The mage always believed that "I" represented the most powerful force in the world, and the understanding of oneself determined the level of this power, even surpassing the effect of one's True Name. In the "Cage Half-plane," Lynch broke free from the shackles of his True Name, thinking he had understood his essence and transcended above ordinary beings, but the current scene filled him with fear. All the confidence he had in the past now seemed like an illusion. If there was anything that could make Lynch afraid, it was the unknown about himself.

"Whatever this is, it's something you've written." Zilvra whispered in Lynch's ear: "I think you can always find the answer. Think carefully."

"Yes." Lynch first checked all the magic cast on himself, then turned his gaze to these writings: "First, I need to figure out the effects of these spells."

The original plan for the teleportation experiment was greatly delayed. Lynch, holding his three ancient magic scrolls, kept translating them. Fortunately, the uncontrollable state of losing his mind never happened again, and the mage maintained a clear head. As one key part after another was deciphered, Lynch gradually felt relieved.

They weren't dangerous spells at all, but quite the opposite—they were powerful protection barriers. Their functions were no different from the spells Lynch originally intended to set up, only stronger and more stable.

"Maybe it's the work of these three arcane scrolls." Lynch muttered to himself, which was the most reasonable explanation he could find.

Meanwhile, the magicians finally started negotiating with the dwarfs. They no longer needed to disguise themselves as traveling poets or put on a smiling face to please others. Soraya, with a serious expression, looked at the council of dwarven elders. If it weren't for that guy named Lynch, they might have taken over this place quickly, or at least forced the dwarfs to yield to their power. Although this wasn't his intention, it indeed was the most time-efficient method. Although very frustrating, time was like a heavy shackle to them, imprisoning their original kindness and politeness.

The magicians were also frowning; they hadn't expected to encounter a mage like Lynch, who could easily subdue them all. If he stood on their side, how much aid could he provide for "that goal"! But on the other hand, with him being a mage, he was unlikely to agree with their "goal." If things were handled poorly, centuries of effort by this line of magicians would all go to waste.

Bound by oath, they couldn't reveal everything to the dwarfs; and at this point, they understood that it was impossible for the dwarfs to look favorably upon them or easily believe their words.

"Out of mere courtesy, we'd like to hear your group of magicians' defense." Langda frowned, although he could never fully see the opposite situation. "Why did you seal the borders without permission?"

"For the safety of Dwarf City." Soraya replied: "Or perhaps I should use the name Spider Cave. But even so, that is not the true name of this location. Apart from our line of magicians, no one in the world knows this part of history. This is called the Burial Land."

"Since only you know, you can't prove it." Langda responded: "Moreover, we dwarves have always been able to take care of ourselves. Even if we need help, we will say 'please' ourselves."

"In this matter, we sincerely apologize." Soraya argued: "But when we saw a Desire Demon and a mage heading towards this city, we were still worried about its simple residents. Although I am surprised and admire the achievements you've made, it was precisely those achievements that aroused our jealousy and desire to showcase our skills before the great dwarves."

The magician's voice was as elegant as poetry recitation, and their way of speaking was very peculiar, with those emphases and brief pauses like exciting drumbeats, urging listeners to continue listening and believers to keep believing. The dwarfs felt that if there were musical accompaniment here, the magicians would be singing rather than simply conversing.

"I accept your apology, but…" Langda suddenly didn't know what to say. Compensation? The dwarfs seemed not to have actually lost anything. Expel them? If so, there would be no need for a meeting, just expulsion directly.

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