"Kids these days, they really have a knack for stirring up trouble."
"Tell me about it. That young girl is particularly intriguing. She's mastered the Dark Element magic. As far as I know, only that old witch in Mosobra City possesses such knowledge."
As Elandril and Lina were restrained by the academy's overseers, deep in the heart of the underworld, two figures communicated silently, their voices conveyed by the Psychic Force.
Only those who were recognized as bona fide Dark Sorcerers could communicate through this unique Psychic Force.
The rumors had indeed been accurate. Behind some of the shady dealings in the underworld were the orchestrations of genuine Dark Sorcerers. What was peculiar, however, was that with the capabilities of a full-fledged Dark Sorcerer, they could have easily intervened during the conflict between Elandril, Lina, and the scar-faced Joke.
But they remained indifferent, observing the proceedings as if it was nothing more than a theatrical display. This detachment can be attributed to the cold and distant nature of the Dark Sorcerer community. After all, the conflict didn't directly concern them, so why bother intervening in what they deemed to be trivial matters?
Another reason might be the prolonged peace in Mosobra City. Perhaps the two Dark Sorcerers were simply bored, viewing the incident as a much-needed diversion from their mundane magical experiments.
"Curious, they weren't executed on the spot? Do those young ones have a powerful patron backing them, perhaps?""Look! There she is, the ancient witch. I knew there was some connection between her and that young girl. But I've never heard of her taking on an apprentice before, have you?" The two entities communicated silently, their thoughts conveyed through a Psychic Force.
As more and more official observers from the academy, along with senior Dark Sorcerers, began to converge on the scene, the fiasco unfolding in the shadowy backstreets came to an abrupt end.
...
"An absolute disaster!" thundered a middle-aged Dark Sorcerer from the depths of a dimly lit dungeon, his black robes swirling around him in his agitation.
Elandril and Lina were both bound by chains crafted from the winds themselves, their movements restricted. However, the sorcerer's main source of ire was not directed at them, but rather at the portly old witch standing defiantly before him.
"Three Intermediate Apprentices dead, another grievously injured. Moreover, several junior apprentices were harmed. The damage to the dark streets is incalculable. Such apprentices who flagrantly defy the academy's rules should..." His voice was filled with reproach and menace.
Not all Dark Sorcerers had a laissez-faire attitude towards their apprentices. Being an institution of dark arts, there were rules and codes of conduct to be upheld, and this was precisely the role of the academy's observers.
If Mosobra City's School of Dark Arts couldn't even maintain a facade of order and harmony, then what was the point of calling it a magical academy at all?The middle-aged Dark Sorcerer, Dathalon, was on the verge of sentencing Elandril and Lina to death when a raspy voice from the portly old witch before him interrupted, "Vice Principal Dathalon, it's but a few insignificant lives lost. They outnumbered their enemies yet still managed to get three of their own killed. They got what they deserved."
"We have limited resources at the Black Magic Academy. Are we to squander them on such failures?"
"As for the losses inflicted on the black market, whatever amount in dark gold is required, I'll cover it," the old witch cackled, showing no regard for the three fallen Intermediate Apprentices.
"It's not about compensating in dark gold. The Principal has been in seclusion for years, and as Vice Principal, it's my duty to ensure the academy's stability..." Dathalon's voice trailed off, his gaze captured by the radiant orange glow emanating from an Energy Crystal the old witch revealed.
Indeed, the issue wasn't the dark gold compensation. But the appearance of a Level-One Energy Crystal changes the dynamics entirely.
Elandril, too, possessed an Energy Crystal, a trophy he'd seized from the now-deceased Yilke. Yet, when compared to the one the old witch now brandished, his Earth Elemental Energy Crystal paled in significance, like comparing mundane dirt to the luminous brilliance of a star.
Given his still incomplete knowledge base, Elandril wasn't fully aware that his Earth Elemental Energy Crystal was at best on par with a low-level magical beast's core. In contrast, the Level-One Energy Crystal in the old witch's grasp was a genuine treasure.
The core of a primeval beast, known as the Magic Core, was equivalent to that of a Tier-One creature.
Such a Tier-One creature set the minimum standard for official Dark Sorcerers.
Dathalon, as one of the three deputy headmasters of the Dark Magic Academy, was a Tier-Two Dark Sorcerer—exceeding the prowess of a mere Tier-One practitioner.
In the world of wizards, and indeed across the galaxies, a single tier difference often signifies a fundamental disparity in one's very essence.
Had he been a regular Tier-Two mage who walked under the sun, he might have overlooked this Tier-One Energy Crystal.
Regrettably, the Dark Realms, situated deep underground and impoverished for ages, lacked significant Energy Crystal veins. A single Tier-One Energy Crystal was enough for him to engage in a little subterfuge.
After all, the experiments and research undertaken by mages are exceptionally expensive. Save for those who are wealthy in the domains of alchemy or potion-making, the situation of most mages isn't as dignified as outsiders might believe.
Would one trade the lives of three Intermediate Apprentices for a single Tier-One Energy Crystal?
Absolutely worth it!
As for the minor damages in the dark alleyways, it was just some storefronts getting singed. Replacements wouldn't cost more than a few shadow coins.
Deputy Headmaster Dathalon's reprimand was utterly silenced when the old witch produced a Tier-One Energy Crystal.
The Dark Sorcerers' indifference to life was glaringly evident.However, the old witch had promised to protect Lina, but Elandril was not her concern.
As Vice Principal Dathalon was about to dismissively snuff out the mere Junior Apprentice, Lina, bound by wind elemental shackles, pleaded urgently, "Martial aunt, please save Elandril."
"Martial aunt?" It dawned on the bystanders. The old witch was Lina's own aunt by apprenticeship!
Come to think of it, Lina did have a mentor in the past. Sadly, they were lost in a tragic experiment gone awry, an incident that left Lina with irreversible scars.
The crone before them was a peer of Lina's late mentor, explaining why she had gone to such lengths to rescue Lina this time.
Yet, just because the witch was willing to spend a precious tier-one Energy Crystal to save Lina didn't mean she'd spare any resource for Elandril.
Vice Principal Dathalon, who seemed outwardly upright, was known to be susceptible to bribes, and not without a price.
The witch smirked slyly, "What's this? Is he your young lover?"
"To be so engrossed in trivial romance even as an apprentice, I wonder how you ever became a Senior Apprentice," she remarked coldly, clearly uninterested in aiding Elandril.
In this dire scenario, Elandril realized he had to speak for himself.
He hurriedly declared, "I am the fifth disciple of Master Mosido, with a Magical Medal as proof!"
At Elandril's proclamation, both Vice Principal Dathalon and the old witch exchanged a glance, surprise evident on their faces."When did Mosido take on another apprentice?" The old witch's voice rasped out, an eerie tone hinting at her surprise and suspicion.
Simultaneously, a soft "hooting" echoed through the dungeon. The sound emanated from one of the owls that escorted Elandril, its large eyes glistening in the dim light.