In this memory, Lind seemed to travel through time and witness Alice's mother with his own eyes.
Her face was clearly visible, strikingly similar to Alice's, making one marvel at the wonder of genetics.
Linde gazed at her, his pen flying across the paper as he poured out his heart.
After finishing the letter, Linde carefully checked it to confirm that its contents were accurate.
However, who would end up with this letter? Linde pondered to himself, knowing that only time would tell.
Sure enough, after the dean handed the letter to Carsas, everything began to become confusing.
Just as Carthus was preparing to embark on his journey, a person who was completely unexpected suddenly appeared in front of him.
This man called himself Tripoli and said he was an Oc.
His appearance surprised Carthus, but what shocked him even more was that Tripoli offered him a condition he couldn't refuse—a mage tower of his own!
Faced with such a huge temptation, Carsas's reason was instantly overwhelmed by desire.
He agreed to Tripoli's request without hesitation, completely unaware that he had become a pawn in someone else's game.
At this point, the matter seemed to have been settled.
However, this is only a superficial phenomenon.
Casas was nothing but a fool being used; the real mastermind, Tripoli, had long been hiding in the shadows, manipulating everything.
Linde moved away from that brief, hazy memory, and his consciousness refocused on the dim fireplace light in the study.
"My memory is correct; the letter was indeed written by the dean himself, and its contents should not have been altered."
Linde muttered to himself, his fingertips lingering in the faint light left by the deconstruction halo as he carefully examined the letter that had been unsealed and unfolded.
Every character, every subtle magical fluctuation of ink, is laid bare under the aura's keen observation.
After confirming that there were no more physical or magical traps, he carefully folded the letter and put it into a specially made metal box that was protected from magical detection.
Without further delay, he picked up the letter box and strode toward Alice's workshop tower.
The magical glow of the laboratory atop the tower, like a lighthouse, stood out starkly against the backdrop of the castle on a winter night.
Pushing open the half-closed tower door, Alice was engrossed in a workbench covered with complex energy circuit diagrams, her brows furrowed, and her fingertips gleaming with a faint arcane light, as if she were performing extremely precise calculations.
Hearing the noise, she looked up, her gray-blue eyes freezing for a moment when she saw the letter box in Lind's hand, followed by an undisguised worry and a hint of anticipation.
"Linde?" Her voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tension.
Linde walked to her side, and instead of immediately handing her the letterbox, he first recounted the entire incident in the clearest and calmest tone:
The strangeness of Carsas's visit, his use of the deconstruction halo to detect its anomaly, his doubts upon receiving the letter, his thorough "deconstruction" scan of the letter itself, his discovery of the hidden deadly neurotoxin "Whispers of the Ghost," and how he precisely decomposed and erased it.
Finally, he mentioned the most crucial part—using the deconstruction halo to trace fragments of the letters' past.
“I saw the person who wrote the letter,” Lind’s voice was low and certain. “She does resemble you by seven or eight points, with a calm yet powerful demeanor, carrying a sense of…wisdom that allows her to control the whole situation. She wrote this letter alone in her study, her expression focused, even carrying a hint of barely perceptible fatigue and determination.”
This letter was indeed written to you by your mother.
Alice held her breath, her fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the table.
Lind continued, "But the problem lies in the delivery process. Before Casas could receive the letter and set off for Blackrock Territory, he was stopped by an Ork man who claimed to be from Tripoli."
He described the vague yet powerful silhouette of the Orc from his memory.
"Tripoli offered Carthus an irresistible offer—a mage tower exclusively for him. The temptation was so great that it was enough to drive Carthus, a mediocre mage frustrated in the academy, to take the risk."
He readily agreed to Tripoli's demand, which was to embed the deadly 'Whispers of the Ghost' poison within the sealing wax of the letter.
Alice's face turned pale instantly, her anger and worry mingling like ice and fire.
“Tripoli…” she murmured the name, a cold glint in her grey-blue eyes.
"The Orcs... the pro-war faction? Or some force that covets the Crystal Remains technology, or hates Mother's research? Carthus! That fool! Bought off with just a tower!"
She gritted her teeth, then suddenly looked at Linde, her eyes filled with lingering fear, "That poison..."
“Don’t worry,” Lind held her slightly cold hand, conveying a firm strength, “I have completely broken down the toxins, and the letter is now safe.”
Alice paused, her eyes filled with undeniable concern, "But before that, let me see you."
Before Lind could react, Alice stepped forward, cupped his face in her hands, and her deep purple eyes, like the most precise probes, carefully examined his pupils, complexion, and the faint magical fluctuations around him.
At the same time, a gentle yet irresistible spiritual force, like the softest warm current, entered Lind's body through his palm and quickly traveled along his magic circuits.
Linde was taken aback by her sudden, protective "examination," but then felt a warm and vibrant energy flow through his body, dispelling the chill brought on by anger and lingering fear.
Lind did not resist; instead, he closed his eyes slightly, allowing Alice's power to explore his body. He could feel the gentleness and purity of that power, without any aggression, only full of protective intent.
After a moment, Alice's tense nerves finally relaxed, and she let out a soft sigh: "Very good, there are no toxins left, and the magic circuit is very stable." Only then did she release her grip and solemnly place the metal letter box on the workbench in front of Lind.
"Now it is safe. Read, Alice. See what message your mother, in the eye of the storm, has sent us."
Linde's tone was calm and steady, carrying a sense of support.
Alice took a deep breath, trying to calm her turbulent emotions.
She looked at Lind with gratitude, a glance that contained a thousand words—trust in his timely discovery of the conspiracy, reliance on his thorough protection, and peace of mind at his company.
She reached out her slightly trembling hand, opened the letter box, and took out the letter containing her mother's handwriting and unknown information.
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