Kingdom’s Bloodline

early morning.

In the dark and deserted auditorium, a young apprentice knelt on the edge of the podium, pouted his buttocks and tried to reach out, trying to reach the bottom of the podium.

Who the hell came up with this design?

The apprentice tried his best to stretch out his hand, his face flushed from holding back.

Install the echo stone in the hidden grid of the podium?

The beauty is beautiful, but it is hard for them to maintain the classroom teaching assistants.

Finally, with a soft sound, he successfully took off the last precious polyphonic stone.

The apprentice sat back on the ground, gasped and looked at the polyphonic stone in his hand, which had become extremely smooth due to repeated use, and then breathed a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, this piece is not broken.

Ten more...well, maybe five classes.

The apprentice carefully wrapped the polyphonic stone, then picked up the charcoal pencil, and re-trace the somewhat faded polyphonic circle in front of the podium.

His movements are proficient and habitual, his expression is serious and concentrated, and the complex and changeable magic circles are displayed lightly and unimpededly under his pen.

The apprentice also conveniently corrected several wrong designs that hindered the magic circle, making it operate more smoothly, and perhaps prolonging the lifespan of the polyphonic stone.

Of course, with a touch of complacency, the apprentice thought in his heart, this must not be discovered by others, otherwise he will face the review of the "Magic Management Committee" again.

Thinking of this, the color on the apprentice's face suddenly disappeared.

After finishing the last stroke, the apprentice stood up with a sore back and looked at his seat: there were two stacks of parchment paper, three large bags of test papers, and an equipment box for teaching assistants.

The apprentice sighed.

Mr. Donovan's lecture will be in the afternoon.

He has to prepare the equipment quickly, including the roster, name tags, recording pens, broadcasting instruments, molds, and corresponding guest manuals...

Why are there so many lectures on a boring topic?

The Seat of Ten Thousand Laws has also fallen.

The apprentice thought badly, walked to the other side of the classroom, and looked at the calendar on the wall.

[October 29, Empire 839, Saturday. 】

【off day. 】

[The Kings 314, Jericho Rhine Mindis, a lifelong mage, craftsman, poet, historian, swordsman, and author of "Biography of the King of Iron and Blood", was born today. 】

[The important thing is not the choice itself, but the choice—Mindis. 】

On the calendar, the painted mage Mindis stands on the top of the mountains, looking at the distant sunrise with a deep expression, with sad eyes.

It's been three years.

The apprentice sighed slowly, and then mercilessly tore off Master Mindis, who was concerned about the country and the people, together with yesterday, and crumpled them into a ball.

Expose "today":

[October 30, Empire 839, Sunday. 】

[Holy Day Holiday. 】

[In the 58th year of the Kings, the military strategist, the commander of the battle for saints, and King Ansett died today. 】

【Gentlemen, we leave our lives at this moment just to leave hope for tomorrow. ——King Ansett]

On the calendar is the back of a fully armored cavalry, rushing straight down on the ice peak, rushing towards the dark army formation below.

The apprentice stuffed "Master Mindis" into his hands expressionlessly, and it became smaller and smaller as he kneaded it.

Why do lectures have to be on weekends...

at this moment.

"real?"

A young male voice came, bright, light, and enthusiastic.

The apprentice was startled. He turned around and found that at some point, there was an unexpected visitor in the classroom.

The guest was sitting next to his seat, pulling out a stack of parchment rolls from his assistant bag, flipping them from time to time, watching with gusto:

""Common Explanation of Origin Theory, Metasystem Concept, Transfiguration Magic, and Spirit Summoning Array—New Evidence from the Prehistoric Battlefield in the North"?"

Just hearing the first half of the sentence, the apprentice was shocked!

My God, that's—

He ran towards the guests in a frenzy, but he tripped over a ladder on the way and fell like a dog eating shit.

The guest was still reading the scroll in his hand with great interest, with a relaxed expression.

The young apprentice didn't care about the painful palm, got up in twos and threes, and rushed towards the guest with gritted teeth:

"That'smine!"

The guest then raised his head and gave him a free and easy smile.

He has long hair past the ear, fair complexion, very handsome, with an elegant sitting posture but an extraordinary bearing.

A handsome man.

Like a person in a painting.

The apprentice grabbed the seat beside him and stopped abruptly so as not to bump into each other.

"Yeah, I saw the signature."

"There is also a comment on rejecting the manuscript," the handsome man chuckled, raised the scroll in his hand to the apprentice, and turned out a page of red comment:

"'Self-gratifying, irrational fantasies'."

The apprentice turned red.

He looked at the comment, as if he had been strangled by the neck, and his originally confident voice dropped several degrees in an instant:

"That is--"

The apprentice struggled for a while, and finally said stubbornly:

"None of your business."

The handsome man smiled softly.

The apprentice noticed that the other party's clothes were not like the usual colors and styles in the tower. On the contrary, his mage's robe was colorful, trendy in design, expensive in material, and seemed to reflect light like stars in the morning light.

strangeness.

who is he?

"So you're that one?"

The guest continued to turn over the scroll in his hand:

"That 'magic stick mage' from the Red Horn Tower?"

The apprentice was taken aback.

Because of the unique architectural style of the main tower, the Tower of Soul is nicknamed the "Red Horn Tower" by the apprentices of other magic towers.

But they never mentioned this title themselves, that is to say...

However, the apprentice who came back to his senses was quickly attracted by another breath:

"God—god stick?"

What the hell is this called?

The handsome man nodded.

"So you really believe it," the guest raised his eyes from the scroll, and nodded gently to the apprentice, like a spring breeze:

"In the battle of chasing saints more than a thousand years ago, King Ansett opened the gate of hell, and relied on the power of mysterious demons to defeat the ancient orcs?"

The apprentice blinked, staring at the manuscript paper in the other's hand, he understood something.

"Magic stick mage, all right."

The apprentice sighed, and raised an index finger, as if he was used to this scene thousands of times:

"Listen, I'm not a magic stick, and I never said that the ancient orcs were defeated by demons..."

But the guest interrupted him immediately:

"But your paper, the reviewer's comments are written like this."

The other party turned out a page from the scroll and showed it to the apprentice.

A paragraph was circled with a red pen, and the comment on one side read "If you like demons so much, I suggest you go to the gate of hell to continue your studies."

The apprentice took a breath, and then his face turned red.

He seemed to be insulted, and his voice was hurried:

"This is... this is taken out of context!"

The guest looked at him with a smile and didn't make a sound.

This makes the apprentice feel even more upset.

He dodged his thesis with his hands, turned it skillfully and habitually, and picked out a crumpled page randomly:

"look?"

Angrily, he pointed to one of the sketches filled with annotations, which looked like a human skeleton:

"The latest evidence of ancient battlefields unearthed under Fort Aaronde...the remains of more than a thousand ancient human warriors, with distinctive features of the early Kings period...most of the samples were treated innumerably in multiple parts blows and injuries..."

The guest leaned closer and watched with relish.

The apprentice spoke faster and faster: "No matter the extent and quantity are far beyond our imagination, some corpses even shattered the skull while being pierced through the heart..."

"I guess," the handsome man smiled slightly, his long hair fluttering: "This means that the ancient knights of the kings fought very bravely? They fought the orcs without retreating? They suffered huge injuries?"

"No!"

The apprentice was decisive, trying to shake the scroll in his hand:

"This means that they have suffered more than one fatal trauma during their lifetime! More than once!"

He tried to repeat the point.

"Maybe, the extraordinary power of the ancients is stronger?"

The handsome man's tone is still joking:

"It's like the physique of ancient orcs is far superior to contemporary orcs?"

The apprentice felt insulted.

"No!"

He raised his volume, gritted his teeth, and habitually raised his fingers, repeating tirelessly:

"No human being could have suffered even one fatal blow like that! None!"

"No matter how tough the will is, it won't work! No!"

"No matter how powerful the extraordinary power is, there is no way, no way!"

Every time he emphasized it, the handsome man would nod with a smile on his face.

It seems to be very understanding.

"Then?"

The apprentice took a deep breath and turned to the next page.

"Then, I dug out the remains from the ground with my own hands, and then thawed out the frozen bodies. I swear, the flesh and blood remaining in those things are still alive. If it weren't for my quick eyesight and quick hands... the more than a thousand bodies dug up by our research team Corpse, I will list all the specific data here..."

But the apprentice's words stopped abruptly.

I saw that in the paper, the part he pointed to was circled with red pen, and the original appearance could hardly be seen clearly. There were replies written in different handwriting: "The statistical method is too rough", "Is there any deviation in the processing selection", "It is recommended to re-select the sample" , "Tests are not convincing", "Correlation does not equal causation", etc.

One of the most eye-catching lines is: "Is your math taught by your fencing teacher?"

The handsome man seemed to be unable to restrain his laughter.

The apprentice blushed and stuffed the paper into the bag.

"In short, it is no longer a category that can be explained by the 'Front Sharpening', 'Strengthening Magic', 'Material Affinity' of the Alchemy Tower, or the 'Light and Shadow Flute' and 'Soul Body Theory' of the Soul Tower, let alone What about the extraordinary power of 'will affects the body'."

He's still trying to explain:

"I guess you can't find anything like that in even the most perverted ascetic's tower..."

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 similar things that ignore the basic laws and completely change the form of life from the inside out..."

Disregarding the basic laws, inside and out...

"You mean..."

The guest pondered, and said lightly:

"A record of religious exorcism in the Myojin Church?"

The apprentice's words froze.

The handsome man chuckled lightly:

"So, back to the devil again."

The apprentice cleared his throat.

"No, not all, and it doesn't have to be Myojin..."

"However," he tried hard to justify something, but finally gave up his efforts, and his voice became low:

"Yeah, mostly."

"At least that's... the potential circumstantial evidence that can be referred to at present."

The apprentice looked decadent, and he elbowed the bag containing the papers:

"I just want to say that if we are willing to let go of our prejudices and re-examine the relevant religious texts and even legends, it will, I mean, maybe it will help."

What the guest understands:

"So the reviewers think that you are advocating mystical or even religious theories like 'the existence of demons'?"

The apprentice's expression darkened completely:

"They even asked me with a smirk if I went to the 'Gate of Hell' again to listen to sermons."

The apprentice looked dully at the crumpled thesis manuscript paper in the bag.

God is sorry, the gate of hell, he has only been there once, okay?

Still got tricked in!

The big sister who preaches is so intellectual, so mature, so beautiful...

Turns out I like it...

The apprentice shook his head, chasing away the unpleasant memory.

After he smelled the bloody smell of the life sacrifice, he immediately tried to escape, okay?

"I understand your question."

The guest suddenly spoke.

The apprentice looked up.

"What?"

The handsome man touches his chin lightly,

"A rare transformation magic that works on the source level..."

"Use the contemporary meta-system hypothesis to explain those ancient spirit-calling arrays that have been despised for a long time..."

The guest uses the terminology of his paper expertly:

"You are trying to establish an argument acceptable to mages—from the perspective of modern magic, to explain the unspeakable mysterious phenomenon."

The handsome man raised his eyes:

"For the convenience of drafting?"

"Application for funding for further research?"

The apprentice snorted, quite a bit self-defeating:

"It's not the same."

"Besides, the archaeological excavation is over, and it's long gone."

The huge classroom was silent for a while, and the two were separated by a seat, silent.

A few seconds later, to the apprentice's surprise, the guest neither comforted nor laughed at him—this was the most treatment he had received in the past month or so.

"Divinity."

The handsome man turned his head and asked seriously and seriously:

"Why not magic?"

The apprentice was taken aback.

"What?"

The handsome man lowered his head, his eyes sparkling.

"Disregarding fundamental laws and radically changing the shape of life."

"In countless religious records and legends, miracles and magic arts have shown the same effect, haven't they?"

The handsome man said every word:

"Living dead, flesh and bones, rehabilitated body, god-making envoy."

The apprentice paused for a long time before hesitatingly said:

"I... that's not the focus of my research."

"I'm not a believer in Myojin, not... a magic stick."

He said sullenly.

But the handsome man looked at him for a long time, but smiled.

"Actually, you thought of it, didn't you?"

The handsome man's words carried the power of bewitching: "Moreover, there are more and more detailed records of miracles and magic arts."

"But you failed to write it."

The apprentice trembled slightly.

After a while, the apprentice exhaled and patted his thesis:

"Just writing it like this is enough to make people think that I am a magic stick..."

His tone seemed to admit his fate:

"I still want to keep my job."

The guest fell silent.

"I thought the Tower of Soul was very open."

The handsome man said softly:

"Here, everyone has and should have an 'independent and free soul'."

The apprentice snorted lightly, disapprovingly.

"No matter how independent they are, they are still human beings."

He sat back in his seat and looked at the ceiling, with an indescribable disappointment in his tone:

"No matter how free they are, they are still mages."

"There is an inborn rejection of certain things."

These words made the handsome man fall into deep thought.

"They don't believe that there are other ways besides theirs that can be called 'reason', and dismiss them as 'foolish'-by the standards of magic."

The apprentice said it ecstatically:

"They believe that even if they can be doubted, even if they can be falsified, even if they finally overthrow their own established arguments, they must and can only do so in their own way-otherwise it is just a fool's talk and irrational."

"They believe that everything that exists in the world must be explained by the logic they recognize to be reasonable."

"Because magic is advanced, and magic is truth."

The apprentice sighed.

"We're so 'progressive' as mages," he said listlessly:

"As a result, we can no longer 'progress'."

Another unspeakable silence.

Until the handsome man raised his head.

"too big."

The apprentice showed doubts.

I saw the handsome man flicking his hair casually and happily:

"Your complaint is too broad, but it's not about the idea of ​​magic."

"It's just a mage, it's just a human thing."

The apprentice was taken aback:

"I do not understand?"

The handsome man gave a chic smile, which dazzled him a little:

"The reason you were rejected—was politics."

The apprentice's face changed slightly:

"sorry?"

The handsome man reached out his hand unceremoniously, and tapped the apprentice's forehead:

"To be precise, it's about the right to speak about magic research, dominance, vested interests, and the structure of the Magic Tower's personnel—politics."

The apprentice looked at him blankly.

What, what do you mean?

The handsome man pulled out the parchment from between them:

"Especially this 'we should put our heads down and re-examine religious lore'."

"The reason they reject that argument is because of recent events."

The apprentice rolled his eyes.

recent?

I saw the handsome man flipping through his thesis while smiling mysteriously:

"Three months ago, the Seat of Ten Thousand Laws lost in the truth debate with the Northland Diocese."

The apprentice's expression changed.

The Seat of Ten Thousand Laws represents the Soul Tower, and it didn't go well in the debate. He knew this, and he also received a lot of discussions with apprentices from the Seat of Power.

But isn't it normal that there are winners and losers in debates?

Something to do with his thesis?

The handsome man continued:

"Unfortunately, the Duke of Northland and the governor of the province is among those who are listening. The influence is quite deep, and the consequences are not small."

The handsome man squinted and smiled:

"The approval of the Aaronde family, including the strong recommendation of the Myojin Catholic Church, allowed the young bishop of the Northland Diocese to go south to the triumphant capital and enter the Supreme Palace to preach for the nobles of the imperial capital, including the royal family. It is said that he also met with His Majesty the Emperor hit it off, and we talked very happily."

"This matter has become a good talk for a while, spreading throughout the twenty-three provinces of the empire."

"There are even rumors that His Majesty intends to let this young, promising but knowledgeable Bishop of the Northland serve as the Prime Minister of the Empire in order to replace Count Renato, who has been criticized for his ineffectiveness in countering the rebellion."

A series of inexplicable nouns and events stunned the apprentice's brain filled with corpses and skeletons:

"so?"

The handsome man closed the scroll, leaned on the arm of the seat, and approached him with a half-smile.

"So, now not only you Red Horn Tower, but also the top management of the Three Towers urgently need to regroup, save face, strengthen confidence, and let people believe again: magic is the truth in the world, and mages are the right way for human beings."

Snapped!

The handsome man waved the paper and gently slapped the ignorant apprentice on the forehead.

"But at this moment, you handed in such a paper so desperately."

"Say, 'Hey, maybe the stories written by those magicians make sense', and want to apply for funding and set up a research group?"

The apprentice understood something, he took the crumpled paper off his head, and looked at the guest stupidly.

"If they let you pass..."

The handsome man snorted softly:

"Then what about the authority of magic in the minds of most students at such a time when people are panicking and morale is low?"

"What about the court mages' right to speak in the big families of the empire?"

"What if the nobles no longer believe in reason and turn to the mystic?"

"What we have spent thousands of years to obtain, this whole set of research systems and systems, demonstration methods and principles, what about their guiding status in the magic system?"

The apprentice held the thesis tightly in his arms and blinked in confusion.

What?

"the most important is……"

The handsome man chuckled, stretched out his hand, and tapped the apprentice's forehead:

"In case what saved mankind a thousand years ago was not magic, not mages, not human's own wisdom and power, but really illusory gods and demons... After the 'Great Reconciliation', we have finally established it in the hearts of the majority of people." , what about the absolute superiority of the church’s faith?”

The apprentice took a deep breath, and he was a little annoyed after straightening out the logic:

"But...but if that's the truth..."

The handsome man's voice suddenly turned cold and interrupted him:

"Then this truth should be buried and never see the light of day."

The handsome man lowered his face, but he had a stern charm:

"Unless the truth is beneficial to us, it 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 like such a small gesture—and said:

"Knowledge is also constructed by power."

"I love my teacher first, then I love the truth."

The apprentice shook his head, fleeing from the small movements of the guest.

He thought carefully about every word the other said.

A question was revealed, but endless questions followed.

He looked at the guest suspiciously:

"You...you just said, who are you from?"

The handsome man sat back in his seat, his smile became more mysterious.

"I didn't say it, but..."

He raised his chin slightly, stretched out his right hand, and cleverly hid his arrogance in a joking tone:

"Macintosh."

"Macinta Renato."

The handsome man said softly:

"Nice to meet you."

The apprentice subconsciously held the other's smooth and fair noble hands, which were evident from the fact that they hadn't done much farm work:

"Oh, yes, I'm glad to recognize... wait, Renato?"

The apprentice's expression changed.

Surnamed Renato, such a young mage...

He thought of something, first he recalled it hastily, and the moment he thought of it, his whole body was shocked!

"My God, you're the one..."

He pointed at the Macintosh in horror:

"The orthodox imperial nobleman, the descendant of the six stars who founded the country, the dandy son of the current prime minister, the fiancé of the 'Mysterious Blue' princess in the royal family, the one who is only obsessed with magic but not an official..."

McIntosh smiled and listened to the apprentices counting out the titles, seeming to be quite used to it and enjoying it.

The apprentice's expression was slightly stagnant.

"No, how do I remember, the War Tower snatched you away before us...how did you..."

war tower.

Macintosh paused slightly:

"Yes, I am indeed an apprentice belonging to the Alchemy Tower."

The apprentice nodded spontaneously:

"So, you are a muscular guy—cough cough, I'm sorry, you were sent by the Alchemy Tower to visit, which one's lectures are you here to attend?"

But Macintosh shook his head:

"No, I'm here to study."

"I am the beneficiary of the newly released 'Horn of War' Twin Towers Joint Training Program."

horn of war.

Apprentices understand that, as the name suggests, it refers to the mainstay of the magic world, the two magic towers of Alchemy and Soul, commonly known as 'War' and 'Red Horn' among mages, but...

"Twin towers, joint training?"

The apprentices looked at each other in surprise.

"That's right."

The handsome man nodded with a bright smile, as if taking away the darkness in the classroom:

"I was a joint student for two and a half years—a joint student."

oh.

The apprentice patted his head foolishly.

Why does this sound weird, it seems that something is not right...

but.

Rare.

According to the legend, the two towers who scorned each other as "muscle guy" and "thinker" did not have huge differences in everything from magical concepts to organizational structure, from high-level relations to apprenticeship competition. Do you communicate?

McIntosh cleared his throat, put away his smile that could fascinate half of the imperial girls and quarter of the imperial boys:

"Listen, I have a research project in hand."

He looked at the apprentice seriously:

"Maybe you'll be interested."

The apprentice hummed softly in his heart.

I said so.

Why did I come to the empty classroom early in the morning, muttering.

The magic review period has come, and it seems that he is the organizer of a certain empty research project again. A large amount of mysterious accounts cannot be reimbursed.

The apprentice lazily said:

"So, what's the research topic?"

McIntosh smiled slightly, his long hair was obviously cast with the wind-following spell, floating 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, and some things that we need to overthrow deeply-rooted beliefs that we don't want to touch before we can get them."

The apprentice replied perfunctorily:

"oh……"

Unsurprisingly, even the subject of the research is inexplicable...

Until the other party's next sentence.

"And our research field is underground in Fort Aaronde in the Northland Province, between the mountainsides."

A few seconds later, the apprentice who understood it suddenly changed color.

He stood up abruptly, looked at Macintosh, and forgot to appreciate the beauty of the other party by the way:

"Underground, mountainside, you mean..."

McIntosh smiled softly and also stood up

"That's right, it's the old place mentioned in your paper, the ancient battlefield site of the Kings Period that you participated in the excavation, and the ancient underground transportation road."

The handsome man walked up to the apprentice, who happened to be a head taller than him, and looked down at him condescendingly:

"Folk nickname - 'Black Path'."

The apprentice was completely stunned.

But Macintosh didn't let him go, and skillfully told the secret that even the apprentices didn't know:

"After your Hongjiao Tower was forced to withdraw from the joint pressure of the Imperial Official Research Group, the Tower of Ascetics, and the Myojin Church, the handling of the ruins fell into the hands of the Governor of the Northland Province."

"The Duke of the North, who is good at mixing mud, originally only planned to block the entrance of the cave and build a monument of 'We killed the ancient orcs' and that's it..."

"But unfortunately, I am very familiar with the heir of the Duke of Arend, and he delegated this work to me."

The handsome man bent down and touched the apprentice's forehead:

"You know, I could just use someone like you for the monument."

He blinked.

"you."

The pupils are blue, like entering the deep sea.

The apprentice ignored the other party's overly intimate gesture, and subconsciously swallowed his throat.

"You mean...a fake project, duplicity...Isn't this illegal?"

McIntosh laughed, but did not answer directly:

"How do you say, do you want to come?"

The apprentice took a few steps back, relieving his shortness of breath due to the approach of the other party.

He glanced at the other party in surprise, and then at his paper.

black trail.

excavate.

But after a few seconds, the apprentice who had figured out something darkened his face.

"There were many people who participated in the excavation at the beginning."

The apprentice's face became dull:

"For example, my mentor, Master Donovan."

"You should go find him."

Macintosh stared at his expression and smiled.

"Donovan? Donovan who is only one step away from the title of master?"

He scratched his chin, thoughtfully:

"Well, I have studied all his works, from the early days to the present."

The apprentice chuckled.

"You are really confident."

He did not hesitate to look at the noble young master in front of him:

"During Master Donovan's career, there are a total of 163 treatises and 12 books..."

"No."

Macintosh shook his head, interrupting him.

"To be exact, one hundred and ninety-two theses, and thirteen books."

The apprentice's face suddenly changed.

I saw the handsome man in front of me lightly:

"Including some manuscripts of his studies when he was young, and an unpublished work that is being proofread."

The apprentice froze.

Fuck.

This guy is good-looking, after all, there are still many people in the world who are close to my appearance.

But, he obviously looks like a dude, and he's not very old, is he?

Could it be...

Macintosh didn't pay attention to the other's thinking:

"But unfortunately, I found that the once famous Master Donovan has become conservative and backward, and his latest books and papers are all clichés, following the scriptures and not thinking about making progress."

His words revealed deep disappointment:

"Master Donovan, you are old."

The apprentice was taken aback for a moment, and then he showed his strength to teach the students a lesson:

"Hey, you child..."

But Macintosh didn't let him go on:

"In recent years, a few of his more interesting works..."

The handsome man raised his eyes and looked directly at the apprentice holding the paper:

"It's all co-written with one of his obscure students and teaching assistants."

The apprentice froze.

"That's you."

McIntosh stared straight at him, and said softly:

"Three years ago, Thoros Mill was downgraded from a first-class apprentice to a third-class apprentice because of a serious violation of research ethics."

There was silence in the classroom.

The young apprentice, Thoros, was silent.

A few seconds later, Toros coughed lightly:

"Yes, but Master Donovan is still my mentor and employer, I think you'd better find him first..."

But this time, McIntosh ignored his words and went straight to the point:

"Are you willing?"

Thoros shuddered violently.

McIntosh sneered:

"Obviously talented, but just because of a so-called 'political mistake', he was deprived of the qualification for promotion for life."

Thoros' breathing became short of breath.

"You are a young man, but you have no future, and you will only be a third-class apprentice for the rest of your life? Even when you are anonymously reviewing, you are frequently rejected?"

In the classroom, one person was questioning with his hands behind his back, and the other was holding a paper.

Relatively silent.

Toros regains his breath with difficulty:

"Listen, three years ago, if Master Donovan hadn't protected me under pressure..."

But McIntosh's questioning followed one after another, piercing his heart like a sword full of extraordinary power:

"Are you willing?"

At this moment, the handsome man spoke harshly, like a prophet of God:

"Obviously full of ambition and infinite curiosity, but you can only hide behind the teacher, do some chores, proofread manuscripts silently, and test data?"

"besides……"

Macintosh glanced at the classroom:

"Maintain the polyphonic stone?"

Toros tightened his palms, gripping the rejected paper even tighter.

McIntosh slowly stretched out his hand:

"Now, you have a chance to prove yourself."

His tone is full of temptation:

"Join me and get back on track with magic."

"Tell those who reject you that one day, they only deserve to look up at your back."

Thoros lowered his head, unable to see his expression clearly.

fell into complete silence.

McIntosh was not in a hurry, but just waited for him quietly, quite patiently.

It seems that the other party's reaction is determined.

However, after a few seconds, Toros raised his head.

"I reject."

The apprentice opened his mouth with difficulty and slowly articulated the words.

"I am very happy here," Toros held his thesis, his tone trembling:

"I choose magic because I love it, not because of success."

Macintosh was a little surprised.

"real?"

The handsome man started to look at Torros again:

"You know, such opportunities don't come often for you, do they?"

"At least, I will provide you with enough salary..."

Torros suddenly spoke, interrupting Macintosh:

"listen!"

His face tightened, and his knuckles turned white when he was holding the paper:

"I'm still busy, and I have to rush to prepare the facilities for the next lecture..."

The apprentice didn't go on.

Macintosh raised an eyebrow.

"All right."

He nodded, feeling a little regretful:

"Pity."

The handsome man stared at each other, but the apprentice didn't say a word, seemingly unmoved.

McIntosh sighed and had to turn and leave.

The moment the other party turned around, Toros, who had been silent all the time, closed his eyes fiercely and bit his lower lip.

Like being tortured.

at this moment.

"Toros."

Macintosh didn't turn around.

"I heard that you were born in a knight's family in Chauvin, right?"

The apprentice's complexion changed.

Toros raised his head vigilantly:

"What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I just inquired about it in the tower," Macintosh didn't rush, and didn't turn around:

"You have a childhood sweetheart fiancée who committed herself to serving the gods after she became religious, so she broke the engagement."

"A nun who never gets married?"

fiancée.

Break the marriage contract.

For a moment, Toros's mind froze.

The paper in his arms groaned in pain.

Macintosh raised the corners of his mouth.

"Hey, Muscle Guy."

After a long while, Thoros, who was lost in his soul, murmured:

"This has nothing to do with you."

But Macintosh is like a hunter chasing the blood of his prey, chasing after him:

"Then, dear Tolos, you are over 18 years old before trying to squeeze into the magic tower, and you are committed to the way of magic..."

"Is she still so obsessed with explaining all kinds of mysteries with magic?"

Toros raised his head sharply, shouting angrily:

"of course not!"

Macintosh turned around and looked at the slightly trembling apprentice with a delicate expression.

Toros realized that his attitude was wrong.

He cleared his throat and tried to bring his tone back to normal:

"I, my research direction and attitude have always been the same, and will not be affected by things other than work."

He said it very firmly.

There is no doubt.

Macintosh smiled.

"That's good."

He turned around again, intentionally or unintentionally:

"Oh, by the way, let me tell you something."

"Your nun's fiancée, because of her pious faith and excellent work, was promoted by a certain young bishop and became her right-hand man."

Thoros froze.

"Oh, coincidentally, it's the one mentioned just now, Bishop Zig who was honored as the guest of honor by His Majesty the Emperor."

Macintosh's voice drilled into his ears like the whisper of a legendary demon, and he couldn't stop it:

"As a holy nun admired by believers, your fiancée—sorry, the former fiancée—is deeply trusted and bathed in divine grace."

"Dedicate yourself."

The air in the classroom seemed to freeze.

After a long while.

"Okay, I see." The apprentice said in a daze.

Macintosh looked at him, and the corners of his mouth returned to sternness.

"Then I'm leaving," the handsome man said lightly:

"Good luck to you, and your thesis."

McIntosh turned around, stepped forward, and sighed casually:

"Those missionaries, they are really powerful, aren't they?"

The opponent's footsteps slowly moved away.

No.

Thoros thought in a daze.

no.

She didn't become a believer because of the priest's bewitchment.

Because of……

because……

With a snap, the paper in Toros' hand fell to the ground.

Thoros woke up like a dream.

He squatted down silently, picking up the crumpled papers that he had crumpled.

The last page of the thesis, which was covered in scarlet letters, was a line of approval.

Although they are all anonymous reviews, this does not affect Toros' recognition of his teacher's handwriting:

[Magic, in the final analysis, is about the knowledge of people. 】

[Don't get lost in the infinite pursuit of curiosity and lose your heart. 】

Master Donovan.

Thoros' breathing became short of breath.

Knowledge about people...

His fist is getting tighter and tighter.

about people...

The apprentice's heart beat faster and faster.

people……

"Wait a moment!"

Thoros shouted loudly in the classroom.

The footsteps stopped.

Macintosh turned slowly, looking at the apprentice with a calm expression.

"Associate student..."

Toros was breathing quickly, he stared at the paper in his hand, his face changed suddenly, he seemed to be hesitating, and he seemed to be regretting.

"Your bloody research project..."

A second later, Toros looked up decisively.

He decisively threw away the parchment in his hand.

Like throwing the past away.

"When does it begin?"

McIntosh looked at the apprentice from a distance, and did not answer, with inexplicable emotions in his eyes.

Until he showed a satisfied smile.

"Soon, dear, soon."

Macintosh smiled warmly, while Torros looked stern.

"But take it easy."

"Trust me," the handsome man stared fixedly at the apprentice in front of him, his tone full of satisfaction from hunting the prey:

"Our future is still long."

()

stealing fragrance