Chapter 130 - 131
The old man let out the ghost of a snicker and then quickly dissipated from sight, his image fading like a mirage in close proximity to an observer.
Maels’s face contorted the moment that the energy projection disappeared, annoyed that Vestach had attempted to spy on him right before their conversation. Thankfully he hadn’t activated the mechanism at the back of the bookcase that hugged the room’s left wall, else he would have surely lost his greatest asset.
After remaining still for a moment, he decided to activate an advanced detection spell to make sure that he was truly unseen by prying eyes. After confirming that he was the only one even remotely near his rooms, he strode across the study to face the centuries-old bookcase, which stretched from floor to ceiling and wall to wall.
He’d run into his guards in the dining hall and had given them a much-appreciated evening off, both of their auras still idling around the same table that they had been at earlier on. Since they were likely deep into their cups by this point, he could rest assured that nobody would bother him for the rest of the night.
Before anything else, Maels cast several types of barriers around the room in order to assure that nobody could enter it while he was immersed in study. Not only would the door not budge if someone tried to open it, but he would detect any attempt to do so the moment that it occurred. He had also concealed these spells so that nobody within the palace would be able to detect the fact that there was high-level magic at play within his private quarters.
Finally...
Suppressing a shiver, Maels stared at the vast collection of rare works from ages past, the contents of a single shelf worth their weight in gold. After anticipating this moment to the point of agitation, he finally had the opportunity to feast his eyes on the priceless, life-changing knowledge that he had recently happened upon.
After double-checking to make sure that he had complete privacy, Maels imitated the magical discharge that had taken place after he’d botched the alteration of a compound spell involving the element of fire and the properties of light. The expulsion of raw energy resulted in a gust of hot air that appeared wavy in how it refracted the light of the ceiling-embedded crystals, the artificial wind wafting over a certain area of the bookshelf behind which even a sixth-tier magus like Maels couldn’t sense a thing. The hot air dissipated within a matter of moments and the surrounding temperature quickly returned to its former cool, which left him standing there with an unbound grin that was full of expectation.
As had been the case the previous times that he had replicated this process, there was no grand reaction or eruption of light as some enchantments tended to release upon contact or activation. Very quietly, a sizeable section of wood on the bookshelf’s backing suddenly began to shimmer like the disturbed surface of a calm lake, before the old, polished wood retreated in all directions to reveal a modest compartment that had been carved into the stone behind this particular shelving unit. Maels had already confirmed that this compartment would only remain open for a single minute before returning to its original, ordinary state, so he quickly set about removing the books that rested within.
A moment later and he was staring down at the pair of books in his hands with bubbling anticipation. Even if I miss out on some sleep, I’ll have to be sure to read as much as possible. As the wooden backing of the shelf returned to its previous appearance, Maels found a spot at his desk and inspected both of the books in question. The larger was an ancient grimoire that was bound in odd, scaly leather the colour of charcoal, the second a journal stuffed to the brim with external pieces of parchment. If the original owner of the nameless grimoire was whom he suspected, then it was likely around a thousand years old. The second one, encased in the familiar rich browns of Karolenian leather, seemed about half that age.
Thinking of Vestach’s new assignment and the backwater count that he now had to keep an eye on, Maels decided to ignore the task for the time being. Running his fingers over the well-preserved works with a trembling hand, he retracted his arm and drew an oval over his chest in order to express his deep and unending gratitude to Lucian for granting him such good luck, as well as such an imperative mission.