Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 149 - 142 Before the Exam

The White Bone Forest had become much livelier compared to before, and this wasn’t just in reference to the crowd in front of Lyle but also to the restless magic power surging through the land. The once deathly quiet White Bone Forest seemed as if someone injected it with rabies beneath its soil; the magic power leaped out like fleas disturbed from the ground. The dense magic power in the air was as uncomfortable as a stinging stench to Lyle, who had lived for a long time in the cold, shadowy Cassandra. He, of course, knew that such dense magic power was beneficial to Spellcasters, but also knew that on such land, a snap of a Spirit Summoner’s fingers could cause a horrifying uprising of corpses.

It more closely resembled a gathering than the site of a Spirit Summoner’s exam. Just outside the white circle that demarcated the examination area, throngs and throngs of Andreyans were huddled together, whispering among themselves as if they had returned to the scene of a club’s recruitment fair that Lyle had witnessed upon his arrival. Small shops had sprung up along both sides, where masked merchants who did not wish to reveal their identities were fiddling with trinkets on their counters.

Lyle moved closer to take a look.

He thought about wish-fulfilling cursed dolls, lucky dice with sixes on all sides, a magic wand enchanted with an instant death curse; most were items infused with subtle magic power and shockingly high prices. After spending a long time beside Mr. Scholar, the mobile source of magic power, Lyle’s sensitivity to magic power had increased significantly. He could confirm that those minute traces of magic power merely possessed some pretty visual effects, barely offering psychological comfort.

They were all scam products, which was precisely why these black marketeers layered disguises over their own disguises. Lyle had barely diverted Nia’s attention away from a squirming Lucky Starfish of filth, not just because of the label marked with a hundred Oliou, but for the sake of the little creature itself. It would be truly regrettable for it to die prematurely by Nia’s hands or end up entombed in her mouth.

Among these swindlers, there were always some exceptions. Lyle covered his eyes with his hand, partly to block the bright light and partly out of embarrassment. Madame Aryan sat openly behind a glowing golden counter; the smooth tabletop alone was enough to be considered a work of art, adorned with variously styled carved crucifixes.

"How did you come up with such a brilliant idea, selling crosses at a necromancer’s exam? The business at the Holy Light’s shop must be scarce," Lyle thought of saying as he prepared to silently turn away when he realized that Nia had disappeared—her mischievous tentacles were no longer visible in his line of sight. Lyle began to search for his naughty child.

He found her.

Black tentacles had crawled onto the golden table, and amidst Nia’s "Wa wa wa wa wa wa!" cries, the tentacles began to swing those glittering crucifixes in the air. Nia had unintentionally discovered that magic power could make those shiny objects emit a strong light, and she seemed to be in a much better mood, like a disco ball that had gone out of control, with holy light radiating all around.

The masked unfortunates hit by the holy light often screamed in pain, clutching the part of themselves that had been exposed, or ran off in all directions, trying to endure the pain; chaos ensued.

The crucifixes were powerful and genuine items. Lyle rushed over, snatching these medieval energy weapons from Nia’s tentacles, hoping that the victims’ injuries were severe enough that they wouldn’t have the energy to come back and demand compensation for damaged property.

"Good evening, Madame Aryan."

"Good night, Plague Doctor." Throughout the recent chaos, Aryan had been sitting on the side, watching Nia wreak havoc on others and even clapping her hands, "Would you like a blessed cross? May the Holy Light protect you." Aryan casually picked up a small cross.

"What use would that be?" Lyle asked, sufficiently curious about these genuine items, this one appeared to have been unused just now.

"It will advance your exam score by one rank with a single use," Aryan replied.

"Really that effective?" The power of the Holy Light seemed quite reliable.

"Of course, just aim this little fella at any of the students whose scores might surpass yours..."

"And they would fall behind me due to a mistake in their scores?"

"They would forever lose the chance to turn in their exam."

"..."

Lyle lost interest in that small cross. He looked at a flat rectangular cross at the bottom left corner, which was about the size of two palms – quite lightweight in his hands, as he inspected it out of curiosity.

"What’s this for? It looks like a specially made bookmark," he remarked.

"It’s much more useful than a bookmark, with it, you could immediately become the top student in Spirit Summoning Studies," Aryan explained.

Lyle looked at Aryan with a skeptical eye, "Don’t tell me it’s another ability to annihilate students..."

"Not at all..."

Before Lyle could breathe a sigh of relief, Aryan continued.

"After you use it, a gigantic fist of holy light will appear above the exam venue. It won’t only kill all the students, but it will also take your invigilator away with them."

"..., Miss Aryan, I believe external things are superficial, and exams should rely on one’s own abilities."

"Although I’m glad you think this way, these crosses were all personally made by Mr. Raymond, and he is very eager to see them be put to use."

"No need to say more, I choose to rely on myself, goodbye, Miss Aryan."

Lyle fled from the Holy Light Extermination Weapon Shop.

Close to the entrance of the exam venue, Lyle saw a high platform.

A gentleman in a grey suit, a reporter draped in a royal tablecloth, and Mr. Fancy with his body still styled in the Greek mechanical fashion were all on the platform. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

It was a huge betting wheel, set up by the members of the literary society.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Andrey, the annual Spirit Summoning Studies exam is upon us once again, which means a slew of novices are about to graduate from their juvenile period. Without further ado, please place your bets on the Andrey students you think will shine, and give these fledglings some material encouragement. We will take ten percent of your bets to give to our novices, and the gamblers who guess the top three winners will receive prize money corresponding to the odds."

Many people stuffed Gold Coins into the pouches designated for each student’s name, which were openly displayed on the stand, and magic was used to write the candidates’ information on slips to be exchanged with the bettors, much like the numbers on a racehorse ticket.

"Plague Doctor?"

The gentleman, while collecting the Gold Coins, noticed Lyle in front of him.

"Are you also taking part in the betting, sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Gentleman, an Oliou on myself to win."

The gentleman nodded in approval, "That’s how it should be, Plague Doctor. That is the spirit an honor student should have."

"I’ve bet a hundred thousand on you, even though I’ve already discreetly confirmed your regular grades with Mr. Dragon, but actually, even if I hadn’t checked, I was sure you would do exceedingly well. Go for it, Plague Doctor."

"I also bet a hundred thousand, Mr. Plague Doctor. Please do your best for the sake of my next pearl white whalebone skirt," the reporter chimed in, and Lyle took it as a form of encouragement, albeit with difficulty.

"Please do your best, Mr. Plague Doctor," Mr. Fancy answered blandly while making magic slips, and Nia poked the slip on his desk that labeled Plague Doctor with a hundred thousand—a united front from the literary club indeed.

With those blessings and an intense determination to secure at least thirty thousand Gold Coins, Lyle entered the White Bone Forest.