Farmer or Cultivator? Why not both?-Chapter 31: The Dressed Wolf

The ballroom of the Erindle Estate was filled with light. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting their glow across the marble floor. The music was soft, a waltz playing in the background. Men and women in fine clothes moved about the room, drinking and talking. The women wore colorful gowns, their jewels shining in the light. The men stood in their formal uniforms, making idle conversation.

It was the perfect place for a predator to hide, spy and steal information. The Nobles here practically vied for who could tell of their lives the most, giving out information in the process.

’Stupid narcissists.’ Maekin thought. Although he had had his fair share of aristocratic

gatherings, grew up with nobles and was a man of position himself, the pompous nature of nobles irritated him, even more so due the fact that these ones are his enemies.

Maekin had arrived three hours prior, his credentials impeccable, his manner refined, he blended in with the crowd. There was a reason he was the best bet for a reconnaissance mission, he could blend anyone, bending himself to fit any conditions needed.

He’d made the rounds, shaking hands with important figures, exchanging pleasantries with the wives of generals and the daughters of wealthy merchants. No one questioned his presence. Why would they? His shapeshifted form bore the face and bearing of Duke Talven, a minor noble from the southern provinces who’d sent word he would be attending. The real Duke Talven was in the bowels of dogs, probably passed out as feces now. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Maekin had worn that face since.

But the seer had been unexpected. Maldrin had grown quite wary since the happening at Tunish, raids and sabotage at towns and villages. The nobles were the most important figures in the nation, they were the web that held the country, and through them did the king wield power.

She was an old woman, her eyes clouded with age. Yet when she looked at him across the ballroom, Maekin felt his illusion begin to unravel. She could see through it. She could see what he truly was.

When their eyes met, Maekin saw her recognize him. He saw her mouth open. He saw her hand begin to rise.

He didn’t give her time to call for help.

The spell erupted from his body without warning. It was a blast of pure destructive energy, a wave of heat and force that tore through the ballroom. The chandeliers shattered. The orchestra’s instruments flew backward. Tables of food and wine exploded into pieces.

The screams began immediately.

But not all screams were the same.

From the edges of the ballroom, cultivators appeared. They had been hidden among the servants and guards. Their auras flared to life—blue, gold, red, and green—brilliant and terrible. Shields of crystallized mana formed around the nobles, barriers that held firm against the archmage’s explosion.

The shields held.

Some nobles fell. Those who were too far from the cultivators. But most of the gathered nobility survived. The cultivators had protected them.

Maekin’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. There were cultivators here—more than he’d expected. And they were protecting the nobles.

"Kill him!" A woman’s voice cut through the chaos. She moved with speed and power, her blue aura flaring bright.

The cultivators formed a circle around Maekin, closing in from all sides. There were at least fifteen of them. He could see their weapons: silversteel swords, mana-infused spears, twin daggers that crackled with electricity.

Maekin’s form rippled.

The duke’s face melted away. His body shifted and changed. The brown tan noble became a pale scrawny thing in oversized garments, eyes cold and sunken, this was Maekin’s true form. He was tall, at least two heads taller than all the hooded cultivators that surrounded him. Of course there were no mages around, important as the nobles truly were, mages were incredibly few and occupied with their military duties, not to mention that there were cultivators to feel the position of guards.

"Now you see what I truly am," Maekin hissed.

The cultivators attacked.

What followed was a battle that would later be called "heaven-defying." The cultivators surged forward, their auras clashing against the archmage’s . Maekin was fast—terrifyingly fast—he coated his body with lightning, an elemental feat that most cultivators struggled to replicate.

But he was alone.

One cultivator managed to score a hit with his sword, drawing blood from Maekin’s shoulder. The archmage screamed, and in as much as he looked inhuman, his lifeblood was red just like everyone else’s.

The battle climbed into the sky.

They rose above the ballroom, the cultivators and the archmage. Their auras painted the darkness in streaks of color—blue, gold, red, and green lighting up the night sky like aurora. Explosions of mana lit up the darkness as attacks clashed and blocked. One cultivator fell screaming back into the ballroom, crashing through the ruins of a fountain.

Still, they pressed forward.

Maekin had been powerful once, a master of magic in the service of Combec. But one archmage could not stand against so many cultivators. His body was flagging. The constant attacks were wearing him down.

In the end, one of the dominant cultivators got the better of him, driving a blade of ki into his back when he wasn’t looking. Maekin moaned in pain, the invigorating energy within him dissipated instantly, and he went limp, his body falling from the sky and crashing with a splat.

The cultivators descended slowly. Their auras dimmed as they returned to the ruined ballroom. They returned to calm the situation, and to control the flames.

The surviving nobles stared in horror at what remained of the beautiful ballroom. The ceiling had partially collapsed. The walls were scorched and cracked. Decorations were reduced to ash and rubble. Yet miraculously, most of the nobles had survived. The cultivators’ shields had protected them.

In the street outside, a tall figure in military dress watched the aftermath. Commander Vex was a decorated veteran. He’d been stationed in the city because of reports of Combec infiltration attempts. He’d been right to be cautious. He’d been right to request the cultivators.

But this was only one archmage. There could be others.

He turned to the captain at his side. "I want every member of the Erindle household questioned. Every servant, every guard, every family member. Someone let this creature into the city. Someone helped it get into the ball." His voice was cold. "And I want it done tonight. The crown will not be pleased with another assassination attempt."

"Yes, Commander," the captain saluted and hurried away.

Commander Vex looked back at the ruined ballroom. Someone on the inside had helped the archmage. If there was one conspirator, there could be others.

The hunt had only just begun.