CHAPTER 74: WEAVING A STORY

He began by describing his first step: destroying the fog formation with the help of a non-existent artifact that channelled thunder and lightning.

He hid his ability to cast large spells temporarily to protect himself. After all, he understood the Tower’s nature too well.

Once, they treated him like royalty, showering him with resources, only to discard him like trash when his talent disappeared. So, it was natural for them to assume Zephyr resentmented them.

Now, if he suddenly became talented again, would they see a vengeful threat or an asset?

Most likely, they would classify him as a threat.

The tower might choose the safe option of eliminating him rather than letting him grow. Thus, he felt like mediocrity was his shield and the lightning artifact the best cover.

For that, he fabricated the artifact that spewed lightning to mask what exactly he had done.

From there, he told them how he used guerrilla warfare tactics to constantly harass the necromancer, killing his undead one at a time. Then he spoke about how he used the mana from the cores to create a jammer that disrupted the necromancer’s command to the undeads.

The Masters widened their eyes. The rest of the mages leaned over, interested in the technical impossibility of the matter.

"How did you do that?" Corvinus asked, his eyes twinkling.

Zolt wore the same frown he usually had and looked at Zephyr, demanding an answer.

"My trait allows me to control a huge amount of ownerless mana if I exert hard enough. At that time, I had no choice but to do everything I could, even when I knew it would cause internal damage to my body." He exaggerated the damage he would take to downplay the incredibility of his trait.

After all, an incredible power with a high cost was less threatening than a free one.

"Brilliant." Corvinus clapped his hands together, letting the staff hover nearby. "I was wondering how a weakling like you survived against a necromancer. Ha...it was a battle of wits after all."

He muttered "Brilliant," again, while motioning Zephyr to continue.

Zephyr obliged by delving deeper into the story.

"At that time, the necromancer was low on mana. I pressed him on giving him two options: either use his mana to kill me, therefore delaying the sacrificial ritual, which he was planning to do with the villagers, or be stuck in a deadlock with me, waiting for my attack. I wanted to buy as much time as I could since my sneak attack failed."

"After being harassed for minutes, the necromancer finally chose to kill me."

Corvinus raised his hand, interrupting the flow.

"Wait a minute, you haven’t told us how you killed the undeads...or how you lost your arm."

"Oh, this," Zephyr looked at the stump and continued. "About that...I ran into an undead knight and lost my arm two days prior." Zephyr shrugged before moving on to the next topic as if the life-altering injury was just a scrape.

The rest of the mages were perplexed by how casually he was treating the injury. Still, they patiently let him continue.

"The necromancer decided to attack me in the end. The stalling tactic didn’t work for long."

"He tried to fly away from the jammer’s range and command the undeads."

"But, while doing so, I used the dark mana I was controlling to blur the target. It was a gamble that shouldn’t have worked." Zephyr looked at them innocently.

"However, for some reason, it resulted in the undeads considering themselves the target and subsequently killing themselves. I didn’t expect that."

Corvinus and the rest stood there frozen for a few seconds.

"That was such dumb luck that defied all logic," Corvinus said and stared with his mouth agape. They understood the theory, but trying to replicate that was madness.

Enamored by the twists and turns in the story, they waited for Zephyr to continue.

"Yes, it was."

"Then what happened?" Zolt asked, breaking his silence.

Zephyr gave him a cursory glance before continuing.

"Then the real villain came."

"The real villain? Were there other men involved?"

The rest of the mages began to murmur uneasily.

"Yes. After I freed the villagers by destroying the mana core of the artifact (not a real artifact), casting a light spell, the necromancer realised it was impossible to win. The voyeuristic master of his realised this as well. So, he prioritised awakening the godspawn."

Zephyr turned around to look at everyone.

"Did I say anything about the voyeuristic villain?"

They shook their heads.

Zephyr nodded before promptly switching on to describing some details about the man while avoiding everything related to him.

The mages around him heard it and nodded. Finally, they realised the people who blocked the Viscount and the mage they sent initially were connected to the necromancer and his master.

Zephyr also mentioned they had taken a man called Jack captive.

At the end, he finally began to talk about the real reason he survived.

"I was spared," Zephyr said softly. "The necromancer’s master took over his body, dug out his heart to awaken the godspawn at the end. He must have sensed you were coming and spared me. When you think about it, he was trying to awaken the godspawn quickly. It would have been a waste of time to kill me personally."

The real reason Zephyr was spared was because of his trait and the interest the person had in studying it. But saying that out loud was not a great idea, so he stealthily avoided, weaving a different story.

"I was never supposed to live," Zephyr said with a weary expression. "Fortunately, you came at the right time and saved me. Thank you."

He embellished a great deal and wove a story that is advantageous to him while relaying all important pieces of information.

The ’thank you’ at the end was a bait used to soothe their ego. After all, no one likes to hit a smiling face. In that way, he made them feel as though he had genuine gratitude. To survive, Zephyr didn’t mind giving them this win.

The mages heard his completely-not-heartfelt, hollow thank you and smiled, believing his every word.