The Wizard's Biological Chip Can Process Everything-Chapter 33: Bloodbath, a smile comes at a high price....

The figure, a minotaur holding a powerful bow, had an imposing presence that made everyone hesitate.

Suddenly, the sound of stone shifting broke the silence.

"Crack~~"

The blocks began to twist and rearrange themselves, and to our surprise, the Minotaur seemed to come to life.

Stone gave way to flesh and blood, and the creature looked at Marcelina with a mocking smile.

—Hi, Marcelina! Hot...Pussy"

The absurd declaration made the tension in the air nearly snap completely.

I could see the lips of some acolytes trembling, clearly trying to suppress their laughter.

—Marcelina, the hottest mage in this tower! the Minotaur continued in an exaggeratedly provocative tone.

I held myself back, struggling to maintain composure, but it was almost impossible.

The other acolytes were under the same strain, their shoulders shaking.

Marcelina, however, remained still, though I could see the vein on her forehead pulsing.

Her face was darker than ever, and her expression was that of someone about to explode.

—I should find whoever installed this statue and make them pay for these words! she muttered through clenched teeth.

But the Minotaur did not stop.

—Marcelina, my dear pig!

Those words were the final straw.

A boy in the middle of the group couldn’t hold it in.

—Hahaha! he laughed loudly, doubling over while clutching his stomach to keep from laughing too hard.

His laughter set off the others, who almost lost control as well.

However, Marcelina turned to the boy and stared at him intensely.

She didn’t say a word, but her gaze was cold and cruel, filled with a silent threat.

The boy’s laughter died instantly, and he swallowed hard, realizing the mistake he had made.

His eyes widened, and he brought his hands to his nose, where blood began to run.

Before anyone could react, he exploded.

"BOOM!"

The sound was muffled, but the impact was visceral.

The boy literally dissolved into a blur of blood, chunks of flesh, and bones scattered across the ground and over the group.

I felt something warm and metallic hit my face. It was blood.

The bitter, rusty taste filled my mouth before I could avoid it.

My stomach churned, but I forced myself to stay standing, swallowing the panic.

After all, I had already seen a worse massacre when I previously fought the giant spiders.

The other acolytes were frozen, many with their faces smeared red, trying to process what had just happened.

Marcelina seemed completely unbothered.

Her cold gaze swept over the group, and she straightened her posture as if nothing had happened.

—Fools, those who provoke a mage, she said calmly, her voice sharp.

—Follow me. And remember, laughter is a luxury you are not permitted while you are mere acolytes.

The echo of Marcelina’s words still reverberated in my mind.

Mages are equal among themselves, so they can afford to joke with one another.

However, acolytes must always maintain their humility!

Suddenly, an uncomfortable truth struck me like lightning.

In the world of mages, strength was not just a privilege, but the very language of coexistence.

Only those with equal power could treat one another as equals.

Marcelina approached the minotaur, her expression cold as ice.

—The brightest light is more terrifying than the darkest darkness, she said, her voice sharp like a blade.

With those words, the minotaur stopped moving.

Its skin began to harden, turning back into stone as it returned to the niche in the wall.

Within seconds, the path was clear, and the massive gate stood before us.

Marcelina raised her hand and touched the surface of the gate.

A thread of light emerged from her finger, tracing the cracks and contours of the hidden mechanism within the structure.

The sound of ancient gears turning echoed, and the gate slowly began to open, revealing the interior of the tower.

As we crossed the entrance, my eyes fell upon a beautiful place.

The inner corridor was vast, illuminated by floating orbs of magical light that danced in the air, casting soft shadows over the white stone walls.

Acolytes were everywhere, constantly moving like ants in an anthill.

Some carried stacks of thick books with white covers.

Others had exotic birds perched on their shoulders, birds that glowed with vibrant colors and seemed to whisper words in unknown languages.

There were acolytes stained with blood, their faces dark but determined.

Some appeared injured, yet walked as if the pain were not enough to stop them.

Even stranger, I noticed several whose bodies had been altered in unnatural ways.

There was a young man with a second mouth sewn into the palm of his hand, while another had extra eyes that constantly moved, analyzing everything around him.

Marcelina guided us through this chaotic place.

The walk through the tower’s facilities seemed endless, but Marcelina’s explanation made the environment a bit more understandable.

—Our Sunmount Tower was built in the Lucarian Year 698, and nearly a thousand years have passed since then... As for the founder of the tower, it is Atreus Raven Darkin.

Those words echoed in my mind.

A thousand years...

Marcelina continued without even looking back, yet her voice carried authority.

—The door all of you entered through earlier is the main gate!

—And besides that, there are many exits within the tower.

—When you become true Mages, you will discover whether you want to stay here or not!

Her words were clear.

The tower was not a simple place; it was a fortress of learning and power, where the decision to stay or leave would not be taken lightly.

She continued detailing the structure of the place.

—Our Sunmount Tower is divided into several large areas: dormitories, classrooms, laboratories, gardening zones, a trading post, mission areas, libraries, labyrinths, among other things.

I tried to mentally visualize each of these areas.

But what caught my attention most was the mention of the labyrinths.

Could there be labyrinths with Minotaurs here in the tower?

—As for the exact locations, someone will take you for an induction later.

—For now, all of you must follow me to register in the administrative area, and afterward we will begin selecting your teachers!

Marcelina stopped in front of a glass door, her fingers lightly touching the cold metal of the steel handles.

—This is the administrative area. However, I believe none of you will be willing to come here again in the future!

Her words sounded like a warning, but something told me this visit would only be the first of many.

When I looked at the symbols on the glass door, something bothered me.

There was nothing familiar, nothing like what my database offered.

Then, like a blade cutting through the air, Marcelina noticed my discomfort and turned, saying:

—Ah! I forgot that none of you know the magical language yet!

She let out a small laugh and continued.

—Don’t worry! This is one of the fundamentals of enchantment—you will learn it in the future!

Suddenly, a deep, aged voice came from inside the room.

—Marcelina, my daughter. You’ve arrived?

The doors opened automatically.

I entered the room behind Marcelina and found an elderly man, with a white beard and white eyebrows, seated behind a massive black wooden desk.

He was writing with a quill, almost as if he were immersed in deep thought, completely unaware of everything around him.

Beside him, piles of scrolls were stacked, and crystal balls glowed uneasily on the shelves behind him.

The old man lifted his eyes and, with a gentle smile, replied:

—You’re late!

Marcelina broke the silence.

—We encountered some problems along the way.

—While passing through the territory of the Lord of the Storm, we were stopped by a group of elementals and were only released after I showed the letter of passage.

But as he looked at the acolytes behind Marcelina, his smile vanished for a moment.

He seemed to notice the blood on their clothes and the general condition of some of them.

His voice grew more serious.

—Did you happen to kill some of these acolytes?

Marcelina spoke in a thin, almost childlike voice.

—That bastard dared to laugh at me! How does a damned acolyte dare to laugh at a mage?

The old man let out a soft chuckle and shook his head before turning to Marcelina and saying in a gentler tone.

—Well... if that’s all, then there’s no problem.

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