Felix shifted his gaze back, his expression blank as he looked at Oran. “Class president, if you don’t speak, no one will mistake you for a mute.”

Oran smiled. “Does Miss Flenqi know you’re like this?”

“Does it concern you?” Felix replied in a flat tone, casually picking up his spoon and stirring it lazily. The thick soup sloshed in the cauldron, and the spilled liquid almost splashed onto Oran, but luckily, he dodged in time.

Oran gave a sarcastic smile. “You can’t just waste valuable magic potion materials like that, you know. Miss Flenqi personally handed them to you.”

Felix shrugged unapologetically, his eyes cold as they settled on Oran. He didn’t say a word.

Oran felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze. After a brief silence, he couldn’t help but speak up. “The thing with the Purple Antler Valley, that was your fault. You broke the rules by crossing the mountain peak, and you deliberately wandered around where the senior students were taking their intermediate Spirit Beast Class, which attracted those bullies. In the end, you even had me pass on the message for you. If I hadn’t been reliable, you’d have been beaten to a pulp by now.”

“So?” Felix narrowed his eyes slightly.

“So don’t forget, you owe me a favor.”

“…Fine.” Felix sighed, seemingly puzzled. “Class president, you seem to enjoy collecting favors from others?”

Oran’s eyes flickered. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You still haven’t told me about the secret between you and Miss Flenqi.”

Oran crossed his arms smugly. “She already promised to owe me a favor. I won’t spill it.”

Felix nodded in understanding, slowly stirring the liquid in the cauldron with one hand, and carelessly added, “You’re doing the right thing. After all, people with too much to say often don’t end well.”

Oran froze. His brows furrowed slightly as he stared at the liquid in the cauldron for a long moment. Then he suddenly spoke, “In that case, I’ll give you a piece of advice. Felix, if you truly want to pursue someone, you should put away those dishonorable thoughts.”

***

Later that night, in a dormitory.

Outside, the stars glittered, and inside, the candlelight flickered.

Loewen held a small bottle that was burning with a flame, admiring it for a long time before carefully setting it back on the desk. He extinguished the flame with the cap, clearly satisfied.

The alcohol lamp was ready, and the next step was to gather materials to make the test tubes.

Loewen picked up a glass cup he had used in the Elemental Manipulation Class and examined it in the light.

The base of this cup was too thick.

Loewen sighed, thinking to himself: I’ll just make do for now, and later, if I get the chance, I’ll find a craftsman who specializes in glass-making to make a custom one.

With this thought, he quickly tidied up the desk, carefully laid out a sheet of light yellow drawing paper, and then took out a feather pen, dipped it in ink, and started drawing and writing on the paper.

Before long, he had sketched a simple diagram introducing test tubes, flasks, and beakers.

Loewen patiently waited for the ink to dry before rolling the paper into a tube and placing it in the drawer.

One by one, the lights in the dormitory building went out, and the students, exhausted from a long day, fell into a deep sleep.

Time passed, and it was already past midnight.

From the clock tower came the sound of flapping wings as a raven swiftly flew across the night sky, its dark silhouette heading toward the valley.

Felix threw on a cloak and pulled the black hood low over his head, quietly slipping out of the dormitory.

The academy was silent, as if it were shrouded in a layer of black gauze.

Felix looked around.

Felix’s gaze swept over the surroundings. All he could see were the lifeless buildings and the dark, swaying shadows of trees.

The only light came from a solitary lantern shining faintly atop the mountain in the distance. It was blurry and hard to make out—there, in the faculty’s residence, probably some tireless professor was still studying magic in the middle of the night.

The moon hid behind the clouds, and sneaked a secretive glance below.

Felix moved like a wandering ghost, crossing the empty square, heading toward Lake Celestara.

Tonight, there was no wind, and the surface of the lake was calm, without a ripple, like a dark and shining mirror.

Felix stood quietly and gazed at the water. He felt a faint unease stirring within him.

Recently, he had been inexplicably aware of a strange force within him, filling his mind to the point of madness, incessantly urging him to use magic.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

Ever since he had learned water manipulation, he kept dreaming of an endless ocean, of waves surging and crashing, and of dark currents below the surface converging into a bottomless whirlpool. It felt as though a giant eye was watching him.

Recalling the dream, Felix’s heartbeat quickened. He unconsciously took a few steps closer to the lake. The soft, damp sand beneath his feet grew increasingly wet with each step.

Just as the water kissed the tips of his toes, he stopped in his tracks.

Ripples stirred from the heart of the lake, surging toward the shore like the tide, washing over the bank with the rhythm of his pulse.

The water rose to his ankles and brought with it a sharp, biting chill.

Suddenly, he heard unsteady footsteps approaching from behind, and his nerves immediately tensed.

“Who’s there?”

“Who’s that!”

Albert and Andrew, both students in their fifth year at the academy, had done their usual thing today—sneaking out of the valley to drink heavily at a tavern in a nearby town.

Now, in the dead of night, they were stumbling back to the academy, intending to drunkenly make their way to their dorms when they spotted a figure standing by Lake Celestara. The shadowy form was indistinct.

“Which fool, hic, is trying to throw himself in the lake? Let’s give him a send-off!” Albert, still hiccupping, said with a grin.

“Alright!” Andrew, drunk and in high spirits, immediately fumbled around in his pocket. He pulled out his wand and waved it.

The figure by the lake moved instantly, dodging the unexpected bolt of white light as though it had eyes on its back.

The white light shone like lightning, capable of paralyzing its target in an instant. This was a lightning spell taught only to senior students, usually used to capture spirit beasts or hunt demon beasts.

“Hey? You think you can escape?”

“Get him!”

The two of them immediately sprang into action, their steps unsteady from the alcohol, but they still staggered forward, laughing and waving their wands as if they were playing a hunting game.

A flurry of spells shot through the air, weaving into a dazzling white net.

The “prey” continued to run along the lakeshore, and the distance between them kept increasing.

Andrew cursed from behind, and Albert panted, struggling to keep up. Just then, a blinding white light finally struck its target.

The shadow faltered, as though electrocuted. Its body trembled violently before it collapsed to the ground.

“Hahaha! Got him!” The two laughed manically. They quickly ran forward, and pushed the “prey” back down as it struggled to get up, and yanked off the hood.

As the dark clouds parted, the moonlight instantly bathed the scene, shining directly on Felix’s face.

Albert sucked in a sharp breath!

The “prey” he had pinned to the ground turned out to be a young boy, with silver hair colder than the moonlight and an eerie, pale face. His crimson eyes were wide open, pupils glowing faintly in the dark.

As Albert met those eyes, a chill ran down his spine, and he immediately thought of the bloodthirsty demon beasts that roamed the Desolate Forest.

Andrew must have felt the same, as he shouted, raising his wand. A sharp killing spell was about to shoot from the tip of his wand, aimed directly at the young man’s forehead.