Sylas, who usually spent this time in silence, looked at Wisteria and, for once, opened his mouth. He let out a laugh with unclear meaning and said, "Long time no see, Wisteria."
Wisteria did not reply. Her equally unmoving eyes stared vacantly at the air ahead, and her gaze did not even fall on Sylas once.
"It seems the Mageseekers' brainwashing of you was quite successful. I remember... you didn't talk this little back then."
Sylas chatted as though speaking to an old friend he had not seen in years. "You once discussed the mysteries of magic with me. We once stayed awake all night in a forest filled with magic. Have you forgotten all of that?"
His low voice echoed in the cell.
Perhaps those memories from the past had awakened Wisteria, because this time, she lowered her head slightly and looked at Sylas with disgust in her eyes. "That I was once friends with a vicious mage like you is the shame of my life."
The corner of Sylas's mouth curled into a smile, and he looked straight at her with a somewhat mocking gaze. "Looks like they've told you plenty of bad things about me. It doesn't matter if you refuse to acknowledge our friendship. But you should know, if not for you back then, I would never have been caught so easily. And if I had not been caught, you might not be in your current position now. The Mageseekers have never treated mages as people."
Those words stirred up Wisteria's anger. She stepped forward, raised her hand, and tightly pinched Sylas's cheeks, speaking in a vicious tone. "Catching you was my duty as a Mageseeker. As for that disgusting magic, I abandoned it long ago. Do you hear me?"
Her cold, disgusted eyes stabbed into Sylas's heart like knives.
Fifteen years truly could change far too many things.
The syringe pierced Sylas's skin, and the familiar pain pulled his attention away. He watched his blood being drawn out bit by bit until it filled the syringe.
After that, the syringe was taken away, the puncture was disinfected, and he was released.
Eldred, Wisteria, and the other Mageseekers did not look at Sylas again. They left directly.
The cell door was tightly shut.
Sylas slowly sat down by the wall, staring forward, his eyes flickering in the darkness. He could not help thinking of the smiling face his friend had once worn.
After a long while, he raised his hand. Suddenly, a surge of magic rippled over it, and a pale purple aura of magic lit up the surroundings.
Looking at the magic churning actively in his hand, gazing at that wondrous color he had not seen in so long, Sylas curled his mouth into a smile.
"Looks like you never truly abandoned it, Wisteria."
He clenched his right hand, and the magic immediately dispersed like smoke.
At that moment, an excited gleam flashed in Sylas's eyes.
His gaze turned toward the corner of the wall, and in the darkness, he faintly saw that wall brick.
The thing hidden behind it had not been wrong.
So the true function of petricite really was not to seal magic.
It was to absorb and store it.
It was only that very few people could use the magic stored inside petricite. In truth, many people throughout history had discovered this, but in the end, the true use of petricite had still been buried by time.
Others could not do it, but Sylas could.
Even if, before this, everything had been conjecture and every part of it had been an assumption, the instant he came into contact with Wisteria just now, he found the method.
If petricite was one point, and Wisteria was another point, then only when Wisteria released magic would the point that was petricite take effect and absorb that magic. Otherwise, its final effect would only be suppression.
But Sylas could serve as a new point between the two. His role was that, through direct touch, he could achieve the effect of absorbing magic.
And when the magic passed through his body and flowed into the petricite, he understood how to draw the magic back out again.
In some unseen way, this seemed to have an indescribable compatibility with his own ability.
That was why, at this moment, Sylas felt somewhat excited.
But very quickly, the surrounding darkness made Sylas's heart return to calm.
He leaned silently against the wall.
So what if he had discovered this secret?
It seemed to offer almost no help at all to his current situation.
Perhaps his fate would be the same as that predecessor's, imprisoned in this sunless cell to spend the rest of his life.
Tap, tap, tap.
At this moment, footsteps sounded outside once again.
"Your dinner for today."
The guard opened the cell door, delivered today's dinner, lit the torch, and then turned to leave.
The cell door was shut again.
Today's dinner was the same as yesterday's. Sylas got up and came to the meal, eating one mouthful at a time.
But his gaze was fixed on the door not far before him, the door that had imprisoned him for fifteen years. His eyes seemed as though they could see through it and glimpse the world outside.
He could no longer remember how long it had been since he last saw the night sky.
He simply felt, relying on memories of the past, that tonight's night sky must be very beautiful.
When would freedom finally come?
The yearning in his heart grew stronger and stronger.
Only, even Sylas had not expected that the chance to seek freedom would come so quickly.
In the blink of an eye, two days passed.
March 5.
The capital prison.
Every half month, aside from some prisoners guilty of the most heinous crimes, the criminals in the ordinary prison and the mage prison were given one chance to breathe fresh air.
By nine in the morning, mages escorted by guards slowly emerged from the dungeon entrance, every single one wearing heavy petricite shackles on their wrists.
Some had dim, lifeless complexions. Some were dull and wooden. Some had their eyes stung by the sunlight. But without exception, every face carried a visible layer of exhaustion.
The days locked in the dungeon were naturally hard to endure. No one could sleep peacefully inside.
Let alone a group of mages living in fear every day.
There were more than a hundred mages brought out for their time in the open. They were taken to an enclosed space on the other side of the exercise yard, like a flock of sheep penned in.
Multiple guards watched over them, and during this time, the mages were allowed to move around freely.
At this time, a running figure would appear in their eyes on the track to the left.
This scene had already become something the mages were used to seeing.
Many who knew Sylas's identity had recognized him earlier on.
Sylas of Dregbourne, once known as one of Demacia's most dangerous mages, a famously notorious figure.
The trouble he caused back then had shaken many people.
Now that such a figure was likewise imprisoned here, he was no different from a warning bell and admonition to all mages.
No one knew what great figure he had offended, but he had been punished to run nonstop on this track every day.
Over the past few months, they had seen this many times.
Otherwise, in the past, they would never even have been allowed to see a mage who had committed such serious crimes.
At this moment, the two guards responsible for watching Sylas were sitting in a patch of shade and chatting idly, while Warden Dierde had simply moved over a long chair and was lying on it to rest.
Naturally, he was not afraid that His Highness would discover this lazy work attitude.
He had already placed lookouts at the prison entrance. The moment His Highness came, he would receive the news here, so there was no need to worry at all.
As always, Sylas ran along the track. His body bathed in sunlight, and he felt his heart pounding powerfully again and again from the intense exercise. Only at times like this could he feel that he was alive.
When he calculated that the number of laps was about right, Sylas slowed down.
As he passed by the enclosure, a low voice drifted over faintly. "Sylas of Dregbourne. Do you still remember Liliana?"
The voice seemed aimed precisely at him, and the name it mentioned made Sylas's heart jump hard.
Sylas glanced left and right, slowly stopped, and looked toward the source of the voice.
The speaker was a man with wavy black hair, a thin, gaunt face, but bright eyes. He looked as if he had suffered no small amount of torment in this prison.
At this moment, the man was also looking at Sylas. He spoke again, very quickly. "Looks like you still remember her. We don't have many chances to talk like this, and this may even be the last time. So from here on, I speak, and you listen."
Sylas frowned slightly and glanced left and right again. For the moment, the guards had not noticed.
At the same time, a memory in his mind had also been stirred awake.
Liliana. This was both an unfamiliar and familiar name.
It was also a turning point in his life.
Fifteen years ago, Sylas had once worked for the Mageseekers. He possessed a special gift that allowed him to see magic, and so he had been valued by the Mageseekers.
For the first time in his life, Sylas felt that he had become useful. He carried out his mission firmly, hoping to spend his life loyally serving his country.
However, as time passed, Sylas saw Demacia more and more clearly. He discovered that magic existed far more commonly than Demacia was willing to admit.
Even among wealthy households and prestigious noble families, he could detect hidden glimmers of magic.
And some of those people were the most extreme representatives slandering mages.
Yet only magic-touched people of low birth were punished. Those high officials and nobles seemed to stand entirely above the law.
This hypocritical system planted the first seed of doubt in Sylas's mind.
Later, in one Mageseeker operation after another, Sylas became increasingly doubtful and suspicious of what he was doing now.
Until all those doubts finally erupted in a dangerous incident.
The mage the Mageseekers wanted to capture that time was a little girl not even ten years old. She was as weak and helpless as a newly hatched chick.
She was hiding in a thatched hut, trembling, and her level of magic was higher than that of an ordinary mage.
As Sylas came to understand the Mageseekers, he knew what awaited this little girl once she was taken away.
So he felt pity for the girl and wanted to protect her from being captured by the Mageseekers.
What followed, however, was an accidental touch. The girl's magic instantly surged into Sylas's body, and the magic erupted with a boom. Yet it did not kill him. Instead, it shot uncontrollably from his palm.
This was a gift he himself had never been aware of, and it also caused the Mageseeker squad acting with him to lose their lives on the spot.
Sylas knew he would definitely be treated as a murderer, so he began to flee, taking that little girl with him as well.
And that little girl's name was Liliana.
During their later flight, the Mageseekers' pursuit pressed closer and closer. Sylas knew very well that if he continued to escape while bringing Liliana with him, he would not be able to outrun the pursuit.
So he temporarily hid Liliana in a cave and prepared several days' worth of food for her.
He planned to return and take her away after shaking off the pursuers.
But that time almost became an eternal farewell.
Not even two days after that, Sylas was personally arrested by his best friend, Wisteria.
"After that, Liliana was found and adopted by a kind hunter couple. The Mageseekers were unable to find her."
At this moment, the man's low voice came again. "Liliana never forgot your kindness. Now, the Mageseekers' suppression of mages has become increasingly urgent. The space in which we can breathe is growing smaller and smaller, and more and more of our fellow mages are suffering. Over these years, Liliana has secretly gathered many mages. We need to rise up and resist Demacia's oppression of mages. But we need more powerful strength. And you, Sylas, the one who was praised back then as the most dangerous mage of all, we need you."
Hearing this, Sylas felt somewhat like laughing. "You and I are both prisoners now. What use is there in talking about all these things?"
"Whether you believe it or not, I was captured on purpose so I could meet you."
The man stared tightly at Sylas. "An opportunity, Sylas. What we need now is only an opportunity. Liliana cannot help you find this opportunity from outside, so... you can only think of a way yourself."
"Sylas, who gave you permission to stand there doing nothing?"
In the distance, one of the guards noticed Sylas and immediately stood up, shouting loudly.
Sylas, who had more to say but could not say it, looked at the man again, then continued running on the track.
On the surface, his expression was calm and unmoving, but in truth, stormy waves had already surged in his heart.
Memories from far too long ago had been awakened, and even now, Sylas was still somewhat dazed.
The sudden appearance of the name Liliana was indeed unexpected enough for Sylas.
Counting the time, the little girl from back then had probably already grown up.
She had secretly gathered a group of mages and intended to resist Demacia's oppression.
Where were these mages now?
Could they have already arrived in the capital?
An opportunity?
What kind of opportunity?
The conversation just now had been too short, and they had spoken about too little. Many parts were still foggy and unclear, and he could not even confirm whether what the man had said was true or false.
However, at this moment, Sylas smelled the scent of freedom.
He had to consider whether this would be the only chance in his life.
Would he continue to spend the rest of his life in this dungeon, or would he risk everything and seek one thread of freedom?
It seemed that the moment these two choices appeared, Sylas's heart had already settled on an answer.
Freedom.
He yearned for freedom too much.
The current him longed for freedom more than anything else.
Sylas had already had enough of a gray, lifeless existence.
So when this man appeared, to Sylas, he was already an opportunity.
Whether true or false, he was prepared to risk everything.
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