Chapter 19: The Storm in the Northern Lands - Mission

Here lies one of the intermediate academies of the Red Robe Mage Association nestled at the foot of the Sael Mountains.

Any mage wandering through Phaelon would be deeply astounded upon scrutinizing the educational institutions of the Red Robe Mages.

In Sael, every child must undergo examination at the age of six. Even the slightest trace of arcane talent would warrant enrollment in basic academies akin to Lakeside Academy, receiving impartial foundational training. Those who attain first-tier spellcasting within six years gain access to intermediate academies for further studies. Achieving second-tier spellcasting qualifies one for the status of an apprentice Red Robe after a period of trial, leading to advanced education and training. Only when one reaches third-tier spellcasting, following rigorous refinement and testing, does one qualify as a full-fledged Red Robe Mage.

The scholarly ethos and educational milieu of the Red Robes are renowned worldwide. Such rigorous education instills a perpetual sense of competition and urgency in their apprentices, naturally resulting in astonishing learning efficiency. Even the least proficient Red Robe apprentice surpasses the average proficiency of Phaelon mages—albeit they manage to survive.

Even the legitimate descendants of Naisserel's royals, the Princes of Shade in the Shadowghost City, acknowledge that the arcane educational system of the Red Robes is the epitome of excellence in Phaelon.

Now, within one of the intermediate academies under this pinnacle mage educational system, a human tragedy unfolds.

"Aooh!—"

Within a classroom, a boy of eleven or twelve is bound to a chair with a living rope. Clad in a black apprentice robe adorned with red trim, he wears a grotesque mask featuring tentacles, four of which delve deep into his skull from the nose and ears, emitting a constant sucking sound. With each suck, the boy emits a chorus of agonizing screams.

Yet, this tentacled monstrosity lacks a corporeal form; beneath its neck extends a pipe, evidently a product of some arcane experiment.

"Observe closely," the bespectacled mentor gestured towards the wailing subject encumbered by the ensorcelled demon head, "Our laboratory's ensnaring demon specimen has a history of several decades. If not for the spell's inadequate simulation of suction, our esteemed classmate, Rorxus, would have perished long ago..."

"Master, I am swiftly approaching death!" the apprentice, his features already oozing blood under the demon head's influence, wailed and shrieked in agony.

"Oh, dear Rorxus, it pains me to have to bid you farewell," the mentor wore a regretful expression, yet his words carried a nervous undertone, "You are truly exceptional. At only twelve years old, you have already attained the rank of a third-tier mage. I can almost envision you taking my place in the future...just as I did with my own mentor. Regrettably, for the sake of my own survival, I must now preemptively curtail your future."

"Oh no!" Rorxus exclaimed loudly as the ethereal suction of the demon head emitted a slurping sound. With a splatter, copious amounts of brain matter spewed forth from his features, his head slumping limply to one side.

"Now, everyone, what are your thoughts on this experiment?" the red-robed mentor snapped his fingers, prompting an elderly figure clad in black robes to enter and collect the deceased apprentice's remains, his demeanor unchanged as he glanced at the students engrossed in note-taking.

"Before conducting experiments, one should secure a reliable rope and prepare a stupefying or human paralyzing spell," one student replied.

The Red Robe mage burst into laughter, then scanned the seating area with some surprise. "Why haven't we seen Master Sean?" he inquired.

"He has graduated," came the response from another student.

"Indeed, it's a pity. If he were here, he would surely have crafted an excellent thesis," remarked the Red Robed mage, his countenance devoid of any trace of regret. "Let us proceed with another experiment..."

As an elite product of the celestial empire's quality education system, classmate Penny Sien was adept at completing assignments and copying them, or concocting a sufficiently reliable academic report or paper using the standardized templates stored in his mind. These abilities were beyond doubt. However, like any student, he had no fondness for homework, and he was no exception. Therefore, after acquiring the desired spells, he promptly chose to graduate.

Now, six months have passed since his return to the Red Robe Mage Association. Currently, he finds himself in the principal's office of this intermediate academy, facing Reng Jinhua, who is brewing mint tea.

Five months ago, Reng Jinhua gained access to the fifth layer of the magical network, earning recognition from the upper echelons of the Red Robe Mage Association and ascending to the rank of a formal Circle Instructor. His administrative status was upgraded from elementary school principal to middle school principal. Now, as he scrutinized the academy's newly produced graduate, a faint furrow appeared on his brow, indicating some dissatisfaction. "Spider Web Spell, Deafening Darkness, Dreaded Blade of Pain, Ghoul's Grasp... are these the spells you've prepared for today? I must say, your spell selection is quite problematic."

"What seems to be the issue?"

"Can't you try spells from other schools besides Conjuration, Necromancy, and Thaumaturgy?"

"I also possess skills in the field of Protection, like this one," Penny uttered an incantation, causing an invisible film to envelop his body.

"I believe you should endeavor to learn spells from other schools as well. It would greatly benefit your research into deeper levels of arcane arts," Jinhua shook his head, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"But that would excessively damage brain cells," Penny sneered. "Master, you are aware of my limited talents. I cannot grasp overly complex spells."

In the intermediate academy's studies, Penny has roughly mastered the schools of Thaumaturgy, Conjuration, and Necromancy. As for the other schools, they seem too time-consuming, and he is unwilling to expend energy on them.

"Well, it matters little to what you are about to do," Jinhua shook his head.

"What am I about to do?" Penny set down his teacup.

"You must understand, no mage organization on Ferun would impart the arcane techniques to apprentices without cost."

"Cost? Are you referring to apprentices losing their lives for no reason, or encouraging them to hone their skills and minds through mutual combat?" Penny shook his head indifferently. "If these costs are deemed insufficient, dear mentor, what else do you think I should do?"

Penny was mentally prepared for Jinhua's words. Indeed, on Ferun, no mage organization would teach spells to apprentices without a price. Each spell learned by a mage exacted a cost, whether in terms of money or sweat and blood.

Mr. Jinhua didn't seem to mind Penny's sarcastic tone. In fact, after the incident six months ago, Penny had become more open in his attitude toward this usually taciturn mentor. He discovered that the Red Robed mage's temper was actually quite good; typical verbal provocations failed to provoke him.

"In the past year, an organization has emerged within the Desperate Eastern Territory," Mr. Jinhua took a sip of his cool tea, composed his words, and slowly continued, "Their activities are quite vigorous, and they are particularly targeting our Red Robe Mage Association. We have lost three high-ranking Circle Instructors due to their attacks, and several mid-level Red Robes have also suffered casualties."

"Double digits?" Penny's heart skipped a beat. In the Red Robe Mage Association, there were only a little over a thousand formally robed mages in total. Losing more than a dozen was indeed a significant loss. No wonder Jinhua was so solemn.

"The reason we can confirm this as a unified organization is because we observed something peculiar at the scene of the attacks," Jinhua paused for a moment. "Inside the bodies of those attackers... there were no hearts."

Penny's relaxed expression froze instantly. He recalled that nightmarish evening, the horned shadow amidst the flames. It was perhaps the closest he had ever come to death in his life. Now, hearing Jinhua speak, the dreadful premonitions resurfaced intermittently. "Behind that organization... lies something from the abyss."

"I know. Considering this, you've done me a favor," Jinhua nodded. "This is the first time we've gained some insight into the entity behind this organization, thanks to the information you provided me that day. I reported it to the higher-ups, and they took it seriously. My swift promotion to this position after advancing is also partially thanks to you."

Penny harbored an even worse foreboding.

"I want to assign you a task, to uncover the secrets of this organization. You need to clearly understand what kind of demon it is, why it could establish such a large organization in the Desperate Eastern Territory within just a year, and who is supporting it from behind."

"That's an impossible task, and I'm well aware of my abilities," Penny furrowed his brow.

"Of course, I know. So, I'm not expecting you to complete it all at once. I just hope you can gather some clues," Jinhua raised a finger. "Recently, there has been news of a political upheaval in the north, in Laiseman. It seems there's been a conflict between the Berserker Tribes and the Witch Council, with 'The Heartless' making appearances. This is valuable information. I suggest you pay a visit there, as an apprentice, entering Laiseman will be much easier for you than for us formally robed mages."

Jinhua spoke, his hand caressing the bare tattoo on his bald forehead.

"Laiseman?" Penny pondered for a moment. His first thought was surprisingly a sense of relief that he had mastered "Endurance against Elemental Damage" over the past six months. At least he wouldn't need to prepare heavy winter clothing or risk freezing to death in that place. Considering the nature of this scouting mission, it didn't seem too difficult as long as he was cautious. He nodded, "Is there anything else I should be aware of?"

"I'll personally provide you with eight hundred belens as mission funds," Jinhua retrieved a hefty bag from under the desk.

"So, this mission is also personal?" Penny accepted the bag, a thought suddenly crossing his mind, prompting him to ask.

Jinhua nodded but remained silent. Penny didn't press further and turned to leave.

"Oh, forgot to mention, congratulations on entering the second layer of the magical web," Jinhua's voice followed him.

"Even within the Red Robes, there are 'congratulations'?" Penny halted his steps.

"It's a 'blessing' from a mentor," Jinhua leaned back in his chair, slowly closing his eyes. "Stay safe."

The footsteps gradually faded away.