Heaven's Greatest Professor

Cassandra had finished discussing matters with her sister a few minutes ago and had just dived into meditation to dispel the chilly ambient energy that had found its way into her channels. The chilliness was insidious. Most people could detect it outside, but they didn't realize how it infected them until it was too late.

The worst thing about it was that the more one replenished their energy with the ambient energy of this place, the higher the chances of infection. The only way to dissolve the chilliness before it froze one's channels and ate away their power was to circulate the energy throughout their body, always keeping it flowing within. This process would dissolve the foreign mark of the chilliness.

Cassandra had already advised her sisters, and even the other soldiers in the camp, about the insidious effect of the ambient energy. Many of them recognized the dilemma, though it did not make it any easier. The situation could be alleviated with a few good healers who could cast cleansing spells en masse. Sadly, they were only graced with May and one of her sisters, Masima.

She was barely a quarter of an hour into her meditation when she heard a weird whistle near her tent. Through her control over sound waves, Cassandra knew it came from Adept Warden, who was likely whistling to summon her. There was nothing to knock on, after all.

The guy could just ask for entry instead of whistling awkwardly, Cassandra mused. It wasn't as though she was some rare exotic bird he was calling.

He was most likely here to listen to the reports on how far she had progressed with the plans he had outlined. And more likely to give her more tasks to organize. Cassandra swore that the man didn't give any credit for how difficult it was for her to maintain her poise in this hellish environment, much less her pristine womanly appearance.

At least he could appreciate it a little, but most of their encounters had been about serious matters.

Like the last time he asked if she was an oracle or how extensive her divination skill was. Unfortunately, Cassandra was at a loss when she dealt with this mysterious figure. She could not discern anything about him.

Calming her demeanour and checking her appearance, she called him in. "Ahem! You can enter."

Adept Warden didn't wait ceremoniously. He entered the camp at once, shot her a gaze, and stood awkwardly in one corner.

I wonder how much of it is simply an act? Cassandra hid her smirk and gestured for him to sit across from her. Although she wasn't tracking his movements, she had asked her sister to keep an eye on him. As far as that went, the 'janitor' or rather the fake janitor had been gone for several hours. But now, looking at the bits of bloodstains on his uniform, she could easily guess what he had been doing.

I wonder what your game is, Mister Warden, Cassandra thought. You couldn't be someone the higher-ups sent to keep everyone safe.

"So," the fake janitor broke the silence. "How is it going?"

Cassandra decided to keep the conversation strictly professional. "It is on track. The formation you asked Cole to work on is the only thing that's slow."

Warden frowned, and then his expression eased. "It's already too much to ask of the guy. I would have been surprised if he could complete it by tomorrow."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen," she replied. "According to the last report, he's about twelve percent done. I think he's having a little trouble understanding the shell design you gave him through me."

In their first conversation, the man had been surprised to learn she recognised the runesmithing terms. Being the young successor of Azalea Garden, she had dabbled in many areas. Unfortunately, her talent in scripts was nothing to boast about.

"Only 12%," he muttered, the frown returning to his brows. "It would have been a lot easier if Jenni was here... but it looks like I'll have to lend a hand in it before the moment passes."

Cassandra wasn't sure why he was so obsessed with getting everything prepared by tomorrow. She understood the importance of timeliness, but he made it seem like any lapse might cause their entire plan to fall apart.

To be honest, she was still conflicted about the likelihood of success of this plan. While Warden emphasized that it wasn't suicidal, at least for most of them, the chances of success were still quite slim. Much depended on the shoulders of the mysterious runesmith and his formation.

She didn't know why she had even agreed to it. True, there were chances of withdrawing if the plan fell apart, but given the low probability of success, she wondered if she should have invested her time elsewhere.

And yet, here she was, discussing the matter of the plan alone with its mastermind.

She swore the man possessed some kind of ethereal aura that made people believe in him. Belief didn't come easy in a world of power.

But sometimes, his words carried so much force... Moreover, he was fine with her taking all the credit if the plan succeeded. Clearly, something other than recognition was driving the man.

They discussed more intricacies of the plan. Cassandra committed each of his words to memory, ensuring she understood his intentions and looking out for any potential traps. She had to admit, sometimes he shared many of his thoughts offhandedly, as though they were unimportant.

Within about a quarter of an hour, she had mostly finished reporting everything and receiving further instructions. He turned to leave, but she saved one piece of information for the last moment.

"Oh, I forgot to add," she said. "It has been quite a hassle to keep Tayl Alebson quiet about his foolish plan. In the end, I had to make a short concession."

"What is it?" he asked without turning.

"We have decided to hunt down the scouting teams of the forsaken to reduce their numbers."

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Mass release 3/5

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