Aozaki Aoko Case File [481] (Patreon)

Doric, in owlbear form, was nearly overwhelmed. The Neverwinter guards were numerous and acting strangely—they seemed even more suicidal than expected, some even drooling madly.

Not even Holga’s barbarian rage compared to this; Doric realized magic must be at work.

She fought the guards ruthlessly, but they kept coming. The longer the fight, the less rational they became.

Simon tried to dispel whatever magic was on them but failed.

Desperate, Simon donned the helmet.

Time slowed as he entered the interdimensional space. The old Aumar family mage, staff in hand and helm on head, appeared again.

“Heh, look who’s back, hmm?” the old mage taunted. “Future great warlock, ha!”

“I don’t have time for your crap—” Simon glanced at Doric, fighting for her life.

“But I have all the time I want,” his ancestor said. “Until you pass my test.”

“What are you doing?!” Simon shouted. “You’re just a memory stuck in this crappy helm—if you keep blocking me, we’ll die!”

“Then die, like a fool,” the old mage sneered. “Better to die like an idiot than live like a moron!”

“That’s enough!” Simon snapped, especially after the mage insulted Doric. “You don’t know me, or Doric—how can you say that!”

“Tch, the great Aumar family, sullied by trash like you!” The old mage glanced contemptuously at Doric’s owlbear form.

“As long as I live, you’ll never attune to this helm. You’re not worthy!” The old mage’s attitude was clear—they were done pretending.

“Fuck you!” Furious, Simon punched the old mage. Though not strong, the blow knocked off the mage’s turban.

And to his shock—the face beneath was Simon’s own!

The mage’s gray hair turned black, his wrinkled skin smoothed. Simon realized: this test was about self-acceptance. He had passed. The mage’s image faded, and time returned to normal.

Simon had attuned to the helmet of disjunction!

“Aoko, I’m using the helm facing southwest!” Simon sent a message to Aoko at the arena, counted to ten, then cast the spell.

Mordenkainen’s Disjunction!

A fan-shaped wave of magic surged from the helm, knocking out all the guards in the corridor—even Doric’s massive owlbear form was swept aside.

Doric was forced out of owlbear shape, got up, and looked at Simon in amazement—she hadn’t expected him to succeed.

“You did it!” Doric cheered, slapping Simon’s shoulder. “That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I thought we were doomed, haha~” Simon grinned. “And the Mordenkainen's arcane seal is destroyed—let’s go!”

Doric nodded, and together they pushed open the huge vault door, entering Neverwinter Castle’s treasury.

—Scene Break—

Back at the arena, Aoko paused on the fourth floor. “Simon’s in the vault—looks like we didn’t let Elminster down.”

“Hah! I knew that kid would do it!” Edgin cheered. “If he can manage a 7th-level reverse gravity, what can’t he do?”

“Then the rest is up to us,” Xenk said, looking at the ceiling. “I sense a great evil above—Sofina must be about to act!”

Holga wasted no time, smashing open the locked door to the fifth-floor VIP stands with her axe.

On the fifth floor, Aoko spotted Sofina floating above the high-rollers’ tables. She had dropped all pretense, wearing a red robe and holding a magic horn, chanting an obscure ritual.

Between Aoko’s party and Sofina was a group of bald Thayans, their hoods down.

Aoko immediately summoned all her tower guardians and ordered the attack, then used Misty Step to leap past the Thayans, reaching Sofina first.