SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

With their treasure weapons in hand, the disciples turned and began to make their way out, their footsteps echoing softly on the polished stone floor. The Sword Magus watched them go, his eyes lingering on each of their departing forms. Despite the powerful artifacts he had bestowed upon them, a deep unease gnawed at him, a sense that something was amiss.

As he stood there, lost in thought, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. The touch was familiar, comforting. He turned to find Supreme Staff Magus Ruchi standing beside him, her eyes filled with concern.

"You've given them treasures from your personal collection, treasures that could turn the tide of any battle. Yet you don't seem at ease. What troubles you?" Staff Magus Ruchi asked in a concerned tone.

The Sword Magus let out a sigh, his gaze shifting towards the distant horizon where the War God Temple loomed, miles away yet ever-present in his mind. "It's nothing, I just can't shake the feeling that the 9 Realms Head is planning something. All the realm disciples are here, gathered in one place, but they've been locked inside that luxurious mansion. Doesn't it strike you as odd?"

Ruchi followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered his words. "It's true that the situation is unusual," she admitted, her tone thoughtful. "All I care about is that our disciples secure some good inheritances. Whatever the others are plotting, let them plot. Our focus is on what's in front of us."

The Sword Magus nodded, though his unease didn't fully dissipate. "Perhaps you're right," he conceded, though his thoughts were still troubled.

"By the way, why do I only see twelve fighters? Where is the thirteenth person you selected?" Staff Magus Ruchi asked with a questioning look.

"Ah, you must be talking about Kent." The Sword Magus let sigh, this one heavier with frustration. "I've tried to contact Healer Eila, but all she says is that Kent will return on time. It's maddening! This was his chance, and yet…"

Ruchi's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with a mix of mirth and sympathy. "Leave it be," she advised, settling herself into a nearby swinging chair with a graceful motion. "If he's foolish enough to miss out on this opportunity, then it's his loss. He'll have forfeited a good treasure, that's for sure."

The Sword Magus shook his head, a sense of resignation creeping into his thoughts. He couldn't help but worry about what the next day would bring. The gathering was a once-in-a-lifetime event, and every moment mattered. Yet, despite his concerns, he knew that Kent's fate was now out of his hands.

Meanwhile, inside the Deity Sect, a different scene was unfolding. The grand hall was filled with piles of glowing treasures. Madam Clark and Healer Eila sat together, their eyes scanning the vast array of treasures that had been gathered with a single purpose in mind: to prepare Kent for the upcoming battle.

If only they knew about the Treasure Trove Palace in Kent possession, they might not have gone to such lengths to gather these many treasures.

They both sat in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. The treasures around them glowed softly, as if in agreement, waiting patiently for the one they were meant to protect. The gathering was just a day away.

But for now, all they could do was wait—wait for Kent to return, wait for the gathering to begin, and hope that the preparations they had made would be enough.

-

9 realms luxurious mansion near the war god temple…

The luxurious mansion was heavily guarded, its perimeter secured by the elite wizard soldiers of the 9 Realms Association.

Entry was strictly controlled, only servants were permitted to pass through the gates, and even then, only for the most necessary reasons.

Yet, just outside the mansion's fortified walls, a different kind of tension was brewing. Not far from the mansion, a small, colorful building had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

Its vibrant colours stood out against the somber surroundings, drawing curious glances from passersby. But it wasn't just the building's appearance that caught their attention—it was the bold title displayed at its entrance:

"Golden Rat Gambling House."

Above the building, a magical image flickered and played, showing the image of Kent alongside a mischievous-looking golden rat.

The display was so audacious, so unexpected, that it quickly became the talk of the area. Inside the gambling house, a fat man lounged comfortably on a plush chair, surrounded by a group of young ladies who fawned over him with practiced ease. His face was the picture of smug satisfaction as he watched the commotion outside.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The attention of the wizard soldiers, who were supposed to be focused on guarding the mansion, was inevitably drawn to the gambling house. A few of them, unable to contain their curiosity, approached the building to investigate. As they neared the entrance, their eyes widened at the sight of the betting odds displayed prominently at the front of the store.

"Gambling for the highest God inheritance receiver—Bet ratio: 1:3."

One of the soldiers, a veteran of the 9 Realms Association, stepped forward and approached the building. His face was a mixture of disbelief and curiosity as he approached the counter where a lady, dressed in luxurious robes, sat beside the fat man.\\

"What's the meaning of this?" the soldier demanded, his voice tinged with both authority and confusion.

The lady turned to him with an amused smile, but before she could answer, the fat man, who had been idly sipping on a goblet of wine, waved a lazy hand in her direction.

"Can't you see it, old man?" Fatty Ben drawled, his tone dripping with arrogance. He leaned back in his chair, giving the soldier a wide, toothy grin.

"My boss, Kent, is going to receive the highest inheritance tomorrow. Not less than anyone, I assure you. If you've got doubts, then place a bet. You'll get three times your money if I lose."

The soldier blinked, momentarily stunned by the man's confidence. He glanced around at the other patrons, who were murmuring among themselves, clearly intrigued by the proposition. "You're serious?" the soldier asked, his voice filled with skepticism. "Do you even know what you're risking?"

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Rain the money!