After a round of selection...
Under Charles's envious gaze, Saya—whose talents outshone his in every aspect—was chosen by a ntor. Judging by the circumstances, it was likely that Saya would be given special attention.
Although, to be fair, his expression wasn't exactly pleasant when his new ntor's magical pet stared at him with a hungry look.
He clearly saw that the giant bat was drooling at the sight of him.
Still, despite his wavering mindset, Saya forced a bright smile and waved at Charles with an air of triumph.
Inside, however, he was praying silently: 'Please let really be going as a student… not as food…'
Watching from the sidelines, Charles—who had been largely ignored by the ntors—was filled with admiration. "He's smiling so happily… He must've been picked by a really good ntor."
---
The house, though made of wood, was built upon a massive, unidentifiable plant. It looked entirely natural, as if the structure had simply grown from the tree itself, bearing barely any traces of human craftsmanship.
Clutching his token of admission, Charles swallowed nervously as he looked at the massive wooden ho in front of him.
He knew that, unless sothing unexpected happened, the person living inside would be his new ntor. Naturally, he was a little tense.
He had no idea whether his ntor would like him or not, and honestly, he didn't have much confidence.
After summoning up his courage, he pressed the doorbell.
He didn't have to wait long— a vine slithered down from the rooftop, twisting and writhing around him like a snake.
The sensation made Charles's scalp tingle with unease, as if the thing might bite him at any mont.
After circling him, a raspy, elderly voice echoed from within the vine: "The new apprentice?"
Startled that the vine could actually speak, Charles quickly responded, "Yes, I'm Charles. I just arrived at the academy today."
The vine swayed up and down a few tis in response, prompting Charles to wonder, 'Is that its way of nodding?'
He could vaguely hear so mumbled muttering from within: "Weren't we supposed to get one apprentice per year? What month is it again…? Has it already been that long? Guess that blast to the head really did a number on … No wonder ti's been feeling so fast lately…"
A sense of dread welled up inside Charles. 'This ntor… doesn't seem quite right…'
After so rambling self-talk, the voice finally addressed him again: "You look skinny and unhealthy… Must be poor nutrition at ho. Reminds of my younger days. Ah, the first ti I visited a brothel…"
'???'
Listening to his ntor's incoherent and increasingly bizarre ramblings, Charles could now confirm without a shadow of a doubt—this ntor was definitely not normal.
Suddenly, he found himself deeply doubting whether he would survive his apprenticeship.
'Does the academy really expect that guy to teach anyone…?'
In a daze, Charles could already envision himself as an elderly man, still dressed in an apprentice's robe, muttering, "Maybe I'll just be an apprentice for life…"
---
And Charles wasn't the only one facing such doubts.
At that very mont, Saya stood silently before his new ntor—an older man dressed half in won's clothing and half in n's, completely ignoring him while applying lipstick. Saya too began to worry about his future.
"This guy doesn't seem normal at all… Can I even graduate under him…?"
---
In a certain laboratory, a boy no older than five or six stood nervously as an old man approached with a syringe in hand. The elder had just a few strands of brittle yellow hair left and a maniacal gleam in his eyes.
Trying to resolve the situation through charm, the boy swallowed hard and stamred, "ntor, I don't think there's any rush for the experint. We can always do it later…"
The old man gave a twisted, ghastly smile and rasped, "Kekeke… Don't be afraid. Sacrificing for experintation is sothing every great sorcerer must go through. I'm just helping you get there a little sooner…"
Sniffling slightly and forcing a weak smile, the boy said, "I think I'm still young… There's no need to rush, really…"
"Hmph!"
With a flick of his wrist, the old man lifted the boy effortlessly and declared coldly, "You don't have a say in this!"
Then, without hesitation, he plunged the murky gray-black liquid into the boy's arm—right before the child's despairing eyes.
And that was just day one.
Faced with the brutal slap of reality, most apprentice wizards began to question their future…
---
Three Years Later
It was the 20th year since Orsaga had arrived in this world.
Inside the Academy of the Silent Heart, Orsaga sat comfortably in a soft chair, legs crossed. He wore a red suit resembling a western-style outfit and looked entirely at ease.
Opposite him sat a young male wizard in his thirties.
"I really like the animation spell you invented," Orsaga said with a relaxed smile. "So I'd like to purchase the knowledge behind it."
The young wizards's brow furrowed slightly. Orsaga's casual attitude rubbed him the wrong way. As a renowned genius wizards himself, he felt he wasn't being shown proper respect.
Still, considering that he was only at peak Tier 1 in power, he decided to let it slide… for now.
That said, selling his spell was no trivial matter. He lifted his chin and replied haughtily, "That spell is still in its early stages of developnt, so I don't intend to sell it just yet. If you truly need it, I'd ask you to wait until I've fully refined the technique."
Orsaga remained unbothered by the rejection and replied calmly, "No worries. I don't need a perfected version—just the general idea behind it will do."
The wizard frowned even more deeply at Orsaga's persistent attitude. After a mont of hesitation, he said frankly, "Let be direct. I'm not selling it right now. Please leave."
Finally giving the man his full attention, Orsaga studied his proud expression. Then he chuckled softly and said, "It seems you don't quite understand your position."
Before the wizard could comprehend the warning, Orsaga raised a hand and lightly flicked his wrist.
"Smack!"
A crisp, thunderous slap echoed through the room.
The wizards's body was sent flying by an irresistible force, spinning ten tis in midair before crashing to the ground.
Remarkably, his feet landed back in the exact sa place, the soles perfectly aligned with his original footprint.
Dazed, bloodied, and dizzy, he crumpled to his knees.
Seated high above, Orsaga looked down with tranquil eyes and said, "I'll give you one more chance to rephrase your response."
Swallowing a mouthful of blood, the young wizard looked into Orsaga's eyes and felt the chill of death. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he forced a flattering smile onto his swollen face.
"I misspoke earlier. I never intended to sell the spell—how could I ever dare charge you for it? Of course, it's yours as a humble gift, a token of my deepest respect."
Orsaga nodded in satisfaction. "Very good."
_____
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