A Gorgeous White

Chapter 47: The Illusionist's Cave (1)



Ghana's hair was long and straight. Like a waterfall of silver gold with no end. Moulin studied her figure, specifically her muscles, rubbing his chin unconsciously. This gesture was immediately discovered by his friend.

"What?" A corner of Ghana's lips turned up. Somehow, Moulin's curiosity became her amusement ever since his leaf collection.

Moulin paused and lifted his gaze to her. He blinked, "Nothing..." he turned his gaze away.

How was it like this? Women looked even more masculine than him? His gaze drooped, glancing at his feet. He looked like an extremely virgin girl.

Ghana smiled, what was he thinking about again? Was it really the time for him to be concerned about other things than the trials? She chuckled openly while shaking her head. Suddenly, light flashed in her vision. Her brows creased and she roamed her blue eyes over Moulin's frame, landing on the band around his thin wrist.

Her eyes were not fooling her, the color really was purely white. Confusion etched her face.

"Moulin... your band..." She started with hesitation.

The youth raised his eyebrows questionably before noticing her gaze on his band. So she just noticed...

"It's real..." He turned his gaze away. Not at all bothered by his rank. "It's the real result of the test. You must find it funny."

Ghana shook her head. "No, I don't. I'm simply surprised. I have witnessed your real strength and power. I am very certain about your high-level might and abilities, how could the test position you with an inferior grade? It's unacceptable!"

Moulin shook his head, telling her to not think too much about it. "It doesn't influence me much. Although it attracts trouble for me, I do not really care about the attention." He smiled at her.

The female ability wielder pressed her lips together in reluctance. Her savior was being subjected to poor treatment because of this bracelet. She couldn't let this go easily...

Ding!

Dong!

Ding!

A loud ringing belonging to a large bell sounded across the area. It was somehow unusual. There weren't any bells around the gateway, so where was the sound coming from? The crowd of maeruthans stared at the gate with unease.

A magical buzz entered their ears and the interior of the arch gateway glowed. A layer of pure golden mana materialized like a portal, stretching and reading from the edges within the gateway. As the portal's emergence finished, the blinding light was reduced and a breeze enveloped each of them.

Moulin didn't dare to cover his eyes unlike most of the crowd of people. He watched unblinkingly.

The light of gold reflecting in his eyes. Again, he had witnessed something fascinating. His eyes brightened with fixation. A portal! A real portal! His heart pounded with excitement and his cheeks glowed.

A few moments passed and the youthful men and women snapped out from their surprise. Without hesitation, they drove towards the portal as though they would lose everything if they didn't go through it. Some had even begun to push others out of their way.

While others ran, Moulin walked. As if strolling down the bridge over the starry rivers of the palace. His expression light and solemn. Numerous bodies whipped past him, snickering at his tardiness. However, the youth paid no mind. His hair, swaying with his movements. He as well knew he wasn't the only one delaying.

"Why don't you hurry like them? Aren't you motivated?" Moulin spoke to female maeruthan walking a few meters behind him.

Ghana stared at the youth's slender back. Her eyes reflecting the faint halo of light, framing the ethereal youth before her.

Her eyes softened, "I'll walk with you..."

Moulin paused. No words came out from his mouth but a smile graced his lips.

The two walked side by side towards the portal. As the last candidate entered, they were the only ones left greeted by the farewell breeze of the city. Light flashed the moment the pair entered and at the same moment, the portal's light diminished and disappeared.

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

The rows of seats were packed with guild members belonging to different guilds. Their uniforms varying in different colors grouped in different places on the arena's seating floors. The weather was right for the trial day as mid-morning arrived bringing chilly air and the warmth of the sun.

Right a few hundred meters above the arena, a layer of protective mana covered the whole arena. The barrier personally placed and created by the Elder guild Lord of the Elder Council.

The minute the arched gateway flashed a bright light, thundering cheers sounded from every corner of the arena. Their glees blended in the air almost as if a roar of a humongous monster cried. Their entertainment-seeking eyes stared down at the numerous candidates on the arena ground who's eyes roamed around in sheer pride and arrogance.

"Your Lordship..."

Varick, the red-haired knight, bowed respectfully towards the man who have entered the arena's seat box. He pulled the red curtains of the entrance and lead his master towards the throne in the center. It faced a large balcony confronting a large water mirror revealing the numerous candidates of the trials.

The Guild Lord's seat boxes were concealed from the public just until the end of the trials. They were provided water mirrors for sighting everything occurring during the trials as well as monitoring a promising candidate for them to recruit.

"Ah, Lord Hadrian has arrived." A sultry voice spoke, belonging to the woman beside the Leonile Lord seat box. She sat on her throne with crossed legs, leaning her face towards Hadrian. The female guild Lord of the Phiora Guild, Guild Lord Ilona from the Roquen Grand House of the Right Court. Long black hair, adorned with jewels, fell down on her slender waist. Her emerald eyes stared amusingly at the lord. Two women in their Phioric guild uniform stood by her sides. No one had the cores to confront Hadrian and speak to him in a joking tone except for this guild master.

"..."

Hadrian ignored her and sat on his seat. He waved his hand and the human-sized water mirror glowed. flicking his fingers, his eyes searched for a particular person within the arena grounds.

Varick held back a smile giddily.

Ilona curiously gazed at the man ignoring her, chuckling. She was already used to this kind of treatment from him.

"Ilona..."

From the seat box beside hers, a tall man garbed in a luxurious uniform entered. His dominant aura carried a bit of amusement as he walked to his seat, followed by two men. Taking a seat on his usual glamorous throne, he glanced at the silent golden-eyed lord impassively. His burning red eyes shifted his gaze to the water mirror in front of him.

"Lord Ordan..." Ilona nodded to her. She received a smile in response.

Guild Lord Ordan of the Dragor Guild from the Arch Noble House Cillius. The man overpowering the guilds under his feet. His strength was as godly as the bloodline of the imperial family. Excelling in both martial arts and intelligence, he brought the elders of his family to their knees and took the position of the heir of the Arch House.

Ilona's gaze became more profound as he scanned his looks. Such a shame, his looks were outstanding, indeed, but it does not reach the Leonile Lord's godly countenance. She licked her dry lips and narrowed her eyes in amusement.

"Varick..."

Varick stepped closer to his master's seat. Leaning an ear to his Lord.

"Count?"

"A total of Five hundred and fifty-three candidates have entered, Milord."

Hadrian nodded. "Have Forg keep his eyes on the knights guarding the illusion realm."

Varick's brows lifted in surprise but he quickly nodded immediately as he lifted the communicator gem embedded on his bracelet. After relaying the order he took a step back and stood behind his master's throne.

Golden eyes stared intently on the water mirror. He waited for a particular person to appear. His heart, unusually thundering.

Finally, the slender figure exited the portal. His uniform had a snug fit to his slender body. Silver hair fell in waves down from his tied hair. The Lord's burning golden pupils roamed on the youth's svelte figure. How many weeks has it been since he had last seen him?

Varick noticed his master's gaze as if it would burn a hole into the youth in the mirror. He could not help but shudder.

Concurrently, on the grounds of the arena, a silver gaze curiously looked around in wonder. His charming silver hair caught the eyes of many.

"Moulin..." Ghana worriedly called the youth. "Perhaps, it is best if we stay together..." Her eyes momentarily glanced at the audience on the high floors supported by walls. She disliked the gazes of their beings towards the youth beside her

She left like a prisoner forced to fight a beast for her freedom. The sight was a bit suffocating.

"Ghana, nothing will go wrong..." Moulin comforted her. "This arena is set to oppress the candidates if somehow their hearts would waver. Like the last warning for one to turn back."

She looked at him in surprise. If that is so, how come you're fine and uncaring? But Moulin's words were like a spark, igniting her determination to succeed in the trials side by side with the youth. "I will accompany you..."

Moulin glanced at her with a smirk, "Please do, I don't want flies hovering over me as I knock out every single opponent..."

Ghana chuckled. Her blue eyes warmly gazing at him.

Suddenly, A loud ringing of a bell sounded. Particularly similar to the sound before the portal had materialized in Thaeria City. The candidates lifted their heads and saw a middle-aged man in robes of pure white standing on the seat box. The guild elder stared down at them, oppressively raising his chin.

"Welcome all! We are here to witness the potential and strength of our people. This year's candidates will be confronting difficulty far from their level. Excel in all three levels of the trials and one shall be granted the right to choose their guild as for those who could not, a guild will willingly choose those who the lords favor. Let us begin..."

The man didn't say anything more and raised a large mana crystal, the size of a grown man's head. It rises into the air and the crowd cheered loudly. The crystal glowed brightly and not longer than a second, the figures of the candidates disappeared on the grounds with a flash of light.

Moulin waited and glanced at Ghana beside him. The latter smiled at him in encouragement, "Don't get hurt too much..."

With that, light flashed and the young woman beside him disappeared. A corner of his lips turned up. He closed his eyes, waiting. Feeling as though a breeze swept him from his feet, he sighed.

And as he opened his eyes, gone were the comforts of the wind and the cheers of the people. He opened his eyes and the comfortable feeling in his chest vanished, replaced by a deathly seriousness to empower and overthrow.

He was standing in the middle of a forest. The skies were dark concealing the daylight and not a sound was heard around him. He observed his surroundings expressionlessly. The forest was as though covered by a wave of despair.

Was this the illusionist's cave?

Nothing around him seems to connect with the illusionist name. He frowned.

Feeling the crunch of leaves underneath his feet, he moved forward. No one was there to annoy him, no one was there to mock him, no one was there for him to care about anything. A comfortable sigh escaped his lips.

As he walked, his fingers flexed. A longbow materialized in his hand, it dazzled regardless of the lack of light. Of course, he would not forget the task he needed to finish. But everything was just so comfortable for him. It was as if he had returned to the wintery mountains of the north uncaring of the world. Only, there was not a sight of snow anywhere.

He shrugged and walked, humming quietly. Oblivious of the numerous glowing red eyes hiding behind the shadows.


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