Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

Chapter 231: Whirlwind of emotions



Angus, caught off guard and visibly perplexed, sought clarification, "What?"

Jaegar, resolute and unfazed, chose not to repeat the inquiry. Instead, he continued to scrutinize the man before him, this figure he hesitated to call his father. There was an unmistakable sense that this being transcended the boundaries of normal human existence—his expressions, posture, and aura conveyed an illusory quality that demanded Jaegar's heightened attention.

His instincts signalled a need to remain acutely attuned to every nuance.

Angus, echoing a deep resonance that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, chuckled in response. He looked at Jaegar for a couple of seconds, as if trying to understand him. He didn't know why he asked such a question right after meeting him. Ever since their first meeting, Jaegar somehow seemed like he hated him and had never seen him like a father; he knew that.

Ashfield was also confused by the question Jaegar asked, but he remained silent as it was best that he do.

Angus then affirmed, "Yes, of course."

Jaegar's brows betrayed a subtle twitch, a momentary lapse in his otherwise composed countenance.

Angus, keenly observant of his son's reactions, remarked, "You seem to have encountered many troubles of late. I simply came to check upon you."

Jaegar's brows furrowed at the cryptic notion of a check-up. Why would his father choose this moment, and for what purpose? The unspoken questions swirled in Jaegar's mind, but he refrained from vocalizing them.

Angus, his gaze filled with amusement, remarked, "You have grown up, huh. Your mother would have been proud."

The mention of his mother elicited a subtle twitch in Jaegar's eyes, a flicker of emotion that didn't go unnoticed by Angus. Suppressing the urge to respond, Jaegar restrained himself. He remained vigilant, recognizing the myriad uncertainties surrounding his mother's fate or vanishing act.

The inexplicable aura exuded by Angus, reminiscent of the unsettling presence in the maze, compelled Jaegar to maintain his composure.

Angus sat in his chair, watching his son for a while, as if he were thinking. He didn't say anything, as did Jaegar. They just stared at each other, and it felt like they had exchanged a million words.

For his part, Jaegar wanted nothing but to hold his father's collar and ask him where his mother was. What did he do with her? He was the last person to see her. But he can't just do as he pleases for now. He needs to stay level-headed and not act as he pleases. After all, the man in front of him is the commander of the Black Hounds Legion, a supreme wizard.

Angus, as if privy to Jaegar's inner musings, gracefully rose from his seat. With a nonchalant smile, he uttered, "Well, then I will take my leave. It was nice to see you,'son'."

Angus had come to the academy just to see Jaegar and how he was using his powers. After seeing him, Angus was disappointed. He didn't expect Jaegar to improve in the least. He was still below level 10, an apprentice, and his chaos arts were nowhere near perfect. Angus could tell that from just watching his for a few minutes, and this tells how perceptive Angus was.

But Angus could only detect his lightning ability and purple chaos art. He didn't know about the other power residing inside him.

And with that, Angus exited the room, leaving behind an air of lingering intrigue. As the door closed, the room gradually resumed its customary tranquility, yet Jaegar couldn't shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter with his enigmatic father had unravelled more questions than answers.

As Angus emerged from the academy, a sinister grin was etched across his face. Muttering under his breath, he remarked, "He must have learned something from that bitch."

A wicked chuckle escaped his lips as he mounted his horned laigur. With a swift motion, they ascended into the air, disappearing into the vast expanse above. The echoes of his laughter lingered, leaving an ominous trace in the atmosphere.

That bitch he was referring to was Agatha, and the strange question about his mother hinted that Jaegar must have learned something about his mother, but Angus was sure that Jaegar didn't know that his mother was alive.

*

After Angus left the academy, Jaegar walked out of the office, deep in thought.

Ashfield didn't stop him, as he knew it was best not to meddle in the affairs of the imperial house.

Jaegar's footsteps echoed through the empty corridors as he retraced his path back to the dormitories. The encounter with Angus, his elusive father, left a trail of questions lingering in Jaegar's mind like elusive shadows.

Stopping in a quiet corridor, he leaned against the cool stone wall, his thoughts a tumultuous sea. His mother's disappearance, Angus's unexpected visit—it was as if the threads of fate were being woven into a complex tapestry, and Jaegar was left grappling with the loose ends.

He closed his eyes, attempting to clear the fog of uncertainty that enveloped him. The memories of his mother, the mysterious hints from the goddess, and the enigmatic aura of Angus intertwined, creating a web of intricacies that eluded his understanding.

The questions piled up, threatening to drown him in a sea of ambiguity. Why did Angus appear now? What was the purpose of his visit? Where was Jaegar's mother?

Frustrated with the lack of answers, Jaegar sighed, the sound echoing in the empty corridor. The academy, once a haven of magical learning, now felt like a labyrinth of unanswered queries. With a resigned acceptance, Jaegar resumed his journey back to the dorm, as they were all leaving today.

The academy echoed with the commotion of students bidding farewell, a cacophony of emotions reverberating through the air. The final year students of all groups were now outside, biding farewell to each other as they were leaving the academy.

Jaegar, Pierre, and Jennifer stood outside the imposing gates, their faces reflecting a myriad of sentiments—anticipation, nostalgia, and a tinge of sadness.

Pierre, a steadfast friend, enveloped Jaegar in a tight hug. "Remember, visit my home after the break. It won't be the same without you, mate," Pierre said, a hint of jest in his voice.

Jaegar nodded, appreciating the warmth of friendship that had endured the trials of their time at the academy.

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As the trio bid farewell, promising to keep in touch after today, they made their way back to the station. The atmosphere was charged with the bittersweet symphony of parting words, laughter, and even a few tears. Students embraced, exchanged contact information, and pledged to reunite when the academy reopened its gates.

Once Pierre and Jennifer boarded the train, Jaegar lingered at the station, watching as the locomotive whisked away his friends. He felt a sense of solitude settling in, but there was a purpose burning within him—an urgency to seek answers and confront the mysteries surrounding his existence.

With a determined expression, Jaegar summoned the magic within him, opening a portal that shimmered with ethereal light. The cabin atop the mountain peak awaited, a haven where his mother once lived. Jaegar stepped through the portal, emerging in the serene surroundings of his secluded refuge.

He took his luggage, placing it near the cabin entrance. The mountain air carried a sense of tranquility, but Jaegar's thoughts were far from calm. The unresolved issues with his father, the cryptic messages from the goddess, and the lingering emotions about his mother.

In the quiet of the cabin, Jaegar found solace, and yet, his inner turmoil persisted. The weight of his responsibilities, the enigma of his mother's fate, and the uncertainties of the future pressed upon him. With a heavy heart, he set out towards the familiar site—the grave that held a piece of his mother's story.

The air atop the mountain peak was crisp as Jaegar approached the grave. The dense forest surrounded the mountain, creating an intimate haven for his thoughts.

The gravestone, weathered by time, bore the inscription:

"Augusta Ambrose, a loving mother and Chaos witch."

Jaegar's fingers gently traced the engraved letters, lost in contemplation. The memories of his mother, the mysterious circumstances surrounding her disappearance, and the recent encounter with his enigmatic father weighed heavily on his mind.

The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying a sense of both solace and uncertainty. Jaegar stood there for a while, silently watching the gravestone, surrounded by the rustling leaves.

A solemn atmosphere enveloped him as he contemplated the mystery of his mother's disappearance.

His mind, a tumultuous sea of thoughts, sought answers in the arcane powers at his command.

With a raised hand, Jaegar conjured a square-shaped sigil on his palm.

Then the leaves scattered on the ground stirred, animated by the unseen forces he wielded. They transformed into spectral hands, ethereal extensions of his magical abilities. In an intricate dance, the hands began to dig into the earth, unravelling the secrets buried beneath.


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