This wizard only wants to take students

Chapter 31: Noriaan’s Anxiety
2024-08-20

“Failed… why did Experiment 013 fail?” Inside the laboratory, Noriaan wore a slightly manic expression.

He threw the haemostat in his hand down in frustration, then paced back and forth in the lab for a long time before his emotions gradually calmed.

“There must be a problem with the culture medium, and the Leybourg seal’s influence is stronger than expected.” After composing himself, Noriaan coldly picked up a scalpel and began reviewing Experiment 013.

But at this moment, aside from the experiment running into trouble, Lucian’s reawakening was also weighing on Noriaan’s mind, making him even more agitated.

“Damn it, how did he expel the power of a formal sorcerer? My mentor personally told me that Lucian’s injuries were very serious.” A flicker of anger lit up Noriaan’s pale yellow eyes.

Even though Lucien was currently weaker than him, every third-level sorcerer apprentice had the potential to become a full-fledged sorcerer. If Lucien somehow got lucky and advanced before him, killing Noriaan would be as easy as squashing a bedbug.

That’s why large-scale conflicts between third-level apprentices were rare. But when one did occur, they would do everything possible to eliminate each other.

“I’ve already cured 103 spirit runes. I’m only five away from the limit of a Level 3 Sorcerer Apprentice.”

“Lucien knows I’m close to breaking through. If I succeed, I’ll definitely kill him—so he’ll do everything in his power to stop me.”

Noriaan’s eyes grew darker.
And now, even Experiment 013 has hit a snag—something I had been so confident about. If I can’t perfect the sorcery formation, my chances of promotion will drop even further!

The gap between a third-level sorcerer apprentice and a formal sorcerer was immense.

In fact, the difference between an ordinary person and a Level 3 Sorcerer Apprentice wasn’t nearly as vast as that between a Level 3 Apprentice and a Full Sorcerer.

That’s why most third-level apprentices at Greybone Academy had no choice but to rely on a single official sorcerer. Negotiating with multiple official sorcerers for better treatment was nearly impossible.

And for a third-level apprentice to be promoted? Incredibly difficult.

According to Greybone Meditation’s promotion method, once a Level 3 Apprentice condensed 108 spirit runes, they needed to undergo a corresponding “Promotion Ceremony.” Ideally, they’d also use an auxiliary potion like Holla’s Blessing to increase their odds of success.

But even with all preparations, an apprentice with fifth-grade qualifications still had less than a 40% chance of becoming a full sorcerer. If the promotion failed, the spiritual sea would develop cracks and impurities, requiring years to recover. Repeated failures—or simply bad luck—could even cause the spiritual sea to collapse and the apprentice’s head to explode.

The success rate was even worse for those with poorer qualifications.

And if someone deliberately sabotaged the promotion process? The odds of survival would be one in ten—if that.

Although he wasn’t certain if Lucian had the strength to interfere with his promotion, Noriaan knew one thing for sure: a dead man can’t interfere with anything.

So, the best move was to strike first—while he still held the upper hand.

Thinking this, Noriaan lowered his head slightly, eyes ice-cold.

Within the academy, as fellow third-level apprentices, he might be able to suppress Lucian temporarily. But to kill him? That would likely trigger severe punishment.

Even if he succeeded, the price would be high.

But sometimes, killing didn’t have to be done personally.

His greatest advantage over Lucian was that he had a full-fledged sorcerer behind him.

Lucien, on the other hand, had no such backer—for now.

Although it wouldn’t be hard for someone with Lucian’s strength to find one, at this moment he hadn’t joined any official sorcerer’s faction.

This is my chance. A brief window of opportunity.

“Looks like I need to visit my mentor,” Noriaan muttered, a flicker of excitement flashing across his face.

Asking his mentor to take action was the most reliable approach. After all, a formal sorcerer could easily crush a third-level apprentice.

Although he’d have to pay a steep price in resources to satisfy Mentor Loren’s greed, sweeping away the biggest obstacle on his path to promotion was, in his view, absolutely worth it.

With that thought, Noriaan quickened his pace.

Back in the lab, a corpse lay quietly on the dissection table, already cold.

A scalpel was still embedded in its chest. The left arm dangled naturally off the side, swinging slightly from inertia. The metal prosthetic occasionally knocked against the metal pillars of the table, producing faint, rhythmic clinks. Hollow eyes stared lifelessly at the laboratory ceiling.

“Well, I already know everything.” A lazy voice spoke from a soft red sofa.

“Meow~” On a velvet pillow nearby, a three-tailed black cat stretched out and twisted its body, oblivious to Noriaan standing respectfully nearby.

A hand reached out from the sofa.

The black cat walked over and nestled down so its owner could pet it more comfortably.

“Mmm.” The person on the sofa slowly sat up. At first glance, one might think she was a noble girl of seven or eight.

Noriaan lowered his head further, not daring to meet the gaze of his mentor, Tutor Loren.

Due to a past experimental accident, her appearance was permanently frozen in childhood. But as her student, Norjaan knew better than anyone—Loren was likely the most murderous of all the official sorcerers in Greybone Academy.

Many of her former students had become… “quiet dolls.”

Before her, Noriaan even tried to suppress the sound of his breathing.

“If you want me to take action and kill a third-level apprentice within the academy, it’ll cost you five thousand magic stones.” Loren’s voice still carried a childlike lilt as she stroked her magical pet, but her tone was absolute.

Five thousand magic stones… Noriaan inhaled sharply. He lowered his head even more, but dared not speak out in protest.

His heart, however, grew bitter.

Five thousand magic stones? That’s more than my entire fortune!

“It’s easy for me to kill a third-level sorcerer apprentice. But doing so without reason would break the rules,” Loren said, releasing the black cat and raising her hand to admire her pale pink nails. “It’s difficult to establish rules—but all too easy to break them.”