The ethereal tones of a harp, laden with sorrow, echoed above the settlement.

In the distance, the controlled wizards and apprentices gradually regained clarity.

Recalling their recent ordeals—coupled with the severed limbs around them and the barrier overhead—panic set in. They fled in all directions.

The termites on the ground did not attack them. In their minds, these wizards and apprentices were food for the termite queen. But now, they could no longer sense her presence. Thus, they ceased their attacks on ordinary people, wandering aimlessly before burrowing back into the earth.

Yet at this point, whether wizards or commoners, very few remained alive.

Late at night, after a brief uproar, silence returned to the settlement. Only the harp’s sorrowful melody continued throughout the night.

By dawn, a group of wizards finally worked together to dismantle the magical barrier that had trapped them.

Saul, cloaked and concealed, blended into the crowd and fled with them.

Once they had escaped the settlement-turned-deathtrap, Saul slipped away from the others and disappeared into the forest.

Seeing no one nearby, Penny finally emerged, “Brother Saul, you beat him up and ran—were you afraid he’d come after you?”

Saul cast a glance at the little butterfly who had already been hunted by Kismet once. “I’ve been wanting to punch him for a long time.”

Even now, Saul couldn’t figure out what Kismet’s true intentions were.

Agu, with broader insight, could at least understand why Saul had acted.

Agu: “That man said the termite scheme had nothing to do with him, but I doubt that’s true.”

Saul sneered. “More than just unrelated—he was the one who started it.”

He’d already used countless lives to raise a magical pet—Kismet had done it once at Ralph Manor.

Later, in his pursuit of the Nightmare Butterfly, he’d lured commoners and wizards alike into Grind Sail Town, which had been cursed with a blood-sea curse.

In short, this was a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, no matter the cost or the casualties.

The most frightening thing was—no one knew what those goals actually were.

“I even suspect that the method Monte found for making Soul-Reading Candles, and the technique that let Dolly nurture a termite queen in her womb, were both his ideas,” Saul said coldly, without a shred of sympathy for either of them.

At this point, Morden spoke up.

Morden: “That great shaman and that lady—they’re both True Wizards, yet they’re mimicking the methods of savages. Brainless degenerates!”

Herman: “Senior, what do you mean? How are they copying savages?”

Morden: “Wizard power comes from within—knowledge and self. But they tried to use the evolution of other magical creatures to force their own advancement. That’s a sure path to backlash.”

Agu sighed.

Agu: “Maybe they were just desperate, stuck for too long without a breakthrough.”

The difficulty of advancement left Morden and Herman silent.

What wizard hadn’t been stuck at some stage, feeling like death would be easier?

In the end, they began to doubt themselves, doubt their path… even doubt the world.

Saul, however, couldn’t relate at all.

By now, he had reached the place deep in the woods where Monte had kept the Humpback Termites.

The wizards who had once guarded this spot had clearly noticed the chaos in the settlement—they were long gone.

Inside, the seven so-called “meat nests”—ordinary people used as hosts—had all perished.

Clearly, the termites here had turned on them as well.

Back in the underground chamber of the Pandeting, Saul had found not only bottles of Soul-Reading Candle paste, but also a number of well-hidden scrolls.

After beating up Kismet, he’d leapt into the basement and stashed the items he hadn’t had time to take earlier into his storage device.

Among those precious magical scrolls, Saul had found something else.

It was this item that had kept him from leaving the settlement right away and instead led him into the forest.

It was a sealed, tiny white termite.

But not a Humpback Termite—this was a Quicksand Termite.

And having cared for a Quicksand Termite queen before in the Wizard Tower, Saul immediately recognized it—this was aqueen candidate.

In other words, if the termite colony’s reigning queen died, this one could immediately take over to ensure the species’ survival.

But as long as the reigning queen was still alive and nearby, it would remain dormant.

Smaller than regular termites, it could enter a state of suspended animation at will—reducing its need for nutrients and allowing more resources to go to the queen.

Upon seeing this termite, Saul immediately understood: there must still be a Quicksand Termite queen colony somewhere near the settlement.

Deeper in the forest, Saul broke the magical seal on the termite, then bent down and gently dropped it onto the ground.

At first, it aimlessly scurried in circles like a headless fly. Then, sensing something, it began moving in a clear direction.

“Little Algae, follow it.”

Little Algae dropped to the ground and vanished instantly.

As a magical creature of the earth element, tracking a termite underground was easy.

Saul was just about to follow when he suddenly sensed a surge of wild magic behind him.

No—not just magic, but a magic storm.

He spun around and saw, in the direction of the settlement, a tornado of raging magical energy!

At first, Saul was shocked. Then, he quickly calmed down.

“So, this was all to generate a page,” he muttered, eyes drifting toward the mental diary within him—where a new page was about to form.

But there was no excitement.

He could feel that Kismet’s goal in gathering the diary pages wasn’t about him.

…

The storm of chaotic magic didn’t last long.

Standing atop the ruins of the Pandeting, Kismet extended a hand. A white page began to form at his fingertip.

He looked faintly disappointed.

“So it’s still too hard to make a gold page. Maybe if that Humpback Termite had reached Rank Three…”

The white page vanished instantly. Kismet wasn’t surprised.

The diary’s true owner was nearby. The new page would naturally seek them—not him, the…

He rested his chin on the top of his harp.

The wound on his face had vanished, but blood still stained the strings.

“To make a gold page, I’ll need more than a puny settlement. Time for something big. I wonder when that wind sprite will finally make a move?”

Far from the forest stood a sheer cliff wall.

It was riddled with holes—dense, disturbing cavities.

At its highest point lived one of the three Rank Three beings of the Borderland:

The Wind Sprite.

In a spacious cave deep inside the narrow, maze-like tunnels sat a stunning woman.

Her slightly upturned eyes gave her enchanting face a sharp, dangerous edge.

Though she lounged lazily in her chair, her mere presence made the attendants around her visibly uneasy.

She hadn’t moved a muscle in three days, locked in silent thought.

Finally, the silence was broken.

A guard in warrior garb entered and knelt on one knee.

“Lady Wind Sprite—Monte the wizard’s termite plan has failed.”

(End of Chapter)

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