Chapter 40
Chapter 40
Robb set down the booklet, his heart racing with excitement.
Advancing from Elementary Apprentice to Intermediate Apprentice within three years? For most people, that was a formidable challenge. But for someone with a class panel and multi-class bonuses, clearing this threshold seemed almost trivial.
He read on, wanting to learn more about the advancement mechanism.
"...The advancement ceremony for Morning Star Mages is called the 'Opening.' Each candidate must complete a trial, a highly dangerous cerebral activation ritual conducted under mentor guidance."
"This ritual requires a specially crafted 'Key' potion as its medium. The formula for this potion is strictly classified, known only to a select few professors within the faction..."
"So that's how it works..." he murmured inwardly.
This explained the fierce competition among High Apprentices, every qualified candidate had to fight over extremely limited resources and opportunities.
The veiled rivalry between Hadrian and Oliver now made far more sense. Both were approaching the High Apprentice threshold, both hungry for those scarce advancement slots.
The booklet also detailed the privilege differences between apprentice ranks, making Robb's head spin.
Elementary Apprentice could only use public laboratories, with strictly limited monthly hours.
Intermediate Apprentices could apply for dedicated research spaces.
High Apprentices could even secure access to independent experiment towers.
The resource gap was even more staggering, a High Apprentice's monthly base Mana Crystal income was over ten times that of an Elementary Apprentice. Upon entering the Mage Candidate Sequence, that figure multiplied again.
"So class stratification exists everywhere..." Robb laughed self-deprecatingly. "But at least now there's a clear path upward."
Turning to the next section, "Apprentice Duties and Privileges", his expression grew more focused.
As an Elementary Apprentice, he was required to complete a fixed potion-crafting quota each month for the faction.
The specific quantities and types would be adjusted based on individual skills and specializations.
He would also need to periodically participate in public area maintenance or take on field duty assignments.
In exchange, the faction provided basic living necessities, housing, food, access to public facilities, and a small monthly allocation of Mana Crystal Fragments.
The booklet specifically noted that apprentices could earn additional fragments and credits by completing extra tasks or providing rare materials, which could be used to purchase the faction's paid courses.
"Paid courses?" Robb's eyebrow rose.
He quickly flipped to the relevant page and found an extensive catalogue, from basic Spirit Power Control Techniques to advanced Energy Conversion Principles, covering virtually every aspect of mage cultivation.
The courses were tiered by difficulty, priced from a few Mana Crystal Fragments to several Mana Crystals.
But what truly captured Robb's interest was the section at the back about Mentor Guidance.
Within the faction system, apprentices with mentors receive numerous conveniences and privileges. Beyond monthly one-on-one instruction, they gain priority access to their mentor's research findings and may even participate in spell refinement experiments. However, Morning Star Mages are extremely selective when choosing students. They typically require apprentices to demonstrate extraordinary talent or provide rare research materials. Aspiring apprentices should strive to increase their own value in order to attract the attention of potential mentors...
Robb closed the booklet and drew a deep breath.
"Advance to Intermediate Apprentice within three years. Enter the Mage Candidate Sequence." He repeated the goal softly.
With his cheat's multi-class bonuses, this target should be easily achievable.
But the real competition lay beyond. How could he distinguish himself among so many geniuses and secure that precious chance to become a Morning Star Mage?
Robb walked to the window and gazed out at the Black Mist Order.
Night had deepened, but the eerie halos circling above the canopy remained clearly visible, like countless watching eyes.
...
Deep within the Black Mist Order, in a chamber atop a tall tower, Oliver stood at the window, holding a freshly delivered intelligence report.
"Robb Stark, successfully certified as an Elementary Apprentice..."
He calculated constantly, pale, slender fingers tapping lightly against the window frame. "Several months ahead of even my projections."
The tower room was lavishly decorated, yet permeated with an extreme sense of the grotesque.
Human skins hung on the walls, each expertly preserved, frozen in their owners' final expressions, some terrified, some agonized, but most wearing a look of hollow, uncomprehending emptiness.
On a table at the room's center, a crudely stitched corpse lay flat, its body bristling with complex tubes and runic needles.
The corpse was humanoid in shape, but closer inspection revealed that certain parts clearly came from different individuals, the left arm was noticeably longer than the right, the head-to-torso proportions were off, and coarse suture lines were clearly visible at the neck.
Beside this corpse, a recently delivered experimental subject had been added, the fully mutated remains of Dagon.
His exposed, oversized brain tissue had been carefully excised and was now soaking in a specially formulated preservative solution.
Oliver set the report on a side table and walked to Dagon's corpse. He gently stroked the massive brain tissue, his eyes flickering with poorly concealed frustration and anger.
"Look at this, Amanda." He spoke softly to the other corpse beside him. "This should have been a flawless mutated brain structure. But that Robb destroyed it prematurely."
The corpse called Amanda could offer no response, naturally. But Oliver didn't seem to mind.
"Everything was proceeding according to plan." He spoke to himself. "The Spirit Catalyst dosage was precisely calibrated. I made sure Dagon would find the correct formula to attempt. By all rights, he should have maintained consciousness and sustained rationality for much longer."
Oliver rapped the desk in irritation. "If that damned Robb hadn't intervened early, Dagon would have, after the brief period of rational maintenance ended, fully transformed into a complete mutant far beyond his current form. A terrifying being capable of matching a High Apprentice."
He moved to the window, a cold calculation in his eyes.
"Such a perfect plan. Those idiotic Initiates would have been paralyzed with terror, cowering in their rooms. When Hadrian came rushing in to investigate, he'd have been caught off guard by a fully formed mutant. Even someone of his caliber wouldn't have escaped unscathed."
Oliver's fingers traced the window frame. "If Hadrian had been seriously wounded by Dagon, or contaminated by the sonic attacks, his position in the Mage Candidate Sequence would inevitably have fallen behind mine. But now..."
As he spoke, he picked up a syringe filled with dark red liquid and carefully injected it into Amanda's veins.
"Fortunately, though the plan was disrupted, it wasn't a total loss." Oliver consoled himself. "At least Dagon's brain tissue is in my hands now."
The corpse suddenly convulsed violently. Its eyes snapped open, mouth gaping in a soundless scream. Those eyes were filled with inhuman terror and agony, as though enduring some unspeakable torment.
"Patience, Amanda." The gray-robed youth's voice remained gentle.
"Fusion takes time. You're currently absorbing a portion of Dagon's cognitive architecture. If this succeeds, you'll become my thirteenth masterpiece."
He returned to the window and picked up the intelligence report once more, greed gleaming in his eyes. "Robb Stark. From a sixth-magnitude nobody to a stable, qualified Elementary Apprentice..."
Oliver reached up and lightly touched his own cheek, where an almost imperceptible suture line ran.
He walked to the other side of the room and opened an ornate cabinet.
Inside, neatly arranged in a row, sat several glass jars. Each contained a complete brain submerged in solution, their surfaces covered in strange runes.
"That fellow is definitely no ordinary person. Killing a mutating aberrant with nothing but a wooden sword."
Oliver's eyes flashed with fervor. "If he's truly awakened some kind of special talent, then... he may be the final piece of the puzzle in my advancement to Morning Star Mage."
A blood-curdling smile spread across his face.
"Patience. I need patience. Prey is always easiest to catch when it's at its most relaxed."
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