Chapter Forty-Four: Sero's Cloak

Chapter Forty-Four: Celos’ Cloak

It was said that the most heavily guarded part of the Royal Library was its outer perimeter. As reception staff, Shen Ce and Celos could bypass this initial barrier, but once inside, leaving midway would become an unavoidable challenge. Yet the greatest test lay ahead: how could they reach the ninth floor?

To properly discuss the matter of searching for information on the ninth floor, Shen Ce immediately returned with Celos to their quarters. With too many eyes and ears outside, Shen Ce had no desire to hasten his own demise. Since Celos had insisted that the two examiners be selected together, the person in charge had simply assigned them adjacent rooms. Thus, within the royal residence, Shen Ce and Celos were separated by just a single wall, living in the most remote corner of the estate, where even seeing another soul was rare.

At this moment, Shen Ce was racking his brains on how to infiltrate the ninth floor. The first issue—leaving midway—did not seem insurmountable. From the current situation, it appeared that his role as a host was entirely dispensable in the eyes of the Elven Queen; as long as Celos was present, all would be well. The real challenge was the second problem, for which Shen Ce, no matter how he pondered, could not find a satisfactory solution.

Seeing Celos so composed and unhurried, Shen Ce decided to share his thoughts: “Celos, the day after tomorrow, once we’re inside the library, you distract the Elven Queen while I look for information on how to reach the Demon Territory.”

“You’ll look for it? Do you have a way into the ninth floor?” Celos propped his chin in a languid hand, his tone almost careless.

Shen Ce hesitated. He had always felt Celos possessed an advantage in this area. In his heart, Shen Ce was convinced Celos had some ambiguous connection to the official team behind “Heaven’s Dominion.” “Celos, have you already come up with a plan?”

Celos detected a hint of interrogation in these words, and his lips curled in mocking amusement. “Even if I do know, why should I tell you?”

He spoke in Shen Ce’s own cold, distant manner, so perfectly mimicking him that the resemblance was uncanny.

Shen Ce’s brows drew together. He couldn’t understand why Celos had grown so inscrutable, as if something had shifted since they had welcomed the Elven Queen. Perhaps it was because he’d advised Celos not to become infatuated with her and somehow angered him? Yet Celos had said before that he harbored no romantic feelings for the Queen, and from what Shen Ce knew of him, Celos would never stoop to lying.

Celos, seeing Shen Ce remain silent, sighed inwardly and stepped closer, his gaze sharp as a blade. “If I refuse to say, won’t you even try to persuade me?”

“How should I persuade you?” Shen Ce’s frown deepened. He had never begged anyone for anything, yet as he looked into Celos’s eyes—dark as the abyss—he found himself asking that absurd question.

Celos drew even closer, an intangible aura pressing down until Shen Ce could scarcely breathe. Instinctively, Shen Ce wanted to retreat, but he forced himself to hold his ground, sensing somehow that he could not afford to anger Celos now—though he could not say why that word, “anger,” came to mind.

Celos observed Shen Ce with evident interest, noting the stiffness of his posture. For a human with decent talent but lesser constitution, to withstand Celos’s pressure to this degree was already impressive.

Celos smiled faintly; the previous chill in the air faded, replaced with an indescribable allure. His lips, thin and powerful, pressed together, stirring a dangerous urge in those who beheld him.

Yes—if the phrase “to savor the fragrance” could apply to men, then Celos exuded that nearly terrifying charm: strange, yet utterly captivating.

A tremor stirred in Shen Ce’s heart; his fingertips quivered as he lowered his gaze. How strange—just now, gazing at Celos, he felt that beneath the silver mask, Celos was even more arresting than the Elven Queen’s legendary beauty.

Celos, mischief in his eyes, leaned in still closer. As the silver mask drew near, a wave of unpleasant memories surged in Shen Ce’s mind. His eyes sharpened, but his actions outpaced thought—a small bolt of light flew to the ground at Celos’s feet and exploded.

The marble of the royal residence was of excellent quality; though scorched, it did not shatter. Fortunately, their remote rooms meant no others were disturbed, or the commotion might have drawn the attention of the guard NPCs.

Yet Celos did not retreat. Unperturbed, he let the light burst at his feet. Shen Ce had used only the barest hint of magic—less an attack than a warning.

And what was being warned, both men understood.

Celos’s mouth curled in amusement as he glanced at the charred mark. “What was that for?” Before Shen Ce could answer, Celos, like a cunning hunter, continued with a low laugh, “Did you think I’d kiss you again, like last time?”

Shen Ce stood frozen, awkward and confused, glancing at his priest’s staff and replying evasively, “Sorry, my hand slipped.”

It was an empty apology. Celos narrowed his eyes, unwilling to let the matter drop. “So you admit that’s what you were thinking?”

To expose such things seemed pointless to Shen Ce, but Celos was relentless in his teasing. Shen Ce forced himself to refocus—he’d acted too rashly just now, but he wouldn’t admit it. “Not at all. It was just a slip of the hand.”

“A slip of the hand?” Celos’s expression was both amused and derisive as he eyed the burn mark. “Zero, for a priest, you’re rather unqualified if you can’t control your own spells. I doubt you’ll achieve much.”

Shen Ce was unmoved by the taunt. His voice remained flat, tone even as always: “Celos, let’s discuss how to reach the ninth floor of the library.”

Celos found Shen Ce’s abrupt change of topic oddly exasperating. He turned away and sank into a chair. Shen Ce thought he was being dismissed, but then Celos tossed something his way.

It was—

Shen Ce unfurled the object: a silver cloak, almost identical to the one Celos often wore. In fact, it seemed exactly the same. “Celos, this is…”

Noticing Shen Ce’s puzzled gaze shifting between the cloak and himself, Celos’s irritation quickly vanished.

His voice was exceptionally calm. “You’re right. This is the one I used to wear. After you leave, put it on and think of the word ‘conceal’—no one will see you.”

Such a miraculous effect made Shen Ce regard the cloak with new respect. He shot a sidelong glance at Celos, then draped the cloak over his shoulders and focused on the word “conceal” in his mind. He felt no different, but looked at Celos uncertainly and approached him. “Celos, can you see me?”

Celos did not answer. His lips curved in a faint smile, but his gaze was unfocused. Shen Ce wondered if Celos could neither see nor hear him, and tried to circle behind him.

“Zero, stop moving,” Celos said, surprised by Shen Ce’s antics. He laughed aloud. “I am the cloak’s owner. Lending it to you doesn’t change that, so the invisibility doesn’t work on me.”

What Celos didn’t tell Shen Ce was that all forms of invisibility—whether by spell or by artifact—left traces of magical energy. To those with keen magical senses, even if they couldn’t see the invisible person, they could still sense their location.

However, Celos had already enchanted the cloak with his own magic. Even someone as skilled as the Elven Queen would not sense Shen Ce’s presence, nor would they suspect anyone was concealed nearby.

Hearing Celos’s explanation, Shen Ce felt a bit foolish for his earlier behavior. He slowly took off the finely patterned cloak. “So it’s settled: the day after tomorrow, you keep watch in the library, and I’ll search for information.” Without waiting for a response, Shen Ce quickly left the room. Sharing such a space with Celos made him deeply uncomfortable.

Time flew by, and the day of the Elven Queen’s visit to the Royal Library finally arrived. Everything went as planned: Shen Ce and Celos, in their roles as reception staff, easily made their way into the library.

Celos handled all explanations with the Elven Queen. Ever since the incident with the mural and the emergence of the elven tongue, Celos had spoken to her exclusively in her native language. Shen Ce, his mind elsewhere, had no interest in their conversation. What truly impressed him was the abundance of light magic in the Royal Library. If only he could train here year-round, it would be of immense benefit to any priest of the light.