I teleported us to a small, two-story house I''d purchased years ago under an alias to live far away from the magical world.


    As soon as we arrived, Carl collapsed to his knees beside me, gasping for air like a drowning man dragged ashore.


    “You should’ve left me,” he wheezed. “They won’t stop hunting you now.”


    “I wasn’t going to let you die,” I replied coldly, glaring down at him. “I need answers.”


    He didn’t answer right away, nodding slowly, his gaze distant, as though the memories had dragged him somewhere I couldn’t follow. “They have people everywhere, Aldric,” he murmured. “They just wanted something in the academy.”


    “And they probably got what they wanted,” I growled. “At the cost of my daughter’s life. At the cost of all of our students. Our colleagues!”


    Carl flinched, his whole body trembling under the weight of his guilt. “I’m sorry, Aldric. About everything. Truly.” His voice cracked. “They are the worst kind of bastards—and So am I. I couldn’t forsake my son to protect the academy. Not when I saw the way they tortured him… day after day…” His words trailed off, his focus slipping away.


    I stared down at him, my anger threatening to consume me entirely. “Why didn’t you tell me anything then?” I barked. “You knew I could help! We could have rescued him together!”


    Slowly, Carl raised his head, tears brimming in his red-rimmed eyes. “You don’t understand,” he whispered hoarsely. “They made sure even you wouldn’t be able to rescue him…”


    “What do you mean, Carl? What did they do?”


    His breath hitched, and he fought to steady himself before speaking. “Do you remember the wards from before? The ones that learn from you—the ones that adapt every time you strike them?”


    I nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.”


    “They’ve perfected them,” Carl whispered, his voice trembling. “The best wards they have don’t just adapt anymore, Aldric. They anticipate you. They were built with your magic in mind.”


    “Bastards.” I swore under my breath.


    “You don’t know the worst part yet, Aldric.” He murmured. “They wanted me to ask you for help. To lure you into their trap and get rid of you.” He inhaled sharply. “They promised they would send Letio back alive if I brought you to their base.” His face crumpled. “When I refused, they started torturing him… while making me watch, powerless by his side. That broke me, Aldric. I couldn’t do anything but watch.”


    I clenched my fist, my nails biting into my palms deep enough to draw blood. A indescribable fury churned in my chest.


    “You could have told me, we could have found a way out together,” I hissed. “Instead, you let them walk all over you, and now…” I struggled to say the words. “Now my daughter’s gone, and Letio’s…”


    Carl crumpled further, his head bowing as though the accusation crushed him. “Don’t you think I wanted to?!” he yelled suddenly, his voice raw. He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes, his face streaked with tears. “Don’t you think I wanted to beg you for help? But I didn’t want you to die! I knew you would have done anything to save my son!”


    “I tried to resist. I really did.” His body trembled violently as he gestured. “But they kept showing me what they were doing to him. They’d—” His voice cracked again, and he turned his back on me as though the memory physically hurt him.


    He stopped speaking for a long minute before turning back to me. “One day, when I was about to lose my sanity, they made another offer. They promised they would give my son back to me alive if I gave them access to the academy. At that time, I wasn’t thinking straight anymore. I just wanted this hell to end." He locked eyes with me. "Aldric I know what I did is unforgivable. I will atone for my crime with my life.”Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    I watched him in silence, unable to talk. If this had happened to me, I might not have been as resilient as him. But too many people died because of his choice.


    I couldn’t forgive him, but taking out my anger on Carl wouldn’t solve anything.


    Breath in. Breath out.


    “Your death won’t bring them back, Carl. Tell me everything,” I demanded. “Start from the beginning. I need to know exactly what they took, how they’ve done this, and what defenses I’ll have to face.”


    Carl hesitated, his mouth opening and closing.


    “Everything, Carl.” I leaned closer. “Every last detail. Because if there’s even a shred of hope to make them pay, I need to know everything.”


    He swallowed hard, his face pale as he nodded. “It wasn’t random—they knew who I was, what I could give them. They asked for access to your experimental vault.”


    “They were after something specific in my researches,” I muttered.


    “Yes.” Carl’s gaze dropped to the floor. “But I don’t know what.”


    I froze. Don’t tell me they did everything for my time magic? This is impossible I didn’t even tell Sherry about it!


    “They have it now, don’t they?” I asked, my stomach churning.


    Carl nodded. “They do. Whatever it is, they found it significant enough to kill all witnesses.”


    I turned toward the window. Outside, the night was still —a false calm before the storm. This battle wasn’t just about revenge anymore. If they had my researches, the stakes had risen far beyond our lives. But even if they had it, they wouldn’t be able to use it right away. It shouldn’t be too late if I turned back time now. Only, I would need to go back much further into the past.


    “They wanted me distracted.” My voice was calm now. “That’s why they killed my daughter. That’s why they targeted Letio. They knew I’d come after them eventually—and they made sure I’d be too angry, to think clearly.” I paused, "their only mistake was to keep you alive."


    Carl looked at me. “Aldric… Do you need more informations?”


    “Yes, I need to know about their defenses, the identities of all the members you know, the location of the base."


    He nodded and told me everything I needed to know about their secondary base. Codenames. Locations. Defenses. Passwords. Traps. Map of the base.


    With these, I might just be able to infiltrate them — if my time magic succeeded.


    The risks be damned. My research was solid—I was certain of it. I would return to the past, no matter the dangers.


    I knew this spell would demand everything I had. There would be no artifacts, no shortcuts—only raw mana and my mastery over it as an Archmage. Manipulating time was a feat so delicate, so precise, that the slightest error could tear me apart or transport me to another century. But I had no choice.


    I teleported Carl to my main house and came back to cast the spell without being disturbed by anyone.


    I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The ambient mana around me trembled as I drew it inward, channeling it from my core. I guided the surging energy into disciplined currents as I mentally reviewed the structure of the spell.


    The first phase of the spell involved forming the Temporal Shell, a protective barrier to shield my essence from the chaotic torrents of the timestream. I focused, to slowly shape the shell in the air before me.


    As the shell solidified, I moved on to constructing the Temporal Anchor. This anchor would bind me to a specific moment in time, ensuring I didn’t drift aimlessly through history. I recalled Sherry’s visit to my home and focused on it. The mana around me writhed and I forced the energy into place, holding the spell steady through sheer willpower.


    Next came the hardest part: crafting the Temporal Pathway, the thread that would pull me back to the precise moment I had chosen. Shaping it was like weaving silk threads in a hurricane. My vision blurred as I connected the pathway to the anchor, channeling mana through it while keeping the entire construct stable.


    The pull of the timestream grew stronger, relentless. Time itself seemed to resist my efforts. My body screamed in protest. I poured every last ounce of mana into the spell, the effort leaving me gasping for breath. And then, the world around me distorted, twisting into a blur as I was hurled backward through the flow of time.


    Pain ripped through me, sharper than any wound I had ever endured. Images of the past assaulted me—Sherry’s childhood, the founding of the academy... The timestream itself seemed to push back, trying to overwhelm me, to force me to surrender.


    But I refused to falter. My anchor held firm, its memory guiding me. With one final surge of will, I teared through the resistance of the timestream.


    Then, the world around me turned silent.


    When I opened my eyes, I was in my bed at home. My body ached as if I had been torn apart and stitched back together. The alarm of my ward buzzed crazily indicating the presence of an intruder.


    The spell had worked. This was definitely the past. But something was wrong.


    My mana reserves were nearly depleted, and the spell had left me weakened. I couldn’t even leave my bed or stop the alarm of my ward.


    For the first time in my life, I prayed.


    I prayed for the intruder being my daughter and not someone else.