If it's about the Inquisition Bureau, things become much more complicated. It is a highly mysterious organization, and it is said that there is no official record of the identities of its members, from the director to the executors. The moment they join the Inquisition Bureau, the Vatican will start erasing all their personal information and traces of their lives. It is a department that doesn't exist on any written document, and the people inside are like ghosts.

The clue ends here, and Rocky clenches his fists. He believes that no one in this world can truly leave no trace, but it is far beyond his authority to obtain information from the Inquisition Bureau.

"Thank you very much," Rocky expressed his gratitude. There was no need for Kam to tell him all this.

"There's one more thing, you need to be careful," Kam said, putting down his empty teacup. "The hereditary mage you fought in the Land of Night is likely from the Academy."

"I know, he knows my every move very well. He must have followed me from the Academy, and only he can track me without being noticed by my apostles," Rocky said. "I will be careful."

"No, this is the Holy Messiah Academy after all, and you should know that there is a mage living in the Ancient Bell Library," Kam shook his head. "He won't attack you in the Academy, otherwise he will be discovered by the mage, and he won't have enough lives to escape... But he is about to get a perfect opportunity soon."

"What opportunity?"

"According to the tradition of the Faculty of Elemental Studies, a magic practice battle will be held every early autumn, and the location will be in the outskirts far from the capital," Kam said. "Almost every student who chooses to study elemental magic will participate because magic is not learned for fun, it is an academic pursuit of killing. Once the empire goes to war, a large number of hereditary mages will be conscripted, so the results in the magic practice battle will affect the students' graduation grades."

"But the students have different lengths of study, and learning magic requires time accumulation," Rocky said. "Isn't it unreasonable to have experienced mages who have studied magic for years fight against freshmen who have just started learning magic?"

"At that time, several broad areas will be divided, and students of different lengths of study will be separated and categorized. Then, magic tutors assigned by the academy and war mages selected by the military will guarantee the safety of the students and prevent excessive magical casting," Kam said. "But the problem is, they are all hereditary mages. They can protect most of the students, but if there is a hereditary mage with unknown identity among these students, they cannot provide effective protection."

"You want me to protect those students?" Rocky raised an eyebrow. He understood the implicit meaning behind Kam's words. It turns out he wasn't just simply reminding him. "Why don't you go to Princess' teacher? Lord Saldar in the Ancient Bell, even a hundred hereditary mages won't cause a stir."

"He is not limited by the Holy Messiah Academy, and he is very reclusive. Except for your group of hereditary mages and mages, others cannot even go up the clock tower," Kam spread his hands. "Without alarming the Vatican, you are the only protector."

"Without alarming the Vatican? So...," Rocky sneered. "You actually know that guy was inserted by some influential family?"

"Of course, all the students' information is transparent, except for those powerful families, no one can secretly send someone into the Holy Messiah Academy. Even your teacher had to write a recommendation letter for me," Kam said. "This is a struggle in the political arena. I don't want to get involved, but I also don't want the students to get into trouble, whether it is for humanitarian reasons or professional ethics as an educator."

"You're afraid those students are either rich or powerful, and you're afraid of the consequences afterwards," Rocky said.

Kam smiled without answering.

"Alright, I agree," Rocky stood up and finished the barley tea in front of him with a gulp before placing it back on the plate with a "thud". "I will participate in the magic practice battle and do my best to ensure the lives of the other students, but I have one condition."

"What condition?"

"I want to see the Emperor," Rocky said.

"That's impossible," Kam frowned. "The Holy See won't see you, and I can't arrange an opportunity for you to meet the Pope."

"No, I'm not referring to the Pope," Rocky said. "I am referring to the Emperor of the Reles Empire who resides in the palace."

"Why do you want to see him?"

"No comment."Rocky walked out of the tower where the dean's office was located. At this time, the rain outside was getting heavier. Thick dark clouds covered the entire sky of Nomenge. The rain fell from the sky, making it difficult for Rocky to see things clearly even ten meters away, as everything was blurry in the pouring rain.

His footsteps didn't stop. He walked straight into the rain, and before the raindrops landed on his clothes, an umbrella shielded him from above.

"Was it smooth?" Alice tilted her head slightly, her crimson pupils shining brighter under the shadow of the umbrella.

"The case from five years ago hasn't made much progress," Rocky said. "But at least we have the opportunity to get rid of that inheritor mage. Kam said that guy might strike again during the next magic practice battle. We won't let him escape next time."

"You've been really tired these days. You should rest more," Alice moved the umbrella closer to him. "Your injuries haven't fully healed yet."

"Yeah," Rocky nodded. "But there are still doubts about Prince Scott's matter. I'm a little worried."

"Is it because of what Flavia said before? Indeed... it doesn't make sense for Inspector to go to such great lengths to frame a mere prince's attendant."

"I want to see Lord Sarda, the Ancient Clock Master, one more time," Rocky said. "The eyes of a mage always have a much broader view."

......................................................................................................

Because of the rainy weather, the Ancient Clock Library was quiet, even more desolate than usual. Rocky and Alice's footsteps echoed between the bookshelves, sounding particularly loud.

"There are really so many books here," Alice looked around. "But still not as many as your teacher's."

There was also a library in the Magic Tower in the Ulu'er Mountains. The Magic Tower was not just a simple stone tower. It was built with complex magical arrangements, and the ratio of its internal area to its external appearance was about ten to one. The books stored in the Magic Tower were passed down through the generations of mages, carefully selected and organized by countless generations of mages. The quantity had reached an extremely exaggerated level. If the number of books in the Magic Tower were made public, it would undoubtedly overshadow the Ancient Clock Library by at least ten-folds.

"By the way, isn't this Ancient Clock Master also a mage?" Alice suddenly remembered and asked, "Why doesn't he live in his own Magic Tower instead of this old and broken clock tower?"

"Sarda was named Ancient Clock Master not because he lives in the Ancient Clock Library, but because his previous Magic Tower was also a clock tower, known as the 'Tower of Ten Thousand Clocks'," Rocky said. "But his Magic Tower was destroyed, so he moved to the Ancient Clock Library afterwards."

"Destroyed?" Alice was surprised. "Judging by your teacher's level... mages are very powerful, right? I can't imagine what kind of person could dismantle the Magic Tower where a mage lived."

"Of course, it was another mage," Rocky's voice was calm, but the content was quite stimulating. "It was my teacher, Baidimuto Nairoye of the Merlin succession."

"Wow," Alice raised her eyebrows. "It wouldn't be surprising if it was him, but why did he dismantle Sarda's Magic Tower? And Sarda doesn't seem to hold a grudge against him?"

"Have I mentioned it before? My sister, Laylie, was Baidimuto Nairoye's first disciple. But she died on the eve of going to the Ulu'er Mountains to practice with him," Rocky's gaze darkened. "Generally, a mage only has one disciple in their lifetime, unless that disciple dies... My teacher was very angry at that time. He cast a spell on Nomenge and intended to destroy the whole city. Several mages from the Imperial Capital stopped him, and in the end, Sarda sacrificed his own Magic Tower to severely damage my teacher, forcing him to leave Nomenge and return to the Ulu'er Mountains to heal. Sarda and my teacher were very good friends. Although my teacher destroyed his Magic Tower, Sarda didn't blame him. Instead, he is still willing to provide help to me now."

"It's a pity about your teacher..."

"Alice!" Rocky looked at her coldly, and she immediately shut her mouth, wisely following behind him.Rocky and Alice arrived at the stairs of the bell tower, ascending step by step. The place where the sorcerer lived was always shrouded in magic's mystery and the weight of knowledge. In a daze, it seemed like he was back in that magic tower in the distant snowy mountains at the border.

But he also knew that the magic tower was now empty, devoid of its rightful power, because the sorcerer was no longer there.

................................................................................................................................................

Five years ago, the Uler Mountains, the magic tower.

The cold and snow were shut off by the black iron doors of the magic tower. The flickering candlelight was the only light in this world, illuminating only a small area. The rest remained hidden in darkness. It was extremely quiet here, and if one listened carefully, they could even hear the sound of the candles burning.

This was the grand hall on the bottom floor of the magic tower. In the faint light, one could see a staircase in the center, extending straight into the distant darkness.

An unknown light source descended from above, and Rocky saw a chair at the end of the stairs. It wasn't some uniquely shaped object, nor a throne towering over others. It was just an ordinary high-backed wooden chair. The powerful sorcerer who could control storms and snowstorms sat there, with the hood of his mage robe pulled down, revealing only half of his face below his eyes.

However, it could be seen that he was not like the impression people had of a sorcerer - with gray hair and wisdom carved into every wrinkle. He looked young, appearing to be under thirty.

"The great Merlin succession, Sorcerer Baidimuto Naroye." Rocky felt the pain from the broken ribs caused by the blank bullet. The pain made the barely ten-year-old boy break into a cold sweat, but he held on and kneeled down to pay his respects to the peak master of magic power in the world. "I am Rocky Dolaville Oxias, paying my respects to you. May the light of the goddess Tiran be with you."

The sorcerer's gaze looked over. His eyes were hidden in the shadow of the hood, but Rocky could feel his gaze. It was an indescribable feeling, as if a lion had silently approached him from behind, death and cruelty surrounding him simultaneously.

"The light of Tiran cannot reach my magic tower." Baidimuto's voice rang out, coming from all directions of the magic tower, like waves crashing against each other, bringing about continuous echoes. "You can rise."

Rocky stood up straight, surprised to find that the pain in his body had disappeared. The sorcerer's power really surpassed common understanding, and he increasingly believed that coming to see the sorcerer was the right choice.

"Why have you come to see me?" Baidimuto asked. "My disciple, your sister is dead, and you were the one who killed her. Yet you dare to come here to meet your death?"

"I seek revenge," Rocky said, lifting his head and fearlessly meeting the sorcerer's gaze.

Those deep blue eyes reflected the darkness in the distance like a mirror, but they were not devoid of spirit. Within that world reflected in the mirror, flames burned fiercely, like hell. Yes, those were a pair of eyes filled with hatred, surrounded by an unshakable sorrow, completely different from what a child of his age should possess.