Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Chapter 1155: Storm King’s Anguish

Caleport, Acadian Empire.

This was a major coastal city of the Empire, built around a wide crescent-shaped bay that served as one of the busiest ports in the lands.

Its location made it a hub for trade, naval power, and cultural exchange, with ships from every province docking at its harbor. The streets here were well-planned and fortified, lined with markets, guild halls, and barracks that reflected both its commercial wealth and its military importance.

At the center of the city, the Tower of Daybreak rose to the skies, seemingly piercing the clouds and reaching towards the heavens. It was one of the Four Pillars of the Acadian Empire.

Constructed from pale limestone and strengthened by magic, the tower caught the first light of dawn and reflected it across the city. Beyond its role as a landmark, the Tower also functioned as the seat of governance for the entire city.

The atmosphere in the city was bustling as usual, its streets alive with the hum and chatter of daily life. Yet beneath the noise and motion, there was a subtle tension in the air.

Ravenfell, the oldest pillar of the Empire, had just been attacked a few months ago by foreign forces. As a result, the city was razed to the ground. So the people of Caleport couldn’t help but wonder if their city might share the same fate.

That is why the city guards patrolling the streets had grown in numbers. Moreover, the security checkpoints placed on both land and along the harbor had tightened their inspection of all who sought entry to the city.

Inside the Tower, the classes continued as usual and the day to day life of students and the faculty members hadn’t changed all that much. However, it was undeniable that a constant shadow always lingered over these Magi.

They had all read reports of what had transpired in Ravenfell, and the events leading up to the Battle of Ravenfell. Needless to say, they were shocked and angered by the true identity of Adam Constantine.

Once hailed as the greatest genius of the Ulier Continent and revered as the Dark King, he had fallen from grace since that fateful day three months ago. His true, vile, and treacherous nature had been laid bare, leading the people to brand him anew as... the Deceitful One.

But every dark cloud carried a silver lining. Though Adam the Deceitful had fallen to the dark side, a new hero had risen amongst the scholars and Magi of the Tower of Daybreak.

At just thirty-five, Edward Turner achieved the rank of Mana Vortex Magus and was granted the title of the Storm King. He had become the true pride of the Tower, and this was something that the Magi and the residents of Caleport found great joy in.

However, the man in question did not bother about such trivialities at all. While others rejoiced in pride at the rise of a new King from the Tower, Edward had spent the past three months drowning in the pits of despair, his heart consumed by constant confusion and sorrow.

On one of the upper floors of the Tower, Lisa, Biden, and a few others had gathered before a pair of arched doors. Most of these Magi were students of the tower, though a few faculty members were present as well.

The room they waited outside belonged to none other than the Storm King, Edward Turner.

Ever since returning from the Battle of Ravenfell, the youth had not once stepped out of his room. He had shut himself away, speaking to no one except, on extremely rare occasions, his grandfather Edwin Turner and his lover, Lisa de Grace.

Everyone at the Tower understood why Edward behaved this way. He was, after all, Adam Constantine’s childhood friend and sworn brother, so Adam’s betrayal cut deeper for him than for anyone else.

And so, since his return, Edward had shut himself away, drowning in misery behind locked doors.

The room was a wreck, the once orderly chamber was now buried beneath the debris of its master’s despair. There were shards of shattered glass, overturned shelves, sprawled out tomes, and scrolls on the floor.

Fragments of broken furniture lay scattered everywhere like the remnants of a... storm.

Ink had bled across the floorboard, mixing with splashes of wine and ale from toppled bottles, leaving dark stains that seeped into the rugs and wood.

Amidst the chaos, in the dimmest corner of the room, sat a lone figure. His robes were disheveled, his hair was unkempt, and his shoulders were trembling as muffled sobs escaped his lips from time to time.

In his hand, Edward clutched a small black-and-white portrait, gripping it so tightly that it seemed ready to tear. His tear-filled eyes were fixated on the image, as though it was the last fragile thread keeping him from falling into complete ruin.

The portrait showed three little children.

On the left stood a boy with raven black hair, his eyes glinting with mischief as he picked his nose with a pinky finger, clearly uninterested in the photo being taken.

At the center was a chubby boy beaming so brightly that the fat on his cheeks pressed against his eyes, turning them into cheerful slits.

Beside him stood a young girl with twin ponytails, her arms crossed as she eyed the boys with open displeasure.

Adam, Edward, and Lisa.

The photo had been drawn during their first year at Clover Academy...

Tears splattered on the portrait as they slid down the Storm King’s face. He gritted his teeth, and in a voice filled with grief and anguish, he muttered:

”Bastard... why...”

For the last couple of months, Edward had barely eaten or slept, and he had not once stepped out of his private chambers. He also didn’t let anyone in—not even his grandfather and Lisa.

For the last three months, he had scoured through his memories again and again, scrutinizing them so obsessively that it almost drove him mad. There were memories inside his head that he believed to be true, and then there were memories that were actually true.

Untangling the two had become an impossible task. And with every attempt, he was forced to relive the times he had spent with his sworn brother, Adam. And every time he recalled them, his heart ached, leaving him drowning in pain and sorrow.

”I... don’t know...” He mumbled as tears trickled down his face.

His gaze lingered on the raven-haired youth in the portrait, and he murmured:

”I don’t know what to believe in anymore...”

Right at that moment, there was a commotion at his doorstep. Edward couldn’t help but frown as he raised his head and gazed at the arched doors. He had given strict orders not to be disturbed, yet now someone was trying to force their way into his room.

Edward’s frown deepened and the next moment...

BAM!

The doors slammed open, and a figure stormed inside. Edward’s eyes flared with displeasure as he shot to his feet, shouting, ”Who the hell do you—”

But his words died in his throat the moment he saw the intruder. His eyes widened in shock, and he blurted out:

”Mother?!”