The woman lifted the struggling black cat to her eye level, gave its head a gentle flick, and stuffed it back into her breeding pouch despite its indignant yowls. One by one, she retrieved her modified creatures, which lay sprawled and twisted across the arena floor.

  The vast Arena felt profoundly different from the aftermath of a typical duel. There were no cheers, no angry shouts; only a rare, heavy silence. If the lack of jeering was due to the status of the two casters, the lack of applause was likely because most had failed to understand what they had just seen. A battle that ended abruptly with a surrender was an unwelcome change for a crowd accustomed to the spray of hot blood.

  The raspy-voiced wizard apprentice, naturally, paid no heed to the strangers in the stands. She stared directly at Tars, as if trying to see through his identity, or perhaps still wondering what lay beneath his mask. To Tars, however, her gaze felt more like that of a scientist eager to dissect a specimen for research.

  "Is the effect of that strange spell a result of modifications you've made to your body?" she asked, her eyes fixed on him.

  Her words only strengthened Tars's conviction that, should he agree, she would snatch him up and pin him to an experimental table without a second thought. He shook his head, determined to extinguish her curiosity, if only by a fraction.

  "It is merely a minor spell with exceptionally high affinity. You should know that superior affinity makes spell modification far easier," he said with a smile.

  The woman looked slightly disappointed, seemingly losing half her interest in the conversation instantly. Looking bored, she added with some effort, "Do not become too deeply involved in the affairs of these Lower Domain nobles. You may offer limited help to friends, but do not cause large-scale destruction. You must judge the limits yourself; if you go too far, masquerading as a wild wizard will not save you."

  "Thank you for the warning," Tars replied with a chuckle.

  He watched her turn and walk away, letting out a long breath of relief. Since there were no major conflicting interests, she clearly hadn't exerted her full strength. Nevertheless, he had gained a sharp realization: a wizard should never let others easily learn the spells they command, especially solidified or modified ones; the deterrent of the unknown was invaluable.

  As Tars walked back toward the tunnel, he encountered the female apprentice again. She spotted him as well. When he found the correct path and climbed the stairs to the noble balcony, she shifted her pace and followed behind him.

  Tars paid her no more mind. Upon returning to the balcony, he was greeted by a beaming Young Master Rodrigo. The expressions of the other nobles on the stand had changed. As Tars's gaze moved across the crowd, everyone he looked at instantly broke into a wide, blossoming smile.

  "Lord Tars, please forgive my impudence. I did not know you were also..." Edgar said with an air of absolute sincerity.

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  "To appreciate combat in the Arena is to follow the Arena's rules. How could that be considered impudence?" Tars comforted him with a laugh. "However, I must remind you, Master Edgar—please do not spread rumors. I am merely a wild wizard."

  Edgar's face paled. It wasn't because Tars had contradicted him, but because he was clearly aware of the rule prohibiting the Wizard Domain from interfering with the Lower Domain's Cavern Cities.

  "Yes, yes, I understand. You are... a wild wizard," Edgar said, keeping his head low.

  Tars nodded with satisfied amusement. Just then, the female apprentice reached the balcony, and Edgar took the opportunity to escort her back to their small social circle. At last, the area around Tars grew quiet. Edgar's setback and Rodrigo's presence had discouraged most others from attempting to strike up a conversation.

  A new duel began between two death-row prisoners. To stoke the atmosphere, the red-nosed manager climbed a high platform and announced that the winner would receive a ten-year reduction of their sentence. The audience roared, and the two combatants instantly shed their fear, the tension between them turning lethal.

  Tars, meanwhile, was beginning to feel overwhelmed by Rodrigo's fervent gaze.

  "Lord Tars," Rodrigo whispered, leaning in. "Are you... truly a wild wizard?"

  The distinction between a wild wizard and an apprentice with a formal lineage was more than just a title or a matter of raw power. Primarily, it represented the gap in innate talent. Most wild wizards were those who had failed the talent tests in the various Cavern Domains. The difficulty of finding one's own path combined with inferior talent led to a more critical issue: the probability of ever becoming a true wizard. This was the key factor in how an apprentice was valued.

  Tars shifted his gaze away from a tall, scrawny prisoner who was remarkably skilled with a flail. He glanced at Rodrigo, who was whispering like a conspirator, and at the red-haired Myrtle, who was ostensibly watching the fight but had her ears pricked toward them.

  "If I were not a wild wizard apprentice, I would have fled your annoying gaze long ago and returned to the Wizard Domain," he said.

  Young Master Rodrigo immediately turned his eyes back to the heated combat in the pit. However, after only a moment, he turned back. Just as he was about to speak again, a figure rushed up the stairs to the noble balcony. The man slowed his pace only when he saw the crowd, composed himself, and approached Rodrigo.

  Tars recognized him—it was the butler from Rodrigo's manor. After a hurried whisper, Tars noticed Rodrigo's expression shift slightly, though he quickly forced it back to normal. Tars caught snippets of the message: word had been sent from the family castle to the manor. Rodrigo's eldest brother, who had been bedridden for years, was apparently reaching the end of his life.

  Such news could not be hidden for long; the whole city would likely know soon.

  "Lord Tars, I have matters to attend to. If you wish to continue watching, Myrtle will stay here to accompany you," Rodrigo said, clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

  Tars thought for a moment and stood up. "Let's leave together. I should head back to the manor to meditate anyway," he said.

  He could tell that in this emergency, Rodrigo didn't want to leave him here—even if it meant a slight detour to drop him off. Perhaps, with his family's numbers dwindling, Rodrigo viewed him as a form of outward deterrence: a mysterious, unnamed, and powerful "wild wizard" allied with the Starry Family.

  Tars's mind raced. This card might not just be for external threats. If the eldest son truly passed away, wouldn't that make the Young Master beside him the new first-in-line heir?

  If Rodrigo becomes the City Lord, then securing a passage ticket to the Wizard Domain—no matter how difficult—should be well within reach, Tars thought.