Chapter 253 - The Truth
It was exceptionally sunny in Alanna on this day.
Lin Li woke up early in the morning. He took the little Dragonhawk out for breakfast as usual and spent some time at Buck’s store on his way back. He chatted with Buck, who was going to leave Alanna soon. It was not until the streets began bustling that Lin Li made his way back to the Guild of Magic.
It was a special day for the Alanna Guild of Magic. The mages from the 24 Guilds of Magic would be ending their two-and-a-half months long trial on this day.
In order to bring the finals to a successful end, the entire guild had been hard at work since early morning. Aldwin went to the Aurora Square first thing in the morning. He set up four mageweaths of the mastery level to ensure that there’d be no unnecessary casualties in the finals. Of course, he had the help of Darian, who was second in inscription only to Aldwin in the entire Alanna Guild of Magic. Setting up four mageweaths was a complex and huge undertaking, and Aldwin definitely couldn’t have done it alone.
Even Macklin got up early on this day. He rarely dressed formally, but at present he looked just like a respectable elder, wearing the Robe of the Void and holding the maroon staff in his hand.
Granted—he looked like a respectable elder only when he wasn’t telling anyone off.
Lin Li walked all the way back to the dormitory. Just as he was walking to the stairs, he heard a string of curses.
In fact, if it hadn’t been for that recent pharmaceutical event, perhaps even Hoffman would have thought that Gryffindor would emerge as the victor for the finals.
However, Hoffman saw with his own eyes how the young mage called Felic controlled the Flaming Hands with one hand and a Chilling Touch with the other at the event, and the Void Power Potion was completed like a magic show. Putting aside his consummate pharmaceutics skills, just the magic skills he’d displayed were enough to make any mage’s hair stand on ends.
He had controlled two spells at the same time—and they were one of fire and one of ice, no less. Felic’s strength could never be any worse than Gryffindor’s.
Also, he was a potion master.
The roles a bottle of potion could play in a battle between two mages could not be covered in one word or two.
It was no doubt a huge gamble this time, but Hoffman was never worried that he’d lose. He was too confident in that young mage called Felic.
Of course, Herza would never understand this.
He watched as the young apprentices entered the Aurora Square, trying to discern which of them the Glittergold Trade Union had their eyes on.
Mason looked at the thousands of spectators on the grandstand and was trembling all over. He was waving ostentatiously at them while saying, “Felic, I’m feeling very nervous…”
Macklin walked past them just then, and he sniffed at Mason’s words. “What’s there to be nervous about? You’ll be out in the first round, anyway. If you have the time to be nervous, why not use it to think about how to lose decently…”
“…” Mason tried hard to suppress his displeasure. After Macklin left, Mason muttered through clenched teeth, “I won’t lose. I’ll advance to the second round and drive you up the wall, you old bastard…”
While Mason was muttering away, Aldwin stood up from the VIP area. The old man seemed to have some sort of charisma; the whole place quieted down as soon as he stood up. Aldwin’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was just enough for everyone to hear him. “… The two-months trial will end today. We’ll be witnessing the birth of the strongest trial apprentice soon…”
After Aldwin’s simple opening remarks, it was Herza who announced the rules.
The rules were not complicated. It’d be a one-on-one elimination—the winner of each round would advance to the next, and the loser would pack up and leave. It was straightforward yet cruel. The ruling of victory was also clear at a glance. Being forced out of the battle area, or voluntarily admitting defeat, would be considered a loss; being hit by a spell beyond level-10 would also be considered a defeat.
They decided the table of matches after the announcement of the rules. Lin Li was neither lucky nor unlucky; he drew a level-12 Magic Shooter as his first opponent. On the contrary, Mason was in luck. After taking a look at the table, he realized that he was up against a level-eight mage who had joined the three of them in completing the task in Shadowglen.
Oh, he was a level-nine mage now.
But this wasn’t much of a difference to Mason. Whether it was level-eight or level-nine, the mage wasn’t his opponent. Mason was a level-11 Magic Shooter; if he couldn’t even take down a level-nine mage, he’d be better off selling beancurd skin instead.
“Hahahaha. Let’s see who still dares say I can’t pass the first round!” Mason chuckled smugly, and looked at Macklin with a challenging expression.
“Beware of ending up in the ditch…” Macklin pursed his lips and cursed viciously.
“Knock on wood!”
“Take a seat first. I’m going up.” Lin Li stood up as the two men were still bickering. His match with the level-12 Magic Shooter was the first one up.