At that moment, the man who emerged from the shadows behind the Tsar's throne had an extremely grim expression. He was tall and, like Lu Kang, wore a black priest's robe. But compared to Lu Kang's neat attire, his cassock was slightly messy, the fabric full of wrinkles. He had long, thick hair and a beard. Beneath his hair, a pair of deep green eyes seemed to contain a bottomless well of magical energy. Even at this moment of displeasure, those eyes seemed to continuously emit a signal that drew others in.
Just as Lu Kang had said—Grigori Rasputin. That was this man's name. A man from the lowest rungs of the Tsarist empire who had made a name for himself by posing as a devout ascetic. This was what Lu Kang knew. He also knew that it was this very charlatan who would, in the twilight of the empire, play a 'part' in bringing down this great edifice. The man named Rasputin had, with his so-called 'divine arts', healed Nicholas II's youngest son, Alexei.
With this, he had won the absolute trust of Nicholas II and his wife, Alexandra Feodorovna, and had step by step wormed his way into the upper echelons of the empire. In the process of wielding power, he had brutally exiled and killed countless capable officials and innocent civilians, sparking immense public outrage.
Of course, that was the original trajectory, the 'future' without Lu Kang. But now, he was here. Everything was different. Lu Kang also wanted to gain Nicholas II's support. So he and Rasputin were 'political rivals'!
"Grigori, you..." After a moment of stunned silence, Nicholas II finally spoke. The emperor, dressed in his military uniform, pressed his hands on the armrests of his throne, his well-groomed face, despite the thick beard, filled with shock and rage.
"Trespassing in the palace! Guards—" the butler below began to shout. But in the next second, both he and Nicholas II found they couldn't make a sound. Not only could they not speak, they felt as if their bodies were frozen, unable to move. The specks of light that had dissipated in the air swirled around them, imprisoning them.
Throughout this, Grigori Rasputin did not look back, nor did he explain himself to the emperor. He simply walked to the front of the throne and looked down at Lu Kang. "How did you find out...?"
The newly fallen light gauze curtains billowed silently, stirring the specks of light that gathered and scattered like fireflies. The man standing above was serious, his face grim, while the youth below clapped his hands.
"Are you going to say that your actions were very secretive?" Lu Kang said, his calm demeanor from moments ago gone. "Indeed, as you say—you were almost seamless. Your hypnotic power is the most superb illusion I have ever seen! I didn't discover anything—dizziness is just a sign of overwork, and forgetfulness is something everyone experiences. Especially these past two days, His Majesty Nicholas has probably been working day and night to receive 'masters' from all over the country, right?" The youth's smile was playful.
"As for why His Majesty Nicholas subconsciously thought he was hypnotized by you—that's simply because you really did hypnotize him! It was his body's instinct giving him a warning!"
"Are you messing with me?" Rasputin's brow furrowed.
"Of course I'm messing with you," Lu Kang sighed. "Who told you to be so stupid as to expose yourself? A 'magus' who professes to be a believer in God!"
The Rasputin before him was undoubtedly a magus who commanded the power of mystery. He was no follower of God; that was just a facade he used to transcend class limitations. What he used to deceive Nicholas II was nothing more than the most common type of magecraft: illusions.
However, although Rasputin's illusions were masterful, in Lu Kang's eyes, they were full of flaws. Because compared to using magecraft to win others' trust, he believed more in the power of words. For example, the words he had just spoken to Nicholas II. And like his phrase, 'the older, the stronger'. The same words, in different places, heard by different people, can always be interpreted in different ways. This was the power of language. Using words as 'chains' was, without a doubt, a kind of magecraft. The magecraft of 'suggestion' and 'guidance'!
"Takes one to know one, 'Little Sage'!" Rasputin's beard twitched. He had clearly heard of Lu Kang's reputation. He turned back—Nicholas II, though unable to move, was listening to their entire conversation, his face grim.
"Your Majesty, please wait here patiently," Rasputin said with a slight bow, seemingly respectful, but his words were utterly treasonous. "Afterwards, I will make you forget all of this!"
The speechless Nicholas II grunted, his brow furrowed even deeper. This damned traitor! he cursed silently, but he was helpless. Still, as a monarch, he hadn't lost his senses. He thought that this 'Little Sage' from afar, whether good or evil, at least seemed to be an enemy of Rasputin. The enemy of my enemy could be a friend. He could only hope that he could defeat this traitor Rasputin and free him.
Rasputin turned back to Lu Kang. He slowly stepped forward, crossing the steps from the throne, his long black boots making the gold-trimmed red carpet wrinkle slightly.
"I've heard your name," Rasputin said as he walked, his deep-set eyes glowing. The billowing gauze curtains swayed more violently, as if in response to his advance. "The 'Little Sage' Lu Kang Luvest. To see through my illusions, you are indeed impressive. But you have made a mistake. And that is stepping in here—because this place... has long since been transformed into my magic workshop!"
As his words fell, the rolling gauze curtains simultaneously lit up with a shimmering light. Specks of patterns inscribed on them formed a complex mystic code, and a cold, shimmering light, like flowing mercury, spread out. An invisible force descended. A heavy pressure fell upon Lu Kang, who was facing Rasputin directly.
As he had said, this place had become his magic workshop—a magus's laboratory, a territory dominated by and belonging solely to the magus. Rasputin had arrived in Moscow three days ago. Upon his arrival, he had used illusions to hypnotize Nicholas II, making the Tsar trust him implicitly. However, illusions were ultimately temporary. He had a deeper goal—to transform this Kremlin, which symbolized the supreme power of the Tsarist empire, into his own territory! This way, he could constantly exert his mystic influence on Nicholas II, turning temporary trust into permanent memory. He could also firmly grasp the highest power of the empire, wielding authority and enjoying the most prosperous treatment in the world! He could also welcome all foreign enemies within this palace, holding an absolute dominant position!
This was the scene Lu Kang was facing now. As a magus, he had walked into another magus's workshop!
"May God bless you, sir," Rasputin, now at the bottom of the steps, stroked his messy beard. He revealed a cunning and confident smile. "I shall send you to meet your maker now!"
His words fell a second time! The light from the mercury-like mystic code grew more intense. It surged like a river, and even the air seemed to ripple with the sound of overlapping water! This was water-element magecraft. Illusions, being ephemeral, belonged to the element of 'water' among earth, water, fire, and wind. And under the impact of this 'current', Rasputin was confident that Lu Kang would have nowhere to run. A magus in their own workshop was powerful, often holding an overwhelming advantage against other magi.
That was what he thought. That was what he believed.
However, in the next second, the gushing 'current' suddenly ceased. The flowing mystic code, like a spinning wheel suddenly jammed, stopped dead. The ancient phenomenon recreated from the formula came to an abrupt halt. Amidst the dimming light, a hand reached out as if through space and clamped down on Rasputin's face!
Rasputin: "!?" He stared, wide-eyed, at the hand that had suddenly appeared before him, and at the youth who was now standing in front of him!
Lu Kang still stood tall, walking through the mystic power condensed by the workshop completely unscathed. Because his body was also glowing with the light of a mystic code—his heavy, black priest's robe was also shining like a magic workshop!
Mystery and mystery collided again, and dissipated! Rasputin's home-field advantage was completely neutralized. What remained, naturally, was a duel between magi. The completely unprepared Rasputin was caught utterly off guard.
"Did you think you were the only one with a home-field advantage?" Lu Kang's lips curled up. He pressed one hand on Rasputin's face, while his other hand flipped his robe. "My magic workshop—I wear it at all times!"
Years ago, while traveling and never staying in one place, he had already completed the micro-inscription of a workshop formula in order to always exert his full power as a magus! He had taken advantage of the environment of the early 20th century, where mystery was more concentrated than in later times, to complete a Mystic Code named 'Sanctuary'. And that was the very clothes he was wearing.
He wore his 'magic workshop'. And so, wherever he stood, was his home ground!
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