The Glitched Mage

Chapter 61 - 61: The Duke’s Nightmare Part 1

The last remnants of his nightmare clung to Riven's skin like a lingering shadow. His breath evened, his heartbeat settling into its steady, controlled rhythm. The weight of the mausoleum returned—stone, dust, and silence. His generals stood at the edges of the chamber, waiting.

"Good, you're awake," Nyx said, arms crossed, her dark eyes flicking over him. "Are you alright?"

Riven rubbed his neck, the phantom weight of the nightmare still pressing against his skin. The skill had latched onto his subconscious like a leech, pulling forth memories he had buried long ago. Abyssal Nightmare was powerful—far stronger than he had anticipated.

"I'm fine." Riven sighed after a moment. "At least I know now that it works… perhaps a little too well."

Nyx reached down and pulled Riven to his feet with ease, her grip firm yet careful. Before he could fully regain his bearings, Aria was already at his side, a delicate handkerchief—embroidered with fine silver thread—materializing in her grasp as if summoned from thin air. Without hesitation, she dabbed away the sweat clinging to his skin, her movements smooth and practiced.

Riven arched a brow at her. Where does she even keep these things?

"That's great news, my liege," Krux said, flashing a sharp grin. "While you were wrestling with that nightmare, we were working out the finer details of how to get you out of the academy unseen and how we're breaking into the Duke's estate."

Riven took the cool crystal cup Aria handed him—filled with refreshingly chilled water, of course—and took a slow sip. The moment the cold liquid touched his tongue, he cast a sidelong glance at her.

"…And where exactly are you getting all of this?"

Aria merely smiled, sipping from her own delicate teacup as if that answered everything.

Nyx chuckled. "Don't question it. Just accept it."

Riven shook his head, setting the cup down before fixing his gaze on them. "Alright, and did you actually come up with a working plan?"

Nyx's smirk widened. "Of course. Everything is in place."

"Alright," he said, his voice regaining its usual sharpness. "Let's hear it."

Nyx leaned against the stone table, arms folded. "The academy's wards are strong, but not impenetrable. Sana found a weak point near the eastern wall—a section where the enchantments are old and fraying. It's the perfect exit."

Sana stepped forward, her voice as smooth as ever. "The library is close to that section, and it's training rooms are open all night. If you send a shadow clone there to make it seem like you're training, no one will question it."

"Simple misdirection," Aria added, setting her teacup down with a quiet clink. "Your presence will be accounted for, and if anyone does happen to check, they'll find your clone hard at work."

Krux grinned. "And while your little illusion keeps the academy busy, we slip out through the weakened ward and make our way to the Duke's estate. Quick, clean, and no one even knows you're gone."

Riven nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad." His gaze flicked to Sana. "And the security in the capital? What are we dealing with?"

She tilted her head slightly. "The city gates won't be an issue. The academy's insignia allows free movement for students, and my sources confirm that tonight's guard shift is particularly lax. Once you're inside, Deveroux's estate will be the only challenge."

Nyx tapped a map she had unrolled on the table. "The Duke's mansion is well-guarded, but nothing we can't handle. His security detail is standard—mercenaries mixed with a few low mana circle guards. The biggest problem is the enchanted barriers around his personal quarters."

Aria traced a finger over the map's markings. "They're strong but not complex. Given enough time, I can disable them."

Krux cracked his knuckles. "Or I can just smash through."

Nyx shot him a deadpan look. "Yes, because breaking into the Duke's estate by brute force won't make him suspicious at all."

Krux grinned. "Just saying, if subtlety fails, we have options."

Riven chuckled. "Let's keep that as Plan B."

His mind raced through the strategy, weighing each detail. The plan was solid. Nyx says Deveroux is known for his pragmatism—he wouldn't listen to empty promises, but he would listen to power. That's where Abyssal Nightmare came in.

If the Duke doubted him, he'd make sure the man had no choice but to believe.

Riven exhaled, his decision made. "Alright. Let's move."

—x—

They moved through the academy grounds like ghosts, slipping between the shadows cast by the towering buildings. The night was their cover, the dim torchlight flickering across the stone walls failing to catch their silent movements.

Only once Riven reached the concealed corner near the library entrance did he raise his hand. The inky darkness coiled at his fingertips before unfurling like a living entity, seeping from his palm and taking shape.

A perfect replica of himself emerged, its features identical, but its posture reeked of that insufferable arrogance his shadow clones always seemed to have. It tilted its head, eyes gleaming with faint amusement before rolling its eyes, feigning disinterest.

Riven barely resisted the urge to punch it.

Instead, he clenched his fist and exhaled through his nose. Not worth the mana waste. His clone gave him one last lazy glance before striding into the library without hesitation.

Reaching out through their connection, Riven tapped into the clone's vision. His senses flickered, shifting as he observed through its eyes. The moment it stepped inside, heads turned—students, scholars, and mages-in-training casting curious glances.

Nothing unusual. He was used to the stares.

The clone moved with deliberate ease, its every action a careful mimicry of Riven's usual behavior. It strode up to the guards, brushing its talisman across their plaques. A brief shimmer of runic light passed over before granting access.

With practiced nonchalance, the clone ascended the staircase, its gaze drifting over the bookshelves as if

Calling it a mansion would be an insult. It was a fortress of opulence, more akin to a castle than a noble's residence. Its sprawling grounds stretched across a vast portion of the district, enclosed by a towering blackstone wall reinforced with layers of protective magic. At its heart, the main estate stood like a monument of wealth and influence, its white marble façade gleaming even beneath the moonlight, its numerous towers and spires piercing into the sky like the fingers of some ancient giant.

Massive iron gates sealed off the entrance, their elaborate design laced with golden runes that shimmered with layered enchantments. Beyond them, the estate grounds unfolded like a royal palace, with statues carved from obsidian and jade, manicured gardens sprawling with exotic flowers, and fountains made of enchanted crystal, their water glowing faintly in the dark.

Even from this distance, Riven could sense it—the weight of wealth, of power, of a kingdom within a kingdom.

He smirked. Let's see how unshakable Deveroux really is.