Magician in Type-Moon

Page 508

The boy looked at Jorek, his heart filled with gratitude.

Jorek rotated his stiff shoulders, a bright smile on his face, and spoke at the same time as Karl:

"I never imagined that we would all become Dr. Hartrace's apprentices."

“Although he is only a disciple in name only,” Karl said in a somewhat relaxed tone.

"But being able to return to Earth and study modern magic for about two years is already an excellent opportunity. Moreover, with the honor of being survivors, our future path is almost entirely up to us. There couldn't be a better condition!"

Jolek waved without hesitation:

"Well done, kid!"

The boy was infected by this optimistic atmosphere and couldn't help but smile.

As a result, several months later, he confessed to everyone about Hartres.

During several secret meetings with Hartres, the latter decided to take the entire team as his disciples, and the matter was settled in a flurry of activity.

Is this the Minister of the Major Sciences, who holds the most authority in the Clock Tower under the Dean and the Monarch? The boy felt a sense of inexplicable fear.

He never imagined that his life would take such a turn for the better.

Of course, with each secret meeting, Hartres and the boy and others also established a smuggling route for the cursed bodies, and the income from this was also a major reason for shortening their terms.

To avoid making the Bureau of Anatomy feel uncomfortable, they went to great lengths to conduct intelligence work, arranging for reasons such as "some of the team members actually had connections with the Department of Modern Magic" and "they obtained funding through Hartress's mediation."

Fragments of memories were still lingering in his mind when the boy suddenly changed the subject.

"By the way, what career paths do you all plan to take after entering the Department of Modern Magic?"

His words broke the silence in the group and made the atmosphere around them a little more somber.

“You’re thinking really far ahead.” Karl chuckled, his tone relaxed. “We’ve only just entered; who knows what the future holds?”

"Yes, finding good connections while in school is quite important," the boy added firmly.

Jorek nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes: "Actually, once you enter the Clock Tower and establish your own path, the future changes can be big or small. We'll have to face this sooner or later."

The boy vaguely remembered that Hartley had said something similar. He had told the boy, "You need to think about how to study and what kind of person you want to become in the future."

future.

This word never held any real meaning for the boy. For him, the focus of life was always on the battles and adventures in Albion, while those distant prospects seemed to have nothing to do with him.

However, after entering the modern magic department, the weight of this word gradually seeped in.

“My goal is to join the Bureau of Mysterious Remains Dissection,” Ashira suddenly spoke, her voice as calm and indifferent as ever. “That way, I can put my experience here to good use, especially what happened in Albion, the Tomb of the Spirits.”

Her gaze remained unwavering; the dark-skinned girl stared intently at the maze ahead. That unwavering determination seemed to have already paved the way for her future.

The boy couldn't help but ponder, thinking that Ashira's approach might be a worthy example to follow.

She is well aware of her own position and has clear goals, while he himself seems to be still wandering in confusion.

"Ha!" Suddenly, Gesells' laughter broke the silence. He shrugged, his expression lazy yet full of confidence.

“I don’t want to be dragged into that endless struggle in the clock tower again. Taking modern magic courses is fine, but I plan to return to my unaffiliated status and make a living by selling magic medicine.”

His words carried a carefree attitude, as if he had already seen through the complex struggles and power struggles.

It is said that before entering Albion, Gesells was an unaffiliated magician who made a living by his own skills.

He didn't pursue power over the clock tower; he just wanted to continue doing what he was good at and live a carefree life.

Of course, the money and magical body acquired here, as well as the clock tower technology to be acquired later, should greatly help that kind of life.

"So, what about the brothers over there?"

Gesells asked softly, glancing at Karl and Jorek.

Karlger chuckled and scratched his head, looking somewhat shy, while Jorek gave a bashful smile.

“Ah, like Ashira, my goal is to enter the Bureau of Mysterious Remains Dissection,” Karl replied, his tone slightly relaxed.

“My brother gave me the invitation,” Jorek continued, his gaze slightly lowered, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“I have decided to become a member of the Kurudes family. Although it depends on the clock tower’s performance, if everything goes well, I may be able to be on the list of candidates for heir.”

A similar expression appeared on the faces of the two brothers.

The boy looked at them and felt a warmth welling up in his heart.

Those slightly overweight figures may become even more bloated as they get older, but the young man knows that no matter how their physique changes, their reliability remains the same.

They are his strongest support in this unfamiliar student life, and there may be many more moments of mutual support in the future.

After exchanging glances, Karlger suddenly asked, "I remember you were planning to stay with Dr. Hartracey after you graduated, right?"

The boy was slightly taken aback, then nodded.

That's what I meant.

Jolek looked surprised, a mischievous smile appearing on his face.

"Hey, hey~ Isn't that a waste? You know, the power in the research field has always been controlled by those old guys. Wouldn't it be better to sell yourself to a family or organization?"

“Hey, wait a minute,” Gesells retorted dismissively, his tone tinged with contempt.

"Even with the new generation of kids like this, the goal pursued by magicians will not change. Magicians do not fight for immediate gains, but should accumulate knowledge generation after generation to unlock the path to the source."

Then, Gesellsson and the brothers began a heated debate, their words filled with sparks and antagonism, as if the topics would never end.

Watching their interaction, the boy couldn't help but feel a silent surge of emotion.

This was perhaps the last time he saw them argue so naturally in Albion.

Although this scene would soon repeat itself after entering the modern magic department, the boy still felt that this moment had a sense of farewell.

Just then, Ashira whispered in his ear, "—You could also target the anatomy department."

The boy was stunned, seemingly not expecting Ashira to bring up the topic so directly.

Her words carried a subtle emotion, a mixture of playfulness and caution, as if they were lines from a quarrel.

The boy nodded slightly, his lips twitching as he tried to hide the strange feeling that suddenly welled up inside him.

He unconsciously touched his cheek and felt that it was a little hot at that moment.

Each person's dream gradually takes shape, and they each pursue their own goals.

For them, the future is a bright and promising future, full of hope and boundless promise. This is an indescribable stroke of luck, something to be immensely happy about.

However, an invisible shadow began to fall over the boy's heart.

This gloom gradually gathered in his heart, bringing with it a sense of unease he had never felt before.

He suddenly realized that the future was not entirely bright; it was also accompanied by the unknown and fear.

The boy gazed ahead as snowflakes danced in the air, making the world around him seem exceptionally distant.

Will those uncertain futures one day become an inescapable fog, swallowing up all hope and expectation?

.........

Her silver hair fluttered in the wind, like stars in the sky.

That was Animusphia, the daughter of the Celestial Sovereign.

Her figure seemed to come from another world, subtly out of place with her surroundings, like a lonely star suspended in the dim twilight.

"Oh dear, I didn't expect that not only Mr. Rufreus, but also Miss Animusfia from the Department of Astrophysics would come."

Yvette smiled slightly, her gaze lingering lightly on the girl.

Her words carried a hint of lightness and playfulness, clearly a lighthearted banter between acquaintances.

However, as soon as he finished speaking, Rufreus frowned slightly, his gaze instantly sharpening as he swept his displeasure over Yvette.

For a moment, the atmosphere seemed to freeze, as if the air itself had become heavy because of the old man's dissatisfaction.

London at dusk, the deserted streets, the unusual silence made the whole city seem distorted by some invisible force.

Amidst this oppressive atmosphere, Rufreus's aura stood out. The deathly aura emanating from him was calm and chilling, as if it were corrupting all life in the air.

Euryph, the sovereign of the Spirit Conjuring Department, truly lives up to his reputation.

Summoning is the act of summoning the soul of the dead and making it obey the magician's commands, thus granting the magician control over death.

But at this moment, the old man's displeased gaze was fixed on Yvette, clearly displeased by her behavior.

Even though Yvette was also a member of the magical nobles, in this situation, she was merely an attendant.

As a follower, it would be a breach of etiquette to make a joke with another "host" without permission.

This is not merely arrogance, but a reflection of the values ​​of magicians deeply influenced by aristocracy.

Yvette realized that she had inadvertently crossed a line. Her frivolous behavior seemed to be an intolerable desecration in the eyes of these magicians.

She quietly retreated behind Matouchi's seat, bowed her head in apology, and tried to ease the awkwardness in the room.

Rufreus paused briefly, but his gaze did not immediately return to her; instead, it turned to Matou Ike.

His fingers were slightly bent, and the two gemstone rings on each finger shimmered with an eerie light as he moved, like hidden stars in the night sky, gentle yet dangerous.

He smiled faintly, his voice low and hoarse:

"I thought you would only be associated with the El-Melloi family and wouldn't accept an invitation from this old man."

"How could that be? Putting aside my own wishes, El-Melloi himself has a deep connection with the 'Euphoris' of the Conjuration Department."

Matou Ike shrugged.

The “fate” he mentioned was not just empty talk, but had a solid and profound background—the previous El-Melloi monarch, Kenneth, was one of the beloved disciples of the old man Rufreus.

Under the old man's personal tutelage, Kenneth quickly grew from a young magician into the most outstanding disciple of the time, becoming a leader in the field of spirit summoning and a source of pride for Rufreus.

What makes things even more complicated is that Kenneth's wife, Solau, was Rufreius's daughter.

The relationship between the two families is far more complex than that of master and apprentice, father and daughter.

In fact, the relationship between the El-Melloi family and the Spellcaster can be traced back several generations.

That kind of "fate" is not just about blood ties and mentorship, but more like an invisible bond that firmly binds the two together.

Upon hearing Matou Ike's words, Rufreus's eyes narrowed slightly, like a snake lurking in the shadows, instantly releasing a chilling killing intent.

He didn't immediately refute, but for a moment his gaze seemed to be weighing something.