The students of the Meteorite Class were almost all middle-aged, and they were mostly between level seven and level nine.
Roland was level eight, which was perfect for them.
The people of the Obsidian Class were between level five and level seven, and Betta was level six, which was just right.
On the surface, Roland and Betta seemed to be slightly lower than the elites of the two classes, but in many cases, when the data on the interface wasn't overwhelming, the outcome of a battle wasn't purely based on the character interface.
Besides, the Golden Sons were much better in terms of the data in the interface.
Although Roland was level eight, he was much better than most level-ten Mages in terms of stats.
Betta was a Divine Noble. He was well-rounded and had the highest overall growth value of all the classes.
However, his core specialties were too extreme, and his main ability was to establish a legion of knights for group battles.
Therefore, in terms of one-on-one combat ability, he was at best only excellent, not top-notch.
However, he was also the type of person who was inferior to those above, but superior to those below.
He was more than enough to deal with Mages of the same level or who didn't have higher stats than him.
Besides, both of them had been through a lot of battles. They might not be a big deal for the players, but for the NPCs in the game, they were gods of slaughter.
Most of the students in the Red Magic Tower, no matter which class they were in, were academic Mages.
Roland left the classroom and went straight to the Meteorite Class.
Betta turned around and blocked the entrance of the Obsidian Class.
At this moment, the class was over. Many middle-aged Mages walked out of the Meteorite Class.
Roland stood in the middle of the road not far away from the entrance.
Far behind him, a bunch of people from the Ruby Class were watching from a distance.
Some of them followed Betta to the Obsidian Class to watch the show.
The middle-aged Mages walked out while chatting. They were all stunned to see Roland standing in the middle of the road.
Because the class was opened every five years, and they had been here for ten years, they knew both their classmates and the people from the Obsidian Class.
Roland, on the other hand, was a new face and wearing a magic robe. He was obviously a student of the Ruby Class.
A newbie dared to stand in the middle of the road?
After a brief daze, the group of people stopped and looked at each other in surprise.
Eventually, a middle-aged man walked straight to Roland.
Under such circumstances, if Roland didn't greet him, he would have to make way according to the unspoken rules of the Red Magic Tower.
But Roland still didn't move.
The middle-aged Mage who came over looked slightly annoyed. Then, he pointed at Roland and began to chant a spell as he walked.
Ice cold magic condensed at the tip of his finger, and just as he was about to launch the ice magic, a huge blue fist came head-on. It was so fast that almost no one could react.
With a single punch, the Magician was sent flying back more than ten meters, landing at the feet of the group of people.
Although the Magician was vomiting blood, at least his life was not in danger.
Someone in the Meteorite Class immediately cast Mild Healing on the wounded Mage.
Anger grew in the crowd.
Another rather good-looking middle-aged man took a few steps forward. He looked at Roland coldly and asked, "Boy, what's the meaning of this?"
"I heard that there's a rule here. As long as you win, you don't have to make way for the seniors, nor do you have to run errands for them." "That's why I'm here to give it a try. After all, I don't like to be ordered around."
So he was here to issue a challenge.
The students of the Meteorite Class all felt great fury rising from their hearts.
As the Heavenly Talents who were about to graduate and might become Masters in a couple of years, they had been provoked by a newcomer of the Ruby Class who was at least ten years younger than them and had just started the semester.
Uncle could tolerate it, but aunt couldn't.
The middle-aged man cast a Magic Shield on himself first. Then, he walked forward and pointed at Roland. "Who do you think you are? You ambushed Cador when he wasn't paying attention. As long as you're prepared …"
Roland didn't listen to his nonsense. He snapped his fingers again, and the blue hand next to him clenched its fist and punched again. At the same time, three more blue Hands of Magic appeared on the middle-aged man's left and right.
The four giant fists pounded the middle-aged Mage nonstop.
Each punch carried a force of almost four tons, and every punch caused enormous ripples on the middle-aged Mage's Magic Shield.
The middle-aged Mage's magic power was drained so quickly that he couldn't even cast a spell. After all, it wasn't easy to cast a spell while his magic power was being drained.
Three seconds later, the middle-aged Mage's Magic Shield was broken, and he was punched back into the crowd.
The four Hands of Magic flew back to Roland.
The middle-aged Mage vomited a mouthful of blood and looked at Roland gloomily. Then, he passed out.
"Next."
Roland's smile was as gentle as a breeze in early spring.
Next, another four middle-aged Mages came out to be killed. After all six of them were beaten to the point of vomiting blood, sixteen Hands of Magic were floating around Roland.
Those sixteen Hands of Magic made a flower-picking gesture and floated behind Roland's head in the style of the Thousand-Hand Guanyin, forming an enormous circle.
It was as if a mighty person had arrived.
Looking at their six companions who were lying on the ground, nobody dared to come forward anymore, but someone asked, "Sixteen Hands of Magic, and they're so huge. What spell is this?"
A regular Hand of Magic was about the size of an adult's arm or palm.
"A spell of my own." Roland smiled. "I call this combination skill 'Persuasion by Reasoning.'"
The middle-aged men and a middle-aged woman all had rather awful expressions.
They could tell that the Hands of Magic were flying very fast and could attack before they cast their spells. Also, the power of each punch was quite astonishing.
Even with their magic shields, they couldn't last long.
They had been blocked at the door of the classroom by a freshman, and nobody could deal with him at all.
But who could do it?
They were all academic Mages who majored in magic theory, node studies, and enchantment studies.
In terms of academics, they thought that they were much better than the boy before them.
However, they didn't have much experience in fighting.
At this moment, they finally understood why their mentors said that a Mage had to be able to cast all the spells below level three instantly in order to become a real Battle Mage.
If they couldn't cast their spells instantly, they couldn't defeat the boy at all.
The boy had been playing the same trick since the beginning. He attacked first, but they couldn't crack it at all.
At this moment, another middle-aged man walked out of the classroom.
Seeing him, the senior students of the Meteorite Class felt that they had found their backbone.
"Naxero, you're finally out."
The middle-aged man wasn't exactly handsome, but he was rather steady and calm when he walked out. He even gave off the feeling of a spring breeze.
The man nodded at his classmates and then smiled at Roland. "It seems that you have some misunderstandings about us."
"Not at all. I'm just challenging the rules." Roland smiled and said, "If you want to fight, just fight. Cut the crap."
Naxero frowned. Then, he chuckled and said in a persuasive tone, "Young man, it seems that you're from a family of Battle Mages. You're very good at fighting, but you're not a Master yet. Also … the limits of the real academic Mages can't be reached by Battle Mages. Your methods are too simple. It's not hard to crack them. My classmates are just not used to fighting."
Roland heaved a sigh. "Who knows what you're talking about? If you want to fight, just fight. If you don't, just admit defeat. I don't have time to waste on you."
Coldness flashed in Naxero's eyes. He stepped forward and pointed at Roland.
A bright silver Chain Lightning hit Roland instantly.
As the monitor of the Meteorite Class, Naxero was a genius in evoking magic. He could cast most level-two spells instantly.
Seeing that the Chain Lightning hit Roland, and the Hands of Magic behind Roland hadn't moved yet, the middle-aged men were about to shout in delight.
But in the next moment, their cries were all stuck in their throats.
The Chain Lightning did hit Roland, but it wandered around him.
A seemingly thin Magic Shield blocked the Chain Lightning.
Roland smiled, and sixteen Hands of Magic flew at Naxero at the same time.
Right when they were about to hit Naxero, the man suddenly disappeared.
Then, he suddenly appeared behind Roland, and with a whoosh, a ring of white ice burst out and froze Roland where he was.
Although the ice was blocked by the Magic Shield, the shield was temporarily stuck to the thick ice.
Roland was basically frozen where he was.
Removing the Magic Shield would remove the stickiness, but the problem was that it would take at least five seconds to remove the Magic Shield. Also, it was foolish to remove the Magic Shield in a battle.
Roland was lost for words as he looked at the thick ice around him.
Teleportation and the Ice Ring were his favorite tricks, but he didn't expect that he would be tricked by someone else first.
After freezing Roland, Naxero flashed again and appeared thirty meters away. His voice came over from afar. "I just realized that the maximum range of your Hands of Magic is twenty-five meters. I'm safe in this position, and you can't move. As long as I cast a spell above level three, you won't be able to escape even if it takes time to chant. You'll definitely lose …"
Roland snapped his fingers with a smile and suddenly appeared next to Naxero. They were less than three meters away from each other.
At the same time, Roland released his mental power and interfered with the magic elements around, making it impossible for Naxero to teleport. Of course, he couldn't either.
But the problem was that Roland had sixteen Hands of Magic with him.
Looking at Naxero's pale face, Roland smiled. "What a coincidence. I can teleport too."
Then, he pointed the sixteen Hands of Magic at the enemy and punched him one after another.
Every punch left blurred shadows and splashing sounds. They even created the illusion that the barrage of punches was too heavy.
Pa! Pa! Pa!
Pa! In no more than one second, Naxero's Magic Shield was broken.
He was flung a dozen meters away.
Roland then flashed back to the middle of the classroom. Looking at the dumbfounded middle-aged men, he said slowly, "Next!"
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