Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Chapter 2171: Adam’s Paranoia

The orchestra’s melody flowed around them.

Adam took his first step. Then another.

He followed the movements Genevieve had been teaching him throughout the past week, carefully guiding her across the dance floor.

His steps were smooth, his posture straight, and his movements graceful for someone who had spent more time honing his swordsmanship rather than learning ballroom dances.

Adam had told Genevieve that dancing was no different from swordsmanship. Both required rhythm, balance, precise footwork, and an understanding of the person moving before you. Every step had to be measured. Every movement had to flow naturally into the next. The only difference was that one ended with applause, while the other ended with blood.

Genevieve had been speechless when he had said those words to her.

Presently, the two moved in harmony with the music, turning and gliding across the floor alongside the other couples.

Genevieve’s smile never faded. For once, Adam wasn’t thinking about conspiracies, dangerous enemies, or his endless pursuit of knowledge and strength. He was simply dancing with her.

"What?" Adam asked softly.

"Nothing," Genevieve whispered. "I’m so grateful to have you in my life. And I love you. More than anything."

Adam was about to reply, but she leaned over and kissed him.

Now, Adam was really taken aback. He knew that Genevieve had reservations about public displays of affection such as this. She was a shy girl, deep down. But today, she had been... bold.

Is she already drunk? He couldn’t help but wonder.

When they finally separated, Genevieve’s cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment. Only then did she realize that she had just kissed Adam in front of so many people.

Goodness! What came over me? She screamed inside her mind.

Flustered, she quickly cleared her throat and changed the subject, subtly gesturing toward the distinguished delegates seated beside the Witch of Davos.

"See that gentleman sitting to Emily Damon’s right? The one with the golden brooch?"

Adam stared at her with a smirk, then followed her gaze. "The fellow with the white beard?"

"No, darling, the one beside him."

"Ah, that one."

"That’s Emir Rashid al-Qamar, the chief representative of Al-Qalimar," Genevieve explained. "He’s known for his diplomatic skills and sharp business acumen."

"Hm." Adam gave a light nod. "Looks like a merchant to me."

Genevieve giggled. "Well, he does oversee several of Al-Qalimar’s most prosperous trade routes. So you aren’t entirely wrong."

She subtly shifted her gaze toward another figure sitting farther down the table.

"The woman beside him is Lady Eveline Ashford, the representative from Greyreach. She’s a prominent Magus and a member of one of Greyreach’s oldest noble families."

Adam glanced at the elegant woman in question. "Certainly looks the part," he murmured.

"That is Rafael de Monteverde from Montecito," Genevieve continued, indicating a silver-haired gentleman exchanging pleasantries with another delegate. "He’s famous for his family’s vineyards and their contributions to magical research."

"Vineyards, hm?" Perhaps, in the past, Adam would have loved to make his acquaintance. Now he just didn’t care.

Genevieve gave him an amused look. "Already thinking of breaking your sobriety?"

"You certainly haven’t been making it easy for me." Adam laughed.

"Oh, shut it!" Genevieve pouted. "It’s my one and only indulgence in life. And I drink in moderation."

"Of course you do." Adam rolled his eyes.

Genevieve gasped, then was unable to rein in her laughter.

"Moving on," she said. "The man with the red sash is Lord Cassian Veluse, the representative from Territi. He’s a senior official in their government."

"Looks... stern," Adam commented.

"He is." Genevieve nodded. "I’ve heard he’s quite the stickler for etiquette."

"I’ll make sure to stay away from him, then," Adam said.

Genevieve suppressed a laugh before continuing.

"The gentleman with the silver spectacles is Octavian Voss, representing Bogotian. He’s a scholar specializing in ancient magical civilizations."

"Ancient civilizations?" Adam’s interest was piqued.

"I thought you’d be interested," Genevieve said with a fond smile. "I know a friend who knows a friend who works for Magus Voss. I’ve already spoken to her. She said she could squeeze in a few minutes with the man."

"Really?" Adam was surprised. "You’ve already made arrangements?"

"For you, love, anything." Genevieve smiled sweetly.

"...Thank—"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "You never have to thank me."

She winked at him before pointing toward the next delegate. "That young-looking man is Lucien Fairfax from Quelway. He’s one of the youngest representatives here tonight."

"The gentleman in the dark blue coat is Matthias von Eberstein, the representative from Tyrmonte. He’s known for his military background and his family’s long history of service in the Imperium’s army."

Adam studied the man with a measure of respect.

"And finally, the woman with the silver hair is Seraphina Frost, the representative from Winterdale. She’s a highly respected Magus known for her research into ice magic," Genevieve concluded.

"Frost," Adam murmured. "Yes, I’ve heard of her. Quite famous in the north."

He glanced at all of them chatting with the Witch of Davos. Emily Damon was still missing.

"Quite the gathering," he said. "How strong are they?"

"Maybe Elysian. Maybe Supreme. Nobody knows for certain," Genevieve answered truthfully. Suddenly, she let out a lazy yawn.

Adam glanced at her and frowned slightly. "Sleepy?"

"No, I’m fine." Genevieve shook her head.

As they returned to the rhythm of the dance, Adam glanced at the others on the floor. He noticed some of them were yawning as well. It was contagious. It was... dreadful.

Earlier, he had even noticed Professor Oakley yawning, ten minutes before he and Genevieve had arrived at the dance floor.

A premonition of foreboding welled up in his heart.

"Let’s return to our table," he said. Without waiting for Genevieve’s response, he pulled her away from the dance floor.

"Is everything all right?" Sensing something, Genevieve couldn’t help but ask.

"Yes, of course," Adam lied. "Let’s catch our breath for a minute, yeah?"

They arrived at the table. Adam found Professor Oakley yawning with groggy eyes. He casually sat next to him and asked, "Professor, how’re you feeling?"

The old man smiled warmly at Adam. "Fine, my boy. What a wonderful evening this is!"

Adam forced a smile. Looking around, he only found his two grandchildren eating at the table. "Where are your daughter and son-in-law?"

Channing Oakley turned to the dance floor and smiled. He yawned again. Then he replied, "Somewhere out there dancing."

He then turned to Genevieve and grasped her hand. "I saw you out there dancing, too. You both looked beautiful. Truly made for each other."

Genevieve hugged the old man and kissed him on the head. "What about you, Professor? Care to dance with me?"

Adam watched the old man come up with an excuse as he chatted with Genevieve.

His eyes turned solemn. The people around him were yawning, feeling tired and sleepy. But somehow, they were unaware of it.

More importantly, why wasn’t he affected?

"Wine, my lord?" A waiter appeared before him, carrying a tray full of wineglasses. His uniform was neat, and his appearance was prim.

Nothing suspicious about him whatsoever.

Except for his hands.

Adam’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he glanced at the waiter’s hands. He took a wineglass from the tray and nodded at him.

"Enjoy, my lord."

The waiter bowed, his manners impeccable. Then he moved on, serving wine to the other guests.

Adam glanced at the wineglass. Then he turned his attention to the waiter, his gaze settling on his palms.

This might have been his paranoia acting up, but his heart had turned cold with dread.

Why would a waiter’s palms be so hard and calloused?

What kind of waiter had hands that bore the marks of a lifetime spent wielding weapons rather than serving wine?