Another World’s Versatile Crafting Master c1-1074, page 141
How could Lin Li not avenge such a comrade, such a brother?
"Felic, listen to me…"
"Why should I listen to you, Mr. Macklin? Gryffindor had injured my teammate. My teammate who had protected me from Archmage Aeron. Can you give me a reason not to take revenge for him?"
"It's simple. Because that bastard Gryffindor is lucky. He has a mentor from the Supreme Council. So please do not get into a conflict with him…" Macklin sighed. "Do you know who is Gryffindor's mentor?"
"Do I look like I care…?"
"Gryffindor's mentor is called Rosen. He's like your mentor Andoine, who had reached the Legendary realm, and is one of the leaders in the Supreme Council."
"So what?"
"Nothing. But, I have to tell you something. The relationship between Rosen and Andoine has not been very good these 10 years. Because they are the leaders of the Supreme Council, they have the chance to become the next Arbiter of the council.
"If you were to beat Gryffindor up, the issue will spread and it will absolutely affect the competition between them. The Supreme Council is not like Alanna Guild of Magic. They have terribly stringent rules and your actions might affect Andoine directly…
"Imagine: if Andoine were to lose to Rosen, would Rosen forgive you and Andoine as the new arbiter? Alanna Guild of Magic might even become his target. I'm sure this will not be what you want to see…"
"Really?" Macklin's words stuck Lin Li. His frown loosened. But, when he looked at Macklin, he could not help but feel a little suspicious.
"Damn, do you think I don't wish to beat that bastard up? Let me tell you, my urge to do so is stronger than yours. Do you know why that is so? Orrin's mentor is Ronald, a friend I have known for a few decades. When Orrin first came to Alanna, he had asked me to take care of his only disciple. Or why do you think I would put aside all my commitments just to become the trial mentor of you brats? What were my motives? I just wanted to see for myself how powerful the magic genius that Gerian mentioned was, as well as take care of the student of my old friend…"
"Alright, I must admit that your explanation is reasonable. But, I just can't swallow this anger! You'd better tell Gryffindor to hide well, and don't let me meet him in Alanna!"
"Actually, you do not need to put up with him that long…" Macklin smiled slyly. After looking around furtively, he asked Lin Li in a low voice, "Did you hear about the rules of the finals?"
Lin Li froze and asked, "What rules?"
"Herza personally told me that the finals allowed "accidental" injuries…"
"Really?" Lin Li exclaimed and his eyes brightened immediately. He did not expect that it was allowed in the finals.
Doesn't this mean that I can push the blame away if Gryffindor were to be harmed?
The old man nodded gravely and confirmed his doubts. "Yeah."
"That's great…"
"But I would like to remind you that the finals will take place at the Sky Tower. Aldwin had established multiple mageweaths to greatly lessen the impact of attacking spells. If you plan to injure Gryffindor, you have to use powerful magic…"
"Noted…" Lin Li nodded understandingly. He fixed his gaze on the Omniscient Tower in the distance. It seemed like he had to visit the tower one more time in these two days. He had not copied down that one magic spell that would create a devastating impact…
When the two men finished conversing and returned to the treatment room, the exhausted Hoffman was already leaning against the back of the chair, resting. When he saw Lin Li entering the room, he told him breathlessly, "The Dry Soul Curse is almost cured. I will leave the rest to Archbishop Englos…"
"Thanks, Mr Hoffman."
"It's nothing…" Hoffman replied, and shook his head tiredly. "But let me go and rest now…"
"Will do," Lin Li replied. Lin Li was really glad after hearing that the curse had been broken. If not for the presence of the curse, with the ability of Archbishop Englos, Orrin would have been already saved earlier.
Englos really lived up to his title as one of the four Archbishops of Dawn Cathedral. A simple ray of Holy Light from him was enough to summon an acc.u.mulation of Divine Power into the air. His abilities were on a different level relative to Bishop Raleigh. The wave of Divine Power was like a flowing stream, having tremendous momentum but not threatening, and was forever filled with a peaceful and harmonious vibe…
When the Divine Power generated a warm white light, it was like a water curtain covered Orrin's body. As the magnificent wave of Divine Power entered him, life could be seen from Orrin's ghastly complexion. The wound caused by the Pyroblast turned from blood-red to pinkish. His muscles squirmed continuously and recovered quickly under their eyes.
"Amazing…" Lin Li gasped. This was the first time he saw Englos with his spells. He could not believe that such a simple Holy Light Spell could generate an effect much more powerful than the Recovery Potion. Could the legendary pope revive a dead person using this as well?
He saw how ignorant he was. He'd always thought magic was the most powerful force in the world. It seemed that The World of Anril was so huge that it was worthy to learn from other occupations as well.
"Szz…" When the warm light dispersed, Orrin who had been lying on the sick bed finally frowned and let out a faint sound.
"How are you, pretty boy?" Mason rushed over to Orrin in surprise. Although he was insulting him, his tone could not veil the amount of concern he had for him.
"Moron, sh… shut up…"
"Thank goodness…!" Mason exclaimed in relief. Since that fella could scold people even before he opened his eyes, it meant that everything was well now.
"Thank you, Archbishop Englos," Lin Li said gratefully. Orrin was finally dragged back from the edge of death!
"You're welcome," Englos said smilingly. He stood up and waved goodbye to Lin Li. "Alright, Master Felic, your friend should be fine now. I still have things on with Sendros, thus I will be going back to Dawn Cathedral first."
"Are you leaving already?"
"I have no choice but to rush too… Oh, yes! Master Felic, if you are free, you can visit me at Brilliance Shrine. I hope to ask you some questions with regard to pharmaceutics."
"Alright. I will definitely visit you when I have the time."
Chapter 252 - The Eve Of The Finals
Gryffindor had been in high spirits these two days.
It so happened that he met Orrin in the arena even before the finals. This was something he had not expected. Moreover, that moron was foolish enough to take the initiative to attack the guild's steward despite being a trial apprentice. Even if he was killed, he could only blame himself for his own bad luck.
Unfortunately…
Mason, that fly, got in the way and took Orrin away at the very last minute. The Pyroblast that he had so carefully prepared couldn't be released in time.
So be it—Orrin was lucky this time. Anyway, he wouldn't survive more than a few days. He was directly hit by the Pyroblast, and in addition, Gryffindor had cast a curse at the last moment. Even if he didn't die on the spot, he wouldn't survive until the day of the finals.
Better let me come up against that Jarrosus country boy in the first round. I'll let him know then that there's also a distinction among the Archmages…
Gryffindor returned to his apartment in a cheerful mood. His teammates had moved out, so the room was exceptionally quiet. Now the whole apartment was Gryffindor's. The few chairs in the living room were placed at random. A huge crystal ball that was emitting a soft light was placed on the tea table.
Gryffindor stood before the crystal ball and recited a spell hurriedly. Then there was only a ray of light, and a white-haired figure appeared in the crystal ball.
"Gryffindor, do you have some questions on magic you'd like to ask me, seeing that you've reached out to me at this time?" The old man in the crystal ball looked to be in his sixties. He was gaunt and his face was covered in wrinkles. Other than a pair of keen eyes, he looked no different than an ordinary old man.
"Yes, Mentor Rosen. I've been trying to shorten the duration of my recitations, but I seem to be having some problems…" Gryffindor quickly explained the difficulty.
Rosen was still holding onto a crystal pen in the crystal ball. His eyebrows were furrowed as he drew a line on a blank scroll while explaining a principle to Gryffindor in a comprehensive and meticulous way. "Shortening the duration of the recitation is the simplest way to improve mental strength, but it does not mean much to you. After all, the enhancement of the mental strength can't be done overnight. Another way is to analyze the structure of the elements repeatedly. The more you understand the structure of the elements, the quicker you can finish your spell-casting…"
Gryffindor continued with a few more questions. Rosen took time to answer all of them while still busying himself with the scroll. He seemed absent-minded, but his answers were succinct and precise. His explanations were in one or two sentences, but he always managed to hit the nail on the head. They were issues whose solutions Gryffindor couldn't figure out even after thinking for a long while, but he'd immediately show expressions of sudden enlightenment when guided by Rosen with a mere word.
If Lin Li were present, he could probably make out what Rosen had drawn on the scroll—it was a "tidal" mageweath. This mageweath, which could increase the speed of mana restoration by several times, was not easy to draft. Only Inscribers who attained a mastery level and beyond could understand its complete structure. It was well known to be extremely difficult to draw. Even Aldwin, who was known as the number one Inscriber in Felan, could not guarantee he'd succeed in every try, not to mention Rosen, who was giving pointers to his disciple while drawing the mageweath.
Speaking of Rosen, he was indeed nothing but legendary.
He came from the Fallen Leaves City's Guild of Magic, north of the Breezy Plains. His name first became known 40 years ago. At that time, Rosen had just turned 30, but he had already broken through to the Archmage realm. In a battle between the Fallen Leaves City Guild of Magic and the pirates, he'd killed a level-18 pirate with one strike, and his name spread throughout the Felan Kingdom at once.
In the following 10 years, Rosen's prestige in the guild reached the peak. He had various virtues—powerful strength, meticulous mind, tactful management—that helped him establish an absolute prestige in the Fallen Leaves City Guild of Magic. Almost everyone thought that he'd be a strong candidate for the next president. Even the then-president of the guild had once said in public that once he stepped down, Rosen would be the one to oversee the Fallen Leaves City Guild of Magic.
However, Rosen made a surprising decision at that time.
He gave up his position of the future president of the guild and applied to the Supreme Council in the hope of entering the library to study. With his position in the Fallen Leaves City Guild of Magic at that time, the Supreme Council naturally could not refuse his request. Less than a month after the application was filed, Rosen was admitted into the library. He'd stayed there for three years, and by the time he'd left the library, he already had the strength of the level-18 Archmage.
Later, he'd received an invitation from the Supreme Council and entered into the center of power that all mages of Anril dreamed of. Over the next three decades, Rosen climbed higher and higher up the ladder at an astonishing speed with his own abilities. To this day, he remained one of the ten leaders in charge of tens of thousands of mages, and there was good chance that he could go one step further and become a new arbitrator in the near future.
But there was something odd about him. Rosen's name had been heard in most parts of Anril. However, no one really knew exactly what kind of person Rosen was.
Others would more or less have some sort of d.e.s.i.r.e. Even Andoine, someone who was indifferent to almost everything in the world, had a near-fanatical passion for pharmaceutics. But Rosen seemed like an ascetic. Apart from the most profound knowledge of magic, he would never be interested in anything else.
He did only two things after he was admitted into the Supreme Council. One was to accept Gryffindor as his disciple, and the second was to compete for the seat of the arbitrator. Other than that, he seemed to stay in his research room forever, dealing with all kinds of mageweaths.
"By the way, Gryffindor…" After answering these questions one by one, Rosen smiled again and asked Gryffindor with great interest, "I seem to have heard recently that another young Archmage was born in Alanna Guild of Magic?"
"Yes, Mentor."
"Tell me about it."
"Okay. He's called Felic, probably about 19 to 21 years old. He's from Jarrosus Guild of Magic. To be honest, he shouldn't be considered a real Archmage with his strength. I've met him once two weeks ago. If I were to have a duel with him, I believe he wouldn't be able to last more than 10 minutes."
"Tell me where you got this confidence from…"
"If I'm not mistaken, this person's strength does not belong to him. He had suddenly acquired it by virtue of some luck or other reason—I can clearly feel the magical wave emanating from him isn't at all pure. In other words, he can't manipulate his strength very well. And what's important is that while he could acquire his strength at once, knowledge is different. Even though he has the strength of an Archmage, he doesn't have enough time to learn the knowledge an Archmage should possess. He is far from being a real Archmage. I am confident of defeating such an opponent in 10 minutes."
"Not bad, Gryffindor. You've become more meticulous."
"Thank you."
"But, you seem to forget something…" At this point, Rosen's smile disappeared and was replaced with a somber expression. "What you've said happened two weeks ago. How can you be sure that he still hasn't gotten a grasp of his own strength after two weeks?"
"Impossible, Mentor Rosen. I remember clearly that this fellow was only a level-nine mage at the start of the trial. It's a six levels' ascension from level-nine to level-15. Even the most impressive genius couldn't have been able to adapt to such an incredible speed of improvement. Moreover, if he's really a great genius, how could he still be stuck at level-nine at the age of 20? He should've broken through to the realm of the Magic Shooter with his own efforts, and not make the leap to an Archmage by a strange encounter."
"That sounds like a good analysis. But if you were to go to the finals with this thought, you'd probably be inviting trouble to yourself…" Rosen smiled. He was generous with his patience to his only disciple. "Now, listen to my analysis. Perhaps you'll change your mind after listening to me."
"Yes."
"From what you've said, this fellow has made the leap from level-nine straight to level-15. Yes, it's a far cry. But you seem to have forgotten that the amount of mana a person can hold is limited. The stronger your mental strength, the more powerful your mana will be. The mana of an Archmage is almost 100 times that of a level-nine mage. Do you know what it means? If we were to liken magic to water, then a level-nine mage can only fill a small bottle, while an Archmage can fill a bucket. Think about it—what will happen if you force a bucket of water into a small bottle?"
"The bottle will burst…"
"That's right. Then, can you tell me, did that Archmage called Felic burst?"
"No…" Gryffindor pondered, but was still unconvinced. "It could be because of luck…"
Rosen smiled. "You're still insisting on luck. Gryffindor, I hope you remember that there has never been a really lucky person in the world. There is an inevitable principle behind every seemingly lucky encounter. The difference lies in whether you can grasp it. For the young man you're talking about now, there could only be two reasons. One, he had concealed his strength when you first met him. Second, he has a terribly strong mental strength, and possessed the mental strength of an Archmage at level-nine."
Gryffindor was shocked when he heard what Rosen said. He was about to open his mouth to make a response when he heard Rosen's voice coming from the other end again. "In either case, I'm afraid it's not good news for you. There's nothing to say about concealing his strength. It wasn't a big deal that he managed to hide it from you, but he managed to hide it from Aldwin. Did it not cross your mind how he could conceal it so well? As for the second possibility… It's even more terrifying to think about it. Mental strength is the most important thing to a mage. If one has a unique advantage in mental strength, then he's an out-and-out magic genius. This advantage will give him inestimable edge in a battle between two mages. He'll have a faster spell-casting speed and a faster mana recovery time. He can even ignore the danger of the bite of mana and impose powerful spells that you could never imagine. Such an opponent can't be handled in 10 minutes…"
"Mentor, you mean, I should have a fight with him before the finals, just like how I did with Orrin?"
"No, no, no… I've never said that. Orrin and Felic are two different people. You should never put them together; otherwise, you'll land yourself in hot water…"
"Why?" This time, Gryffindor was really astonished. He could admit that Felic was a genius. It was a fact that he was a 20-year-old Archmage, after all. This was something that he couldn't deny. However, Gryffindor would never believe that he'd land himself in hot water if he laid a hand on Felic.
He was the number one magic genius in Felan, and a disciple of a Legendary-mage. He even held the position of a steward in the Guild of Magic. He was second only to Aldwin and Macklin, and held the same rank as Darian. What was Felic to him? He was merely a country boy. So what if he had the strength of an Archmage? So what if he was Macklin's trial apprentice? Surely Macklin wouldn't go all out with him over a trial apprentice? As for the Jarrosus Guild of Magic, they were too insignificant to be considered. What could that fat Gerian do? Only one word from his mentor would send that fatty straight back to Jarrosus!
"Are you thinking that you could confront him without a care for nobody because he's a mage from Jarrosus, who's got no background or status?"
Gryffindor did not speak, but the indifference on his face revealed all his thoughts.
