s the same as before: I want you to join my academy,” said Victor with a firm voice. There was nothing that he wanted more than this, and he felt that further persuasion wouldn’t be necessary because the Elixir of Life was already more than enough to tip the scales.

  Roland’s eyes darted to Victor’s interspatial ring, his face twitching all the while. Clearly, the lure of the elixir overshadowed the pain in his body and any remaining hesitation. With little time left, the only thing holding him back was the question of whether he could trust Victor or not.

  But was there something left to consider at this point?

  After a tense silence, Roland closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Alright, I’ll accept.”

  “Good, good. Let’s proceed with signing the magic contract.” Victor grinned widely in his heart like a villain. Once Roland signed the contract, there would be no escaping his grasp. Hidden within the contract’s clauses were carefully crafted stipulations — each line meticulously written in a script so fine it rivaled the tiniest font size possible.

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  “This…” Even Roland was speechless as he read through the magic contract. “I don’t see anything inherently wrong, but why are there so many clauses?”

  “Just standard precautions.” Victor placed a hand on Roland’s shoulder and added, “Believe me, you’ll find that everything written here is to ensure mutual benefit.

  In truth, the contract was a masterpiece of vicious entrapment. Victor had incorporated many of the players’ suggestions by operating an anonymous alt account on the game’s official website forum. There, he had posed countless hypothetical scenarios, gathering input from players known for their cunning and knack for loophole exploitation.

  The result was a contract that even the most meticulous of minds would struggle to find fault — or escape. Hehe, once you sign it, you’re as good as a pawn in my hand.

  “Fine! I agree to your terms. Here, I’ve signed it.” Left with no other choice, Roland infused his mana into the contract, marking his agreement. The parchment glowed faintly, then floated into the air before disintegrating into a flurry of shimmering particles. The glowing motes drifted down, settling on both Roland and Victor, sealing the pact.

  “Now hurry and give me the elixir!” Roland’s voice cracked with desperation; his demeanor far removed from the stoic Magus he once was. At this moment, he seemed more like a frantic child clinging to hope.

  Victor’s lips curled into a victorious smile as he retrieved the vial. “Here. Take it,” he said, tossing the Elixir of Life to Roland. “Once you’ve recovered, we’ll get started.”

  Without a second thought, Roland uncorked the vial and downed its contents in one go. The effect was instantaneous. A radiant light emanated from within him, coursing through his frail body. His labored breathing steadied, each breath now deep and measured. The wrinkles etched into his face began to fade, and though his hair remained white, his visage appeared at least twenty years younger.

  The transformation caused by the elixir was nothing short of miraculous!

  Roland flexed his fingers, marveling at his lost vitality that had been restored. “Incredible…” he muttered, awe filling his voice as he examined his rejuvenated body, now free from the crippling weight of his injuries and age.

  Seeing this scene, Victor was reminded of Thunder, a player who had once faced a similar fate. He had also been on the brink of despair, and Victor’s intervention had granted him a second chance. His gratitude was overwhelming, so much so that he offered his entire fortune. Even though Earth’s money was of little use to him, he could still feel the other party’s sincerity. Roland, too, was showing a similar reaction.

  The lifespan of an Elemental Adept Magus was typically slightly over two hundred years old. Fifty additional years would undoubtedly be enough for Roland to reach a greater height, extend his lifespan further, and allow him to hold greater powers. In other words, giving the elixir was more than just extending his immediate lifespan.

  Roland’s gaze lifted, his face still full of disbelief. “I… I don’t know what to say. I was convinced the elixir was some kind of trick — or at best, diluted. But this… this is beyond anything I could have imagined.” He looked at Victor with gratitude. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me. From now on, I’ll give everything I have to aid you and your academy, Headmaster.”

  Victor nodded, satisfied with the decision. “A wise decision. Welcome to my academy, Roland.”

  And with that, they both clasped their hands firmly.

  Victor wasted no time leading Roland to the academy grounds. As they approached the towering brick wall and the sprawling complex of buildings beyond it, Roland’s eyes widened in astonishment.

  “You truly operate an academy here! How is it that I never sensed this place before?” Roland stroked his white beard in bewilderment. “Magic formations? To maintain such a high-level concealment barrier, you must be quite skilled.”

  The academy was indeed hidden by powerful magic formations, laid down by the previous headmaster. Unless the person bore the Shadowlink Mark or was guided by someone who did, discovering the academy was virtually impossible. But while the formations were intricate and formidable, their only drawback was the steady drain on mana crystals to sustain them.

  As he guided Roland through the academy, Roland became more and more surprised, especially when seeing the System’s buildings, as he was visibly impressed by them. “Though it may not rival the grandest Magus academies I’ve seen, this place has all the essential facilities… But hold on.” He glanced around, frowning. “Where are the acolytes? I haven’t seen a single soul aside from us.”

  That… Victor hesitated for a fraction of a second. Explaining that the “acolytes” were players currently logged out due to a game update wasn’t exactly an option. Instead, he offered a quick, plausible excuse. “Most of them are asleep — it is the middle of the night, after all.”

  Roland nodded slowly, though a flicker of doubt remained in his eyes. Sensing this, Victor deftly changed the subject. “There’s one more task I need you to do.”

  “Just tell me.” Roland smiled proudly. “My combat power might not match yours, but my experience and knowledge are second to none.”

  “It’s nothing too complicated. You just need to trust me.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Roland narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him.

  Without a word, Victor led him toward the Headmaster’s Building. Now closer to the Nexus Beacon, he imprinted the Shadowlink Mark onto Roland’s wrist. Although Roland was surprised, he didn’t resist the mark and let it bind him; it was quite common for Magus forces to use some sort of branding to tell each other apart, after all. But now, Victor could finally let his guard down — with the mark in place, Roland would find it nearly impossible to betray him.

  Roland inspected the mark and inquired, “What is this black mark for?”

  “All in due time,” Victor said with a mysterious smile. “I’ll explain everything soon — about the academy, the acolytes, and your role here. For now, let me show you the teacher’s dormitory.”

  Fortunately, Victor had prepared the teacher’s dormitory beforehand, located to the north of the Headmaster’s Building. Though small, it had all the essentials a Magus would require: a private study, an alchemy lab, and a meditation chamber. Once there were more professors, he would expand it further, perhaps building some Magus towers wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  After guiding Roland to his lodging, he activated the Master Shadowlink Mark and opened the Academy Inhabitant List. He scrolled through it briefly, then assigned Roland the role of professor.

  [Congratulations, the academy grade has leveled up to level 4!]

  [Requirements for total acolytes and progression value points have increased to 2000.]

  [Artificer Hall is now available.]

  “At last!”