The cold wind from the northern border, laden with ice crystals, beat against the merchant caravan's carriage, but inside, the compartment was as warm as a bed.
Ezreal, escorting the caravan, had successfully entered Northwind City and completed the goods delivery after dealing with the Phantom Lord Guild's leader.
On the return journey, he reunited with Levy and the other three.
With the caravan's delivery complete, half of the mission was done; all that remained was to safely accompany the caravan back to Ohara City.
The entire Phantom Lord Guild, in this interception mission, was basically wiped out.
All the powerful members of the Guild had died at the hands of the four.
The group also didn't forget to collect items from these individuals that could prove their identity, such as the standardized demon masks.
These items were proof that they had killed members of the Dark Guild, and could be exchanged for bounties at the Magic Council, earning them some extra money.
The news of the Phantom Lord Guild's complete annihilation also spread as the caravan successfully completed its goods delivery.
This led to an exceptionally smooth return journey, completely free of any trouble.
After all, with the entire Dark Guild eliminated, no one else would invite trouble...
Droy, curled up in a wool blanket, munched on honey biscuits, his sprout-like head bobbing: "So, can we take on missions to the south next time?"
"It's really too cold here!"
"If you hadn't blown all your commission from before the New Year on weird seeds, we wouldn't have to travel this far!" Jet suddenly hung upside down from the carriage ceiling, his green ponytail dangling. "I even saw you haggling in the black market yesterday for ice flower seeds!"
"That's called strategic investment! Strategic!" Droy, wrapped in the wool blanket, rolled from side to side, protesting in a caterpillar-like fashion, and said self-righteously: "If it weren't for my plants, that muscle-bound freak would have pounded you to death, okay?"
"And your alchemy potions didn't cost any less; if we hadn't taken this commission, would you even have money for materials?"
Jet rolled his eyes dramatically, "Thanks for nearly blowing me up! If it weren't for the lizard potion, I'd have died with that muscle-bound freak!"
"That was an accident!" Droy retorted, his neck stiff, "The explosive chili peppers weren't fully cultivated yet; it's perfectly normal for their explosive power to be uncontrollable!"
Levy tapped her colorful storybook with a golden pen, "You two still owe me 20,000. Remember to pay me back when we return."
Droy immediately stopped rolling, bit into a honey biscuit, and retreated to a corner of the carriage, quietly nibbling.
Jet flipped into the carriage, pulled a blanket over himself, and pretended to sleep.
Lucy, holding a hand warmer, was laughing heartily when she suddenly felt a slight bump in the carriage.
She pulled back the velvet curtain and saw Ezreal riding a rented snow horse at the very front of the convoy, fine snow dusting his golden hair, yet he maintained his elegant demeanor.
"Oh my, has the young lady finally decided to emerge from her greenhouse?" Ezreal turned, flashing a professional smile. "Another twenty li ahead is the warm southland, so enjoy the snow scenery while you can."
"Mr. EZ, your own ears are red from the cold!" Lucy pointed at his reddened ear tips, laughing, and then suddenly caught sight of the demon mask dangling from his waist. "That... do you really not need to get rid of it?"
"Of course, spoils of war must be brought back to the Guild for exhibition," Ezreal said, casually tossing and catching the mask. "The Council's bounty states that each standardized Phantom Lord Guild mask is worth three months of food expenses."
Three heads suddenly popped out of the carriage.
"Three months?!"
"Food expenses?!"
"How many strawberry cakes can that buy?!"
The snow horse, startled, jumped half a meter high, and Ezreal nearly fell into a snowdrift.
After the commotion settled, the golden-haired youth brushed the snow from his cloak and sighed: "That's why young people shouldn't always think about food... Speaking of which, Lucy, have you contracted with horologium yet?"
The air suddenly grew quiet.
Lucy's fingers, clutching her key ring, stiffened, as three pairs of sparkling eyes were already pressed close to her face.
"N-not yet..."
"Now! Immediately! Right away!" Levy pulled out her pen and notebook. "I want to write this scene into my storybook!"
"Seconded!" A sunflower bloomed on Droy's head.
"Me too!" Jet pulled out a cheerleader's pom-pom from who knows where.
Thus, in Maple Leaf Valley, where the caravan rested, everyone witnessed an unforgettable scene.
"By the name of the stars, open the gate—" The silver key in Lucy's hand glowed with starlight, tracing a radiant clock pattern in the air.
The moment the key was inserted into the void and turned, twelve silver rings spread out like ripples.
The clattering of wooden gears echoed through the valley, and a three-meter-tall antique grandfather clock materialized out of thin air.
A moon phase dial was inlaid on its walnut cabinet door, brass pendulums swung with tiny star-like glints, and the Roman numerals on its face suddenly opened cartoonish big eyes.
"Pleased to meet you, I am Horologium." The grandfather clock extended its slender mortise and tenon limbs, performing a perfect butler's bow. "Though I am not skilled in combat, if you hide within my body, you can evade all attacks."
"Really? Is that true?" Jet's sneaker soles were already glowing green: "Let me try! Just once!"
"Please do." Mr. Horologium elegantly spread his arms.
The moment the spinning kick, wreathed in poisonous mist, struck the clock face, something bizarre happened—the tip of his shoe clearly touched the wooden texture, yet it passed right through as if penetrating a holographic projection.
Jet fell flat on his face due to inertia, and Horologium didn't even get a scratch on its lacquer.
Droy enthusiastically chimed in, "No power!"
Ezreal raised an eyebrow slightly, "Time magic?"
"It's time displacement." Levy's black-rimmed glasses glowed faintly, enhancing her perception. "He moved his own timeline to before the attack!"
"Allowing his true body to exist within a time rift to avoid attacks." Ezreal's pupils glowed white; from his perspective, although Horologium remained in place, there was a strange sensation of it being detached from its surroundings.
He clapped softly, not stinting on praise, "As expected of a Celestial Spirit, your mastery of time magic is truly profound."
Jet, bruised and swollen, suddenly jumped up and shouted: "I wasn't ready just now! If you've got the guts, take this move..."
Before he could finish, Levy hit him into a snowdrift with a book.
Lucy stifled a laugh and smoothed things over: "Mr. Horologium, please don't mind them; they're usually..."
"Your mother was also so full of vitality," the clock's gears sighed nostalgically, interrupting the girl, "Like Ms. Layla, you always attract good and kind people."
Lucy's expression froze, no sound came from her half-open mouth, and her eyes dimmed.
Just then, the key ring at Lucy's waist suddenly jingled, and six keys—three gold and three silver—automatically floated in front of Horologium.
The grandfather clock gently caressed the keys, and a warm glow emanated from its walnut grain: "Seeing you is like seeing Ms. Layla from back then; you two are truly very similar."
The golden-haired girl's eyes suddenly reddened, and Levy quietly stepped forward, putting her arm around Lucy's shoulder.
Horologium reached out and gently stroked Lucy's head, a silver clock magic circle flashing briefly above the girl's head.
"Contract established. Please take care of me from now on."
Horologium transformed into a stream of light and merged into the key, and Lucy, touching the warm silver key, softly murmured: "Mom..."
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