Early morning.
In the dark and empty lecture hall, a young apprentice knelt beside the podium. He stuck out his butt and tried to reach the bottom of the podium.
'Who came up with this design?'
The apprentice tried his best to reach out, his face red.
'Installing the Sound Replication Stone in the hidden compartment of the podium?'
It was aesthetically pleasing, but it was hard on the teaching assistants who maintained the classroom.
Finally, with a soft sound, he successfully removed the last precious Sound Replication Stone.
The apprentice sat on the ground, panting as he looked at the Sound Replication Stone in his hand, which had become extremely smooth due to repeated use. Only then did he heave a sigh of relief.
'Fortunately, this piece is not damaged.
It can still last for another ten … hmm, maybe five lessons. '
The apprentice carefully wrapped the Sound Replication Stone, then picked up a charcoal pen and started to draw the faded Sound Replication Spell in front of the podium.
His movements were practiced and habitual, his expression serious and focused. The complex and ever-changing spell appeared effortlessly under his pen.
The apprentice also corrected a few mistakes in the design of the Hindering Spell, making it operate more smoothly. It might even extend the lifespan of the Sound Replication Stone.
Of course, with a hint of pride, the apprentice thought in his heart, 'I can't let anyone find out about this, or else I'll have to face the investigation of the "Magic Law Committee" again.'
Once he thought of this, the apprentice's pride suddenly disappeared.
After finishing the last stroke, the apprentice, whose back was aching, stood up and looked at his seat. On it were two large stacks of parchment paper, three large bags of test papers, and a special equipment box for teaching assistants.
The apprentice sighed.
Mr. Donovan's lecture was in the afternoon.
He had to quickly prepare the equipment, including the name list, nameplate, recording pen, broadcast device, mold, and the corresponding guest manual …
'Why do so many lectures have to be held on a boring topic?
'The Throne of All Laws has also fallen.'
The apprentice thought worriedly. He walked to the other side of the classroom and looked at the calendar on the wall.
"October 29th, Empire Year 839, Saturday."
"Rest day."
"Era of Kings 314, Ascetic Tower, lifelong mage, craftsman, poet, historian, swordsman, author of" The Legend of the Iron Blood King ", Jericho Rhine Mindis, was born today."
"The important thing is not the choice itself, but to make the choice — Mindis."
On the calendar, the colorful Wizard Mindis stood at the peak of the mountains, his expression deep as he looked at the sunrise in the distance with a worried expression.
It had been three years.
The apprentice sighed slowly. Then, he mercilessly tore apart Wizard Mindis, who was worried about the country and the people, along with yesterday, and crumpled them into a ball.
Today was revealed.
[October 30th, Empire Year 839, Sunday.]
[Holy Pursuit Day holiday.]
[In the 58th year of the Era of Kings, the strategist and commander of the Holiness Exorcism Campaign, King Anzac died today.]
[Everyone, we have left our lives here in order to leave hope for tomorrow. King Anzac]
On the calendar was the back of a fully-armored cavalryman, charging straight down from the icy peak towards the black mass of troops below.
The apprentice expressionlessly stuffed 'Wizard Mindis' into his hand, and the more he rubbed it, the smaller it became.
Why did the lectures have to be on weekends …
At this moment.
"Really?"
A young man's voice rang out. It was bright, light, and full of excitement.
The apprentice jumped in fright. He turned around and found that there was an uninvited guest in the classroom.
The guest was sitting next to his seat, taking out a stack of parchment scrolls from his teaching assistant bag. He flipped through them from time to time, reading them with great interest.
"The Common Explanation of Origin Theory, Meta-System Concept, Transformation Magic, and Spirit Summoning Circle — New Evidence of the Prehistoric Battlefield in the North?"
The apprentice was shocked just by hearing the first half of the sentence!
Oh my god, that's —
He ran madly towards the guest, but he tripped on the stairs on the way and fell flat on his face.
The guest was still reading the scroll in his hand with great interest, his expression relaxed.
The young apprentice ignored the pain in his palm and quickly got up. He clenched his teeth and rushed towards the guest.
"That's … mine!"
Only then did the guest raise his head and smiled at him.
He had long hair that went past his ears, fair skin, and was very handsome. His sitting posture was elegant, but his bearing was extraordinary.
A handsome man.
Like a man in a painting.
The apprentice grabbed the seat beside him and stopped his steps, so that he did not run into the guest.
"Yes, I saw the signature."
"There's also a comment on the rejection of the manuscript." The handsome man chuckled, raised the scroll in his hand towards the apprentice, and flipped to a page of red comments.
"'Self-gratifying, irrational fantasies and conjectures'."
The apprentice's face turned red.
He looked at the comment, and as if his neck was being strangled, his originally confident voice instantly lowered a few degrees.
"That's —"
The apprentice hesitated for a while, but finally said stubbornly,
"It's none of your business."
The handsome man smiled gently.
The apprentice noticed that the other party's attire was not the usual color scheme of the tower. On the contrary, his mage robe was flamboyant in color, fashionable in design, and made of expensive materials. In the morning light, there seemed to be star-like reflections.
Strange.
Who was he?
"So you're that person?"
The guest continued to flip the scroll in his hand.
"The 'Magic Charlatan' of Red Horn Tower?"
The apprentice was stunned.
Because of the unique architectural style of the main tower, Soul Tower was also jokingly called "Red Horn Tower" by the apprentices of other magic towers.
But they never mentioned this nickname themselves. That meant …
However, when the apprentice came back to his senses, he was quickly attracted by another nickname.
"Magic — Magic Charlatan?"
What kind of nickname was that?
The handsome man nodded.
"So you really believe it?" The guest lifted his gaze from the scroll and nodded gently at the apprentice, like a spring breeze.
"In the Holiness Exorcism Campaign more than a thousand years ago, King Anzac opened the gates of hell and defeated the ancient orcs with the power of a mysterious devil?"
The apprentice blinked. He stared at the manuscript in the other party's hand that belonged to him and understood something.
"Magic Charlatan, alright."
The apprentice sighed and raised an index finger, as if he was used to this scene a thousand times.
"Listen, I'm not a magic charlatan, and I never said that the ancient orcs were defeated by a devil —"
But the guest immediately interrupted him.
"But that's what the reviewer wrote for your thesis."
The other party flipped to a page in the scroll and showed it to the apprentice.
There was a paragraph circled in red on it, and the comment on the side said, "If you like devils so much, I suggest you continue your training at the gates of hell."
The apprentice's breathing stopped, and then his face turned red.
As if he was insulted, he spoke in a hurried voice.
"This … This is taking my words out of context!"
The guest looked at him with a smile and did not say a word.
This made the apprentice even more indignant.
He dodged his own thesis, flipped through it skillfully and habitually, and randomly pulled out a wrinkled page.
"Look?"
Exasperatedly, he pointed to one of the sketches, covered with notes, which appeared to be a human skeleton:
"The latest evidence of an ancient battlefield excavated under Arunde Castle … More than a thousand bodies of ancient human warriors, with distinct characteristics of the early period of the Age of Kings … Most of the samples suffered countless blows and injuries in multiple parts …"
The guest leaned closer and looked at it with great interest.
The apprentice spoke faster and faster, "Both the extent and the number far exceeded our imagination. Some bodies even had their skulls shattered when their hearts were pierced …"
"I guess," the handsome man smiled slightly, his long hair fluttering, "This means that the ancient knights of the Age of Kings fought bravely? Fought to the death with the orcs without retreating? Suffered great injuries? "
"No!"
The apprentice was resolute, trying hard to shake the scroll in his hand.
"This means that they suffered more than one fatal injury when they were alive! More than one! "
He tried hard to repeat the main points.
"Perhaps, the superpowers of the ancients were stronger?"
The handsome man's tone was still teasing.
"Just like how the physiques of the ancient orcs far exceeded that of the modern orcs?"
The apprentice felt insulted.
"No!"
He raised his voice, gritted his teeth, raised his finger out of habit, and repeated tirelessly,
"No human can withstand even one fatal blow like that! No!
"No matter how tenacious their will is! No way!
"No matter how powerful their superpowers are, there's no way, no way!"
Every time he emphasized it, the handsome man would nod with a radiant smile on his face.
He seemed to understand.
"Then?"
The apprentice took a deep breath and turned to the next page.
"Then, I personally dug out a few corpses from the ground and thawed them from their frozen state. I swear, the flesh and blood of those things were still alive. If it wasn't for my quick reflexes … I have listed the specific data of the more than a thousand corpses that our research team dug out here …
But the apprentice's words came to an abrupt halt.
In the paper, the parts he pointed to were circled in red, and the original contents could not be seen clearly. There were replies written in different handwriting: "The statistical method is too crude", "Has the selective bias been dealt with", "Suggested to choose new samples", "The test is unconvincing", "Correlation does not equal causation", and so on.
The most glaring sentence was: "Was your mathematics taught by a swordsmanship teacher?"
The handsome man seemed to be unable to restrain his laughter.
The apprentice blushed and stuffed the paper into his bag.
"All in all, it's no longer something that can be explained by the Edge Sharpening School, Forging Magic, and Material Affinity of the Alchemy Tower, or the Light and Shadow Flute and Soul Theory of the Soul Tower, not to mention the Transcendent power where the will affects the body."
He was still trying hard to explain.
"I'm guessing that even the most insane Ascetic Tower cannot find such a thing …"
The guest nodded and encouraged him to continue.
"So?"
The apprentice adjusted his breathing, and his eyes lit up.
"In the known historical materials, although there are not many, there are indeed a few records that mention something similar. It ignores the basic laws and completely changes the form of life from the inside out …"
Ignores the basic laws, from the inside out …
"You mean …"
The guest pondered and said faintly,
"The records of religious exorcism in the Bright God Church?"
The apprentice's words came to a halt.
The handsome man chuckled.
"So, it's back to demons again."
The apprentice cleared his throat.
"No, not all of them, and it doesn't necessarily have to be the Bright God …"
"But …" He tried hard to explain, but in the end, he gave up. His voice became gloomy.
"Yes, most of them."
"At least that's … potential circumstantial evidence that we can refer to for now."
The apprentice looked dispirited. He nudged the bag containing the paper with his elbow.
"I just want to say that if we are willing to put aside our prejudices and re-examine the relevant religious books and even legends, there will be, I mean, it might be helpful."
The guest seemed to have understood something.
"So, the reviewers think that you are advocating mysterious or even religious theories such as' the existence of demons'?"
The apprentice's expression turned completely gloomy.
"They even asked me with a fake smile if I went to the 'Gates of Hell' to listen to the sermon again."
The apprentice looked at the crumpled paper in the bag gloomily.
God have mercy on me. I've only been to the Gates of Hell once, okay?
And I was tricked into going in!
That big sister who preached looked so intellectual, so mature, so beautiful …
But I actually liked her …
The apprentice shook his head and chased away the unpleasant memories.
After he smelled the blood used for the sacrifice, he immediately thought of a way to escape, okay!
"I understand your topic."
The guest suddenly spoke.
The apprentice looked up.
"What?"
The handsome man touched his chin.
"A rare transformation spell that works on the level of the origin …
"Using the contemporary meta-system hypothesis to explain those ancient spirit-summoning circles that have been despised for a long time …"
The guest skillfully used the terminology in his paper.
"You are trying to establish an argument that can be accepted by the mages — from the perspective of modern magic, to explain the unspeakable mysterious phenomenon."
The handsome man looked up.
"To make it easier to pass the manuscript?
"To apply for funding for the next step of research?"
The apprentice snorted, a little self-deprecating.
"Didn't it still not pass.
"Moreover, the archaeological excavation is over. There's no hope."
The large classroom was silent for a moment. The two of them were separated by a seat, silent.
After a few seconds, somewhat to the apprentice's surprise, the guest did not comfort or mock him — this was the most treatment he had received in the past month.
"Divine arts."
The handsome man turned around and asked seriously and solemnly,
"Why is it not divine arts?"
The apprentice was stunned.
"What?"
The handsome man lowered his head, his eyes surging with light.
"Ignoring the basic laws and completely changing the form of life.
"In countless religious records and legends, miracles and divine arts have shown the same effect, haven't they?"
The handsome man enunciated each word.
"Reviving the dead, regrowing the flesh and bones, restoring the broken body, creating the Oracle."
The apprentice paused for a long time before he said hesitantly,
"I … that's not the focus of my research."
"I'm not a believer of the Bright God, not a … quack."
He said gloomily.
But the handsome man looked at him for a long time and laughed.
"Actually, you've thought of it, haven't you?"
The handsome man's words were bewitching, "And the records of miracles and divine arts are more numerous and more detailed."
"But you couldn't write it."
The apprentice trembled slightly.
After a long time, the apprentice exhaled and patted his thesis.
"Just writing it like this is enough to make people think that I'm a quack …"
His tone was as if he had accepted his fate.
"And I still want to keep my job."
The guest was silent.
"I thought the Soul Tower was very open."
The handsome man said softly,
"Here, everyone has and should have an 'independent and free soul'."
The apprentice snorted, disapproving.
"No matter how independent they are, they are still humans."
He sat back in his seat and looked at the ceiling, his tone filled with indescribable disappointment.
"No matter how free they are, they are still mages."
"They are born to reject certain things."
These words made the handsome man fall into deep thought.
"They don't believe that there are other paths apart from their path that can be called 'rational', and they condemn it as' foolish '— by the standards of magic."
The apprentice was engrossed in his words.
"They believe that even if it can be doubted, even if it can be falsified, even if it can be overturned in the end, they must and can only do it in their own way — otherwise, it is just the words of fools, irrational."
"They believe that everything that exists in the world must be explained by logical principles that they recognize in order to be reasonable."
"Because magic is advanced, and magic is the truth."
The apprentice sighed.
"As mages, we are so 'progressive'," he said listlessly.
"So much so that we can no longer 'progress'."
There was another indescribable silence.
Until the handsome man looked up.
"It's too big."
The apprentice was puzzled.
The handsome man casually and happily flipped his hair.
"The scope of your complaints is too big, but this has nothing to do with magical ideals."
"And this is only about mages, and only about humans."
The apprentice was stunned.
"I don't understand?"
The pretty boy smiled in an unrestrained manner, and it dazzled him.
"The reason you were rejected — is politics."
The apprentice's expression changed slightly.
"Excuse me?"
The handsome man reached out his hand and tapped the apprentice's forehead.
"To be precise, it is about the right to speak in magic research, leadership, vested interests, and the personnel structure of the Magic Tower — politics."
The apprentice stared at him blankly.
What, what do you mean?
The handsome man pulled out the stack of parchments from between them.
"Especially this argument of 'we should put down our pride and re-examine religious legends'.
"The reason they rejected such arguments is because of recent events."
The apprentice rolled his eyes.
Recently?
The handsome man flipped through his paper and smiled mysteriously.
"Three months ago, the Seat of All Laws was defeated in the Northern Diocese's Truth Debate."
The apprentice's expression changed.
He knew that the Seat of All Laws represented the Soul Tower and did not fare well in the debate, and because of this, he was criticized by his fellow apprentices from the Seat of Power.
However, wasn't it normal for debates to have winners and losers?
What did it have to do with his paper?
The handsome man continued.
"Unfortunately, the Duke of the Northern Territory and the governor of the province were among the spectators. The influence was deep, and the consequences were not small."
The handsome man narrowed his eyes and smiled.
"With the approval of the Arunde family and the strong recommendation of the Bright God Church, the young bishop of the Northern Diocese was able to return south to the City of Triumph and went straight to the Supreme Palace to preach to the nobles of the imperial capital, including the royal family. It is said that he even hit it off with His Majesty and had a pleasant conversation."
"This has become a popular story that has spread throughout the twenty-three provinces of the empire."
"There are even rumors that His Majesty intends to make this young but knowledgeable bishop of the Northern Territories the prime minister of the empire, in order to replace Count Renato, who has been criticized for failing to suppress the rebellion."
A series of inexplicable nouns and events hit the apprentice's brain full of corpses and bones.
"So?"
The handsome man closed the paper, leaned on the arm of the chair, and approached him with a faint smile.
"So, now, not only the Red Horn Tower, but the higher-ups of the three towers urgently need to regroup, save face, strengthen confidence, and let people believe again that magic is the truth of the world, and that mages are the right path for humans."
Smack!
The handsome man waved the paper and gently slapped the ignorant apprentice's forehead.
"And at this time, of all things, you submitted such a paper."
"You said 'hey, maybe the stories written by those quacks make some sense', and you even wanted to apply for funding and set up a research group?"
The apprentice understood something. He took the wrinkled paper from his head and looked at the guest dumbly.
"If they let you pass …"
The handsome man snorted.
"Then, at such a time when people are anxious and morale is low, what about the authority of magic in the hearts of the majority of students?"
"What about the authority of the court mages in the various families of the empire?"
"What if the nobles no longer believe in reason, and instead resort to mysticism?"
"What about this entire research system, system, proof methods, and principles that we have spent thousands of years to obtain? What about their guiding position in the magic system?"
The apprentice hugged the paper tightly to his chest and blinked in confusion.
What?
"Most importantly …"
The handsome man chuckled, stretched his hand forward, and tapped the apprentice's forehead.
"If what saved mankind a thousand years ago was not magic, not mages, not the wisdom and power of mankind, but the illusory gods and devils … Then, what about the absolute advantage of faith in the church that we have built up in the hearts of the majority of the people after the 'Great Reconciliation'?"
The apprentice took a deep breath, and after sorting out the logic, he felt a little indignant.
"But … but if this is the truth …"
The handsome man's voice suddenly turned cold, and he interrupted him.
"Then this truth should be buried, and never see the light of day."
The handsome man's face darkened, but there was a cold charm to it.
"Unless this truth is beneficial to us, and will not affect the absolute dominance of mages in the secular world."
The handsome man stretched out his hand again and tapped the apprentice's head — he seemed to particularly like this little gesture — and said,
"Knowledge is also constructed by power."
"I first love my teacher, and only then will I love the truth."
The apprentice shook his head, escaping from the guest's little gesture.
He carefully thought about every word the other person said.
One question was answered, but endless questions followed.
He looked at the guest skeptically.
"You … Who did you say you were?"
The handsome man returned to his seat, and his smile became even more mysterious.
"I didn't say, but …"
He lifted his chin slightly, extended his right hand, and cleverly hid his arrogance in his teasing tone.
"Macinta.
"Macinta Renato."
The handsome man said softly,
"Nice to meet you."
The apprentice subconsciously held the fair and tender hands of a noble who clearly had not done much farm work.
"Oh, yes, I'm happy to meet you too … Wait, Renato?"
The apprentice's expression changed.
A mage with the surname Renato, and such a young one at that …
He remembered something, and at first, he hurriedly tried to recall. The moment he thought of it, his whole body trembled!
"Oh my god, you're that …"
He pointed at Macinta in horror.
"The legitimate royal family of the Empire, the descendant of the Six Founding Stars, the playboy son of the prime minister, the fiancé of Princess Secret Blue in the royal family, the one who is obsessed with magic but not with being an official …"
Macinta smiled as he listened to the apprentice count out the titles. He seemed to be quite used to it, and enjoyed it.
The apprentice's expression froze.
"That's not right. Why do I remember that the Tower of War snatched you away before we did … How did you …"
The Tower of War.
Macinta paused slightly.
"Yes, I am indeed an apprentice affiliated with the Alchemy Tower."
The apprentice nodded.
"So, you're a muscleman — Ahem, sorry, you were sent by the Alchemy Tower to visit. Which lecture are you here to listen to?"
But Macinta shook his head.
"No, I'm here to learn."
"I'm the beneficiary of the latest 'Horn of War' Twin Towers Joint Training Program."
Horn of War.
The apprentice understood. As the name suggested, it referred to the two major Magic Towers of Alchemy and Soul, commonly known as' War 'and' Red Horn 'among the mages. But …
"Twin Towers, Joint Training Program?"
The apprentice looked at him in surprise.
"That's right."
The handsome man nodded. His bright smile seemed to take away the darkness in the classroom.
"I've been a joint student for two and a half years."
Oh.
The apprentice scratched his head in a daze.
Why does this sound so weird, as if something is not quite right …
However.
That's rare.
According to the legends, the Twin Towers, who called each other 'musclemen' and 'thinkers', had huge differences in every aspect, from the magic ideology to the organizational structure, from the relationship between the leadership to the competition between apprentices, and they would fight each other whenever they met.
Macinta cleared his throat and put away his smile that could charm half the young ladies of the Empire and a quarter of the young men of the Empire.
"Listen, I have a research project on hand."
He looked at the apprentice seriously.
"Perhaps you'll be interested."
The apprentice snorted in his heart.
What do I say?
Why would he come to an empty classroom early in the morning and babble on?
It's the magic review period. Looks like he's the organizer of some empty research project. He can't claim a large mysterious account, so he's looking for a sucker to make up the numbers and scam the funds …
The apprentice said lazily.
"So, what's the research topic?"
Macinta smiled. His long hair was clearly under the effect of a Wind Spell as it fluttered freely in the air.
"As you said, some subversive topics, some directions that may not be recognized, some things that require us to question ourselves, some things that require us to overturn our deeply rooted beliefs that we are unwilling to touch in order to obtain them."
The apprentice replied perfunctorily.
"Oh …"
As expected, even the research topic was baffling …
Until the other party's next sentence.
"And our research field is under Arunde Castle in the Northland Province, in the belly of a mountain."
A few seconds later, the apprentice who understood suddenly paled.
He stood up abruptly and looked at Macinta, momentarily forgetting to admire the latter's peerless beauty.
"Underground, belly of a mountain. You mean …"
Macinta chuckled and stood up as well.
"That's right. It's the same place mentioned in your paper. The ancient battlefield ruins of the era of various kings that you once participated in the excavation, that ancient underground transportation tunnel."
The pretty boy walked up to the apprentice. Just a head taller than him, he looked down at him condescendingly.
"Nicknamed by the people — 'Black Track'."
The apprentice was completely stunned.
But Macinta did not let him off. He skillfully revealed a secret that even the apprentice did not know.
"After your Red Horn Tower was forced to withdraw from the joint pressure of the Empire's official research team, the Ascetic Tower, and the Bright God Church, the management of the ruins fell into the hands of the governor of the Northland Province.
"And the Duke of the Northland, who is good at smoothing things over, originally only intended to block the entrance of the cave and build a monument saying 'We Killed the Ancient Orcs'.
"But unfortunately, I am very familiar with Duke Arunde's heir, and he delegated this task to me."
The pretty boy bent down and touched the apprentice's forehead.
"You know, if I were to build a monument, I could use someone like you."
He blinked.
"You."
His eyes were a deep blue, as though he had plunged into the deep sea.
The apprentice could not care less about the other party's overly intimate actions. He subconsciously gulped.
"You mean … fake construction, duplicity … Isn't that illegal?"
Macinta smiled but did not answer directly.
"What do you say, do you want to come?"
The apprentice took a few steps back and eased his breathing, which had quickened due to the other party's proximity.
He looked at the other party in surprise, then at his own paper.
Black Track.
Excavation.
But a few seconds later, the apprentice's expression darkened as he realized something.
"There were many people who participated in the excavation."
The apprentice's expression darkened.
"For example, my mentor, Wizard Donovan.
"You should look for him."
Macinta stared at his expression and smiled.
"Donovan? The Donovan who is only one step away from the title of Master? "
He scratched his chin, deep in thought.
"Well, I have studied all of his works, from the early days to the present."
The apprentice snickered.
"You sure are confident."
He looked at the noble young master in front of him without hesitation.
"In Wizard Donovan's career, there are a total of 163 papers and 12 books …"
"No."
Macinta shook his head and interrupted him.
"To be precise, there are a hundred and ninety-two papers and thirteen books."
The apprentice's expression suddenly changed.
The pretty boy in front of him played it down.
"Including some manuscripts of his exercises when he was young, and a book that has yet to be published."
The apprentice was stunned.
'Holy shit.
'It's fine if this guy is handsome. After all, there are still many people in the world who are close to my looks.
'But, he clearly looks like a rich playboy, and he's not that old?
'Could it be …'
Macinta did not notice the apprentice's thoughts.
"But unfortunately, I discovered that the once famous Master Donovan has become conservative and backward. His latest books and papers are all cliches, reading from the book, and not thinking of improving."
His words revealed his deep disappointment.
"Master Donovan is already old."
The apprentice was stunned at first, then indignantly took on the vigor of lecturing a student.
"Sigh, you child …"
But Macinta did not let him continue.
"And in recent years, his few interesting works …"
The pretty boy looked up and stared straight at the apprentice who was holding the papers.
"They were all jointly written with a certain unknown student cum teaching assistant of his."
The apprentice froze.
"That's you."
Macinta stared straight at him and said softly.
"Three years ago, because of a serious violation of research ethics, he was demoted from a first-class apprentice to a third-class apprentice — Toros Mill."
The classroom was silent.
The young apprentice, Toros, was silent.
A few seconds later, Toros coughed softly.
"Yes, but Master Donovan is still my mentor and employer. I think it's best if you look for him first …"
But this time, Macinta ignored his words and went straight to the point.
"Are you content?"
Toros shuddered violently.
Macinta sneered.
"Brimming with talent, but just because of a so-called 'political mistake', he was deprived of the right to be evaluated and promoted for life."
Toros' breathing quickened.
"In his prime, but with a bleak future, he can only be a third-class apprentice for the rest of his life? Even when he was being evaluated anonymously, he was repeatedly rejected? "
In the classroom, one person questioned with his hands behind his back, while the other held the papers.
Silence met.
Toros struggled to regain his breath.
"Listen, three years ago, if it wasn't for Master Donovan who protected me against the pressure …"
But Macinta's questions came one after another, like a sword filled with extraordinary power, stabbing straight at his heart.
"Are you content?"
At that moment, the pretty boy spoke harshly, like a prophet of God.
"Full of ambition and boundless curiosity, but can only hide behind your teacher, do chores, silently proofread manuscripts, and verify data?
"And …"
Macinta glanced at the classroom.
"Protect the Sound Replication Stone?"
Taurus tightened his grip on the rejected thesis.
Macinta slowly reached out.
"Now, you have a chance to prove yourself."
His tone was full of temptation.
"Join me and return to the right path of magic.
"Tell those who rejected you that one day, they are only fit to look up at your back."
Toros lowered his head. His expression was unreadable.
He fell into complete silence.
Macinta was in no hurry. He waited quietly and patiently.
He seemed certain of the other's reaction.
However, a few seconds later, Toros looked up.
"I, refuse."
The apprentice spoke with difficulty, enunciating each word slowly.
"I'm very happy here," Toros hugged his papers, his voice trembling.
"I chose magic because of my passion, not because of success."
Macinta was surprised.
"Really?"
The pretty boy began to scrutinize Toros again.
"You know, for you, this kind of opportunity doesn't come often, right?
"At least, I will provide you with an adequate salary …"
Toros suddenly spoke, interrupting Macinta.
"Listen up!"
His expression was tense, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the papers.
"I'm still very busy. I have to rush to prepare the facilities for the next lecture …"
The apprentice did not continue.
Macinta raised an eyebrow.
"Alright."
He nodded, feeling a little regretful.
"What a pity."
The pretty boy stared at the apprentice, but the apprentice did not say a word, seemingly unmoved.
Macinta sighed and could only turn around to leave.
The moment the apprentice turned around, Toros, who had been silent all this while, shut his eyes tightly and bit his lower lip.
It was as if he was being tortured.
At that moment.
"Toros."
Macinta did not turn around.
"I heard that you were born into a knight's family in Chauvinistic Hill, right?"
The apprentice's expression changed.
Toros looked up warily.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's just that I heard in the tower," Macinta was unhurried and did not turn around.
"You have a fiancée who was your childhood sweetheart. After becoming a believer, she swore to serve the gods and broke off the engagement.
"Became a nun who will never marry for life?"
Fiancée.
Broke off the engagement.
For a moment, Toros' thoughts froze.
The papers in his arms groaned in pain.
Macinta curled the corners of his lips.
"Hey, muscleman."
After a while, the soulless Toros stammered.
"This has nothing to do with you."
But Macinta was like a hunter who had chased after the bloodstains of his prey.
"Then, my dear Toros, you only worked hard to squeeze into the Magic Tower when you were over eighteen years old, and vowed to study the path of magic …
"And you're still so obsessed with using magic to explain all sorts of mysteries. Does it have anything to do with her?"
Toros looked up abruptly and shouted angrily.
"Of course not!"
Macinta turned around and looked at the trembling apprentice with a subtle expression.
Toros realized that his attitude was not right.
He cleared his throat and tried to bring his tone back to normal.
"I-I have always maintained the direction and attitude of my research and will not be affected by anything other than work."
He spoke with utmost determination.
There was no room for doubt.
Macinta smiled.
"That's good."
He turned around again and said, intentionally or unintentionally,
"Oh, by the way, let me tell you something.
"Your fiancée, due to her pious faith and outstanding work, was promoted by a young bishop to be his right-hand man."
Toros froze.
"Oh, what a coincidence. It's the one I mentioned just now, Bishop Zieg, whom His Majesty the Emperor treats as a guest of honor."
Macinta's voice drilled into his ears like the whispers of the legendary devil. He could not stop it.
"As a holy nun revered by the believers, your fiancée — sorry, ex-fiancée — is deeply trusted and bathed in the grace of God.
"Dedicate herself."
The air in the classroom seemed to have frozen.
After a long while.
"Alright, I got it," the apprentice said absentmindedly.
Macinta looked at him and the corners of his lips returned to being cold.
"Then I'll be leaving," the pretty boy said plainly.
"Good luck to you and your paper."
Macinta turned around and took a step forward. He sighed and said,
"Those preachers, their bewitchment is really strong, isn't it?"
His footsteps slowly faded away.
'No.'
Taurus thought in a daze.
'No.'
'She did not become a believer because of the preachers' bewitchment.
'It's because …
'Because …'
With a clatter, the paper in Toros' hands fell to the ground.
Toros snapped out of his daze.
He squatted down quietly and picked up the paper that he had crumpled into a mess.
The last page of the paper, which was full of red words, was revealed. There was a line of approval on it.
Although they were all anonymous reviewers, it did not affect Toros from recognizing his teacher's handwriting.
"Magic, in the end, is about the knowledge of people."
"Do not lose yourself in the endless pursuit of curiosity and lose your heart."
'Wizard Donovan.'
Toros' breathing quickened.
'The knowledge of people …'
He clenched his fists tighter.
'The knowledge of people …'
The apprentice's heart beat faster and faster.
'People …'
"Wait a minute!"
Toros' loud shout rang in the classroom.
The footsteps stopped.
Macinta turned around slowly and looked at the apprentice with a calm expression.
"Co-student …"
Toros breathed rapidly. He stared at the paper in his hands and his expression changed rapidly. He seemed hesitant and remorseful.
"That damned research plan of yours …"
A second later, Toros looked up with a resolute expression.
He threw away the parchment in his hands without hesitation.
It was like throwing away the past.
"When do we start?"
Macinta looked at the apprentice from afar and did not answer. The emotions in his eyes were indescribable.
Until he flashed a satisfied smile.
"Soon, my dear, very soon."
Macinta's smile was heartwarming, while Toros' expression was cold.
"But don't be hasty.
"Trust me," the pretty boy stared fixedly at the apprentice before him, his tone filled with the satisfaction of hunting prey.
"We still have a long way to go."
()
Stealing Fragrance
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