The Black Scepter

There are some things today, go out for a day, one more offer, thank you for your support.

Seeking red tickets, seeking collection.

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The summer heat seems to be gradually away with the arrival of a few clear rains. At noon, the light rain stopped a little, and Murphys walked out of his dormitory, with Guevara and the guards who secretly guarded Murphys, but At this moment their duty is to carry luggage-a book and notes are the harvest of Murphys these days, but the lonely he is wearing that plain clothes at the moment, with a cloak for rain protection outside, holding a hand Rolling parchment, standing quietly on the road to the entrance of Tarrens College.

Unknown students gossip is abnormal, and the discussion quickly spread to the passing students, guessing why the student who was "evicted" left, and more coincidentally, Carlin and Congel who watched secretly in slander some time ago It happened to return to Tarrens College today. Two nobles formed a mighty convoy in front of the college and walked off the carriage with pride, only to find that Murphy was standing alone in front of the school gate. With luggage.

Obviously, it is the scene of rolling people away.

This time did not make the fat man Carlin and Conger laugh, and the two did not find women to spit fire in the days of "resting", but it was obvious that they did not notice the sudden suspension of classes at Tarrens College After three days of news, it took a few days to come back and look at it. The guy who once let himself suffer was expelled from the campus so desperately, naturally attributed the "credit" to the strategy he used when he left.

"Eh...Eh...Eh..."

Karin's yin and yang walked ahead, his contemptuous eyes were obvious, but he was more proud than taunting.

"Noble Master Murphy, don't know what you do here?"

Congle asked, narrowing his eyes. He had many gold teeth and he smiled insignificantly. Although there was still no translucent sunlight to shine on the shiny teeth in the cloudy weather, the ridicule was beyond words.

Murphy looked at them, shrugging his shoulders without saying anything.

There is no need to use any fists to clean up opponents. After the assassination, Murphy gradually realized that he began to use everything he could use to deal with his enemies.

"You're out of luck when you leave the school."

Carlin's tone suddenly became vicious after approaching Murphy. Behind him, the carriage outside the school gate did not leave immediately. A private guard of about ten people stood there. Obviously, the role was not just to protect their young master. .

I have to sigh that this fat man's IQ is really not enough. A nobleman who can make him suffer so much without being punished by the school or even summoned is really as simple as the noble family history written on his file. What?

In fact, people are often blinded by their self-confidence and subjective assumptions, thereby ignoring clues that outsiders look conspicuous and abnormal, or that tragedies caused by blind arrogance are often blamed.

While Congle hadn’t said anything, a loud noise came from behind the school gate-turning around and seeing the noble convoys and guards of Carlin and Conger moving closer to the road, even to the guards We all stood upright. Although this movement did not reach the salute specification, it was to show the respect of the lower nobility to the upper nobility.

In other words, a convoy of marquis or above is heading towards here.

Carlin and Congle looked at each other with strange eyes.

"Tick."

The raindrops dripped, the cloudy clouds of the sky gathered again, and the drizzle cast a light mist on the world.

In the white mist, a twelve-man guard appeared neatly in front of the school gate, and the carriage behind them lined up to protect the campus.

Twelve people, this is the number of guards that the Duke will have. The Byzantine nobility has a lot of strict rules. The number of guards traveling in a single carriage is constant and cannot be exceeded. But this is enough to prove the specifications of this carriage.

The dark red carriage moving forward in silence, four pure-colored Cabaldwin blood horses, the sense of repression and the noble atmosphere unique to the upper nobility made two children who had only seen the carriage of the Duke’s Palace hold their breath. .

Carlin and Conger took a step back involuntarily because the tall carriage required them to raise their heads to look up—unlike Earl’s Palace’s carriage, the carriage that the Duke’s Palace can carry can ride six people without being crowded.

Luxury, noble, these words are not exaggerated when used in this carriage, and even the diameter of the wheels is a circle larger than the carriage in Earls Court in the distance.

But as they stepped back and were surprised, they were even more surprised by the movement of the shabby guy-he took a step forward towards the carriage.

In the eyes of the two children, this action is a pass-by behavior that can be picked up directly by the private soldiers and thrown into the prison!

But the next moment, the tall carriage stopped straight in front of the boy.

Like a rest symbol, the sound of a horseshoe stopped suddenly.

The raindrops slipped and the emblem of the purple iris was no longer covered. The old housekeeper of the Windsor family walked off the carriage and bowed to salute. .

Murphys Windsor, the last heir of the Windsor family, gently covered the manuscript of Aquinas's handbook of Theology, held in his arms, facing the old housekeeper Nodding slightly, he immediately embarked on the carriage representing the nobleman of the first step of Constantine's core circle.

From beginning to end, never looked back.

The old housekeeper turned his face slightly in the drizzle, and his eyes stayed on the two arrogant anomalies for a few seconds. The invisible cold made the two fall into the ice cave, but the two in the dull state can only watch this The old man with a straight waist board re-entered the carriage and waved the reins indifferently.

The carriage slowly left and disappeared into the mist brought by the drizzle under the protection of the guard.

At this moment, Murphy, riding a dust.

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As the first magic academy in the empire and even on the mainland, Pansell Institute of Magic will never admit a waste.

There was a faint line of inscriptions on the first wall that walked into the giant tower of the Pansell School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, written in the ancient Klingon language-"Superstition, depression, and hypocrisy, but the truth has always been a beggar. "

The magicians are such a group of people seeking truth.

The current and thirty-seventh dean of the Panther School of Magic received the golden oak badge of this ancient academy at the age of nineteen. The Wizards of the Heavens is worthy of the name, but his achievements after receiving this medal are even more powerful. Mainland magicians are generally divided into three basic titles: magician, magician, and magician. Each level is divided into three levels: low, middle, and high. However, there is still a level like a big magician above these classes, but the name is not rigid.

The dean of Pansell School of Magic has the title of "Holy Magister of the Holy Dome". This title is basically the highest level that can be assessed by the Magic Guild at present. That is to say, among the peerless strong, this dean must There is a place.

When he became dean of the Pansell School of Magic, Freud was 82 years old.

For the successive deans, this is a record-breaking young age-the magician is not like a swordsman or a knight. As the latter two of the physical profession, their power will usually begin to decline after the age of fifty, unless they reach the peak, Generally, at the age of eighty, the peak is no longer in the crowd, but the magician can prolong life after comprehending the higher mystery-from a physiological point of view, UU reads www. Uukanshu.com high-level magicians can reduce the environmental damage to their bodies and reduce the speed of aging, so the longest-lived magicians can be more than three hundred years old.

Of course, this is already the theoretical limit.

Freud, dean of the 113-year-old Pansell School of Magic, has been in this position for decades. Although he has lived for more than a century, he still has the appearance of a nearly middle-aged person. Spirited.

It was he who waved his hand and rejected the request of the Duke of the Empire, Akar Windsor, for his son to enter the academy, without leaving a trace of affection.

Still the same sentence-Pansell, no need for waste and unknown people.

Freud was quietly reading a report in the principal's office and his personal laboratory at the moment. The style of the room interpreted an arcane magician to the extreme, with purple flashes of runes and even cloth. The floor is full, every piece of equipment on the test bench is valuable, and half of the experimental magic array painted is as complicated as a maze. The Moir crystal glasses used to protect the eyes that cannot be opened under the strong light are set aside. Everything looks messy. In fact, it is orderly.

The desk is not big, but it is full of parchment and books. Most of the above are the strength assessment and recent performance of the Magic Academy for students, but at the moment he is frowning at a letter he just received.

The content was very short, but Freud suddenly stood up after reading, and quickly walked to the huge stone door of the office. Unexpectedly, the dean's door that only he was qualified to open had been opened gently.

The young and graceful figure reflected in Freud's eyes in the soft light of the corridor. The one-hundred-year-old holy dome majestic stopped at the next moment, one-handed chest, slightly bowed, gesture Humble and respectful:

"Can't think of you coming in person..."