Mist Empire’s Rise: Fake Noble to Fog Queen

Chapter 360 Mist Empire’s Rise- 358: Thanks to Milk Beer Auntie's Divine Certification

Mist Empire's Rise-Chapter 358: Thanks to Milk Beer Auntie's Divine Certification

Last time she'd sent tea to Headmaster Morrison was over half a month ago. Siria was at a high latitude—back then the gardenias were still buds.

Technically, gardenias originated in China. The Western Continent's geography shouldn't produce such flowers, yet they appeared everywhere in Western nobility's courtyards.

However, she couldn't find osmanthus and tea trees—also from China—or jasmine from India no matter how hard she looked. Her plans for making milk tea had died in the womb.

Luo Wei picked up her gardenia tea. From the corner of her eye, she saw Headmaster Morrison take a small sip. "What does the headmaster think of the flavor?"

"Not bad," Headmaster Morrison evaluated. "The tea is sweet and fragrant. Did you add honey?"

Luo Wei nodded. "A spoonful of honey improves the flavor. I have plenty of gardenia tea. If you like it, Headmaster, why not take a box when you leave?"

Headmaster Morrison couldn't say he loved flower tea, but someone at home liked it, so he agreed. "Alright, thank you."

Wordsworth quietly listened to their conversation, never speaking from beginning to end. Of course, undead couldn't speak anyway.

But his eyes kept glancing at Luo Wei, shining with bright light.

Only this junior student in the academy could hear his voice. Wordsworth really wanted to talk with her, but feared his actions would distract her and the headmaster would notice something.

Being able to hear undead voices was his junior's secret. He wouldn't tell anyone.

Wordsworth took out a charcoal pencil and papyrus notebook from his bag, writing down what he wanted to say. This was how he communicated with others. Later he could pretend to write and chat with his junior.

Luo Wei had drunk half her tea when Patrick was finally coaxed to the main hall by Troy after repeated requests.

Hearing footsteps, Headmaster Morrison looked over curiously, but only saw a man covered head to toe in black cloth, even his eyes hidden.

He judged him male because of his tall stature—broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs—and the bearing in his walk that revealed nobility and gentlemanly elegance ingrained in his bones.

This person is a noble, Headmaster Morrison thought.

Patrick walked to a spot not far from Luo Wei and bowed with a hand on his chest. Good day, Master. What are your orders?

"Snap—"

The charcoal pencil in Wordsworth's hand slipped and fell to the floor, breaking in two.

Hearing the sound, everyone turned toward Wordsworth. Headmaster Morrison asked with concern, "What's wrong, child?"

Wordsworth's mouth hung open for several seconds before he quickly crouched to pick up the pencil. He waved at Headmaster Morrison and wrote on the paper that he'd just accidentally dropped it.

Luo Wei, holding her teacup, breathed a sigh of relief. How had she forgotten—Wordsworth was also undead and could understand Patrick's words.

Though she didn't know why he chose to hide this from Headmaster Morrison, it was good news for her.

Luo Wei looked at Patrick and communicated mentally: Play along. You're a timber merchant now. Just nod at whatever I say.

Patrick's movements paused. He slowly raised his head.

Luo Wei stood up, apologetically returning the bow. "Sorry, Mr. Sandek, for disturbing your afternoon rest. I have a favor to ask. Do you have time?"

Patrick nodded silently.

Luo Wei asked him to sit first, then introduced him to Headmaster Morrison. "Headmaster, this is my friend, a timber merchant from the Northlands—Mr. Sandek."

Headmaster Morrison looked at Patrick, his mind churning. With his abilities, he couldn't even discern this timber merchant's level. Who was this person?

"Mr. Sandek, this is the headmaster of Siria Magic Academy, Headmaster Morrison."

After Luo Wei's introduction, Patrick looked at Headmaster Morrison and nodded slightly.

Headmaster Morrison's expression showed shock and doubt. He thought he'd seen two flashes of blue light beneath the black cloth covering the other's eyes?

"Headmaster, as you've probably noticed," Luo Wei said gently, "my friend is an undead mage, so you can't hear what he says. However, my senior and Mr. Sandek should have common ground."

Headmaster Morrison's expression cleared. He rarely lost his composure like this, but the other's identity truly exceeded his expectations.

He'd even considered the possibility of the person being from the Church, but never imagined he'd be an undead mage.

And this undead mage's level wasn't low. If even he couldn't see through him, the other must have at least high-level archmage strength.

The Siria Church was less than five miles away, yet Luo Wei dared let a high-level undead archmage stay in her home. Morrison gained new appreciation for her boldness.

While Headmaster Morrison fell into thought, Wordsworth was desperately trying to minimize his presence. He didn't want any common ground with Patrick at all!

The moment Patrick entered, Wordsworth knew he was undead—and a terrifying undead whose soul was a thousand, ten thousand times stronger than his own.

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Undead fought among themselves too. They devoured others' souls to grow stronger. Low-level undead were on high-level undead's menu.

Though Wordsworth was undead, he'd only dealt with humans all these years. He'd never seen another undead before.

Today he'd finally met one of his kind, only to risk being eaten as food. If he could cry, Wordsworth would be in tears.

He looked pitifully at Luo Wei. He'd heard everything—this undead mage called his junior "Master." She wouldn't let him eat him, right?

She wouldn't, right?

Luo Wei had no idea Wordsworth was thinking all this. She was discussing with Patrick—ordering him, really—to take Wordsworth back to Demon Island.

Outwardly asking, inwardly commanding, Luo Wei used a requesting tone: "Mr. Sandek, Senior Wordsworth wants to visit Demon Island. Since you're heading that way anyway, could you take him along?"

Patrick nodded once.

"That's wonderful. You're taking the teleportation array, right?"

Patrick continued nodding.

Luo Wei was satisfied. She told Headmaster Morrison, "Headmaster, taking the teleportation array is much safer than traveling overland. You can rest assured about my senior's safety."

With a high-level undead archmage as escort, how could Headmaster Morrison not feel assured?

Having the other take Wordsworth along was more convenient and worry-free than delivering him himself.

Headmaster Morrison immediately agreed. "Then I'll trouble Mr. Sandek. I owe you a favor. If you need anything in the future, I'll do my best to help."

Patrick said nothing, only nodded.

Luo Wei: "Mr. Sandek still has business in Siria. He probably won't leave until sunset. Headmaster, Senior, shall I show you around the garden?"

Headmaster Morrison shook his head. "Since you still have matters to attend to, I won't disturb you. Wordsworth, stay here. Leave with him after he finishes his business."

He stood up as he spoke. The others rose to see him off.

At the door, Headmaster Morrison patted Wordsworth's shoulder. "When you get to Demon Island, live well."

Wordsworth nodded hard, his shoulders trembling as if silently sobbing.

Luo Wei comforted them both: "Mr. Sandek will come to Siria in the future. If you want to see my senior, Headmaster, or if Senior wants to return, just say so in advance. He'll bring him over."

He'd rather he didn't come back. Headmaster Morrison sighed, about to say something when he turned and saw two strange people approaching from the other side of the garden.

One had dark, gleaming skin with white hair like frost and snow. The other had a beard red as fire and sharp pine-green eyes like an eagle's.

But what truly caught his attention wasn't their appearance—it was the powerful aura they radiated. They seemed unfathomably deep.

The red-haired man had a fierce presence, like an arrow nocked on a drawn bow or an unsheathed blade. Though thin, he gave no sense of weakness. His savage spirit made one dare not look directly at him.

The white-haired, dark-skinned youth had a much more reserved temperament, but Morrison wouldn't assume he was weaker than the red-haired man. The stronger one's magic, the younger one appeared. This person's abilities clearly surpassed the red-haired man's.

If he wasn't mistaken, both had reached high-level archmage level.

High-level archmages in the Western Continent could be counted on one hand. Every high-level archmage's name was recorded in the Spire Council. He knew all of them.

But these two—where had they come from?

Headmaster Morrison's brows furrowed tightly. Not counting himself, little Siria City had gathered three high-level archmages.

And all of this—Headmaster Morrison looked at Luo Wei—was because of her. This fifteen-year-old child before him. His student.

"Headmaster?" Luo Wei noticed his complicated gaze and called out strangely.

Headmaster Morrison relaxed his furrowed brow, his gaze falling on the other end of the garden. "Child, who are those two? I don't recognize them."

Luo Wei followed his gaze. The dark elf and Zachary emerged from the direction of the back courtyard wheat field, chatting as they walked, the atmosphere harmonious.

When she looked over, the dark elf seemed to sense it and looked up too.

Across a distance of over seventy meters, the dark elf stopped, lowered his head, and bowed to her reverently with a hand on his chest.

Zachary also looked over. Seeing Luo Wei, he smiled, then noticed Headmaster Morrison beside her. His gaze steadied, his smile faded slightly, and he turned back to talk with the dark elf.

Luo Wei withdrew her gaze and answered Headmaster Morrison's earlier question. "The red-haired gentleman is my friend. He's also a merchant. The white-haired one is my subordinate. His name is Loren."

Headmaster Morrison fell silent for a long while after hearing the latter sentence.

Though Siria Magic Academy was his life's work and in his heart the best academy in the world, encountering this situation left him somewhat baffled.

Her subordinate was more capable than him, the headmaster. What need did she have to attend this shabby school?

Was attending absolutely necessary?

Couldn't her family teach her?

Or did her subordinates not dare instruct her?

Headmaster Morrison's feelings were complicated. Siria Magic Academy had enrolled many princes and princesses, but a princess whose subordinates were magic swordsmen or archmages, and whose merchant friends were high-level archmages—Luo Wei was the first.

How was he supposed to teach now? If he taught poorly, would she bring her subordinates to level the academy?

Headmaster Morrison felt deceived. With such a powerful background, why not mention it earlier? He'd been racking his brains, losing sleep, worried about protecting her.

Also, if her own subordinate was an archmage, couldn't she just ask about any magic she wanted to know? Why steal magic books?

Was stealing fun?

No wonder those troublemakers in the academy followed her lead. She was the biggest troublemaker!

For some reason, Luo Wei felt thick resentment emanating from Headmaster Morrison, as if someone owed him ten thousand gold coins.

She couldn't figure it out. From when they met at the academy gate until now, no one should have offended him, right?

After seeing off Headmaster Morrison, Luo Wei's pressure lightened considerably.

Though there'd been some surprises initially, both process and result were fairly perfect. Wordsworth, this high-level technical talent, had finally fallen into her hands.

She turned her head. Wordsworth stood at her side, shrinking timidly like a mushroom.

Luo Wei saw his unease and said gently, "Senior, the people and undead on Demon Island are all kind. You don't need to be afraid."

"When you get there, Mr. Sandek will arrange your lodging. Just treat it as your home. If you encounter any difficulties, find Mr. Sandek. He'll help you solve them."

Wordsworth: ...

He whimpered, even more frightened now.

Mr. Sandek was his biggest difficulty. But how could he tell his junior?

Besides, Mr. Sandek was standing right behind him. He didn't dare move. Really didn't dare.

Luo Wei thought Wordsworth was reluctant to part with the headmaster and too sad to speak. Not receiving a response, she didn't press.

She turned to instruct Patrick: "I still need to discuss some matters with Mr. Bunian. Take Senior for a walk around the garden and tell him about Demon Island so he can familiarize himself in advance."

Patrick lowered his head. Yes, Master.

Wordsworth's eyes widened in terror. The transformation spell on him hadn't expired yet—he still looked like a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth, his thoughts fully displayed on his face.

Luo Wei caught his expression and asked puzzled, "Senior, what's wrong? Don't want to tour the garden?"

Wordsworth stammered: Junior, can I, can I go back, back...

"Of course you can," Luo Wei said. "It is rather hot outside. It's cooler indoors. Patrick, take Senior back to the parlor to rest."

She'd thought Wordsworth liked sunlight, which was why she had Patrick take him outside. She hadn't expected undead to fear sun exposure too.

Well, today's weather really wasn't suitable for walks anyway.

The sun was scorching her scalp. In this heat, the tar on Wordsworth's corpse might melt. She hadn't thought it through.

Luo Wei watched them head toward the main hall.

Wordsworth looked back every three steps. Each time he gathered courage to speak, catching sight of Patrick's robe hem in his peripheral vision scared him into shutting his mouth. He walked the whole way in misery.

The sunlight was blinding. Luo Wei found a shady spot to stand. Remembering something, she asked Troy, "Yesterday when you saw Tim, what did he say?"

Troy: "He said he wants to see you. To apologize."

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