The Spirit Ignition Potion is a crucial catalyst for the transformation of mental power in apprentice wizards and an essential requirement for advancing to a formal wizard. For apprentice wizards, especially those among the wandering community, it is incredibly precious. The ingredients needed to concoct a Spirit Ignition Potion are rare and difficult for apprentices to obtain.
This key to unlocking the door to becoming a formal wizard is tightly controlled by academies, rarely sold even in the potion shops of the Dwarf Market.
In Hoddam, most Spirit Ignition Potions produced are first supplied to the wizards within the academy.
One of the main reasons Ronan had always wanted to join the academy was to gain access to this coveted potion.
Unexpectedly, he found one while sorting through the storage pouch of a black-robed wizard from the Forest of Whispered Death.
Ronan carefully stored the Spirit Ignition Potion back in his pouch, treating it like a treasure, filled with joy.
It's said that the less talented a wizard apprentice is, the more Spirit Ignition Potions they need to advance to a formal wizard.
For Ronan, one potion might not be enough.
But since he wasn't yet at the threshold of becoming a formal wizard, he could continue to plan his path forward.
Returning his attention to the notebook, Ronan found the black-robed wizard's plans for advancing into different schools of magic after becoming a formal wizard intriguing.
A recurring keyword—Soul Sigil—piqued Ronan's curiosity.
This seemed crucial for post-advancement cultivation and involved choosing a school of magic.
Unfortunately, the notebook didn't provide a detailed explanation, so Ronan could only store the question in his mind.
Flipping through the remaining pages, Ronan found that the notebook ended there.
He glanced at the remaining items on the table, sorting them into three categories: useful, useless, and those needing quick disposal, and packed them into his three storage pouches.
With a clear mind, he pushed open the door and stepped out of the small hut.
Today was overcast, with light snow falling and a biting wind.
Thanks to his robust physique and the [Temperature Control] feature of his robe, Ronan didn't feel too cold.
Standing at the doorway, he looked in the direction of Vinicia's cottage, where the window glowed with warm orange light.
"She didn't go either..."
Ronan's eyes flickered.
Today was a special day—Barry and his son had left with the esteemed potioneer they had spoken of, and most of those who attended their farewell dinner went to see them off.
Ronan recalled the sound of the ship's horn he heard while sorting through the black-robed wizard's storage pouch. By now, Barry and his son were likely on their way out of Hoddam.
As he pondered, several figures slowly approached from the other end of Drop Street.
It was Old Wills and the others returning from the farewell.
Ronan watched them approach. The Jolin couple looked troubled, and Old Wills spoke to him, but Jacob was nowhere to be seen.
Ronan didn't think much of it until Old Wills shared a series of startling news—
Jacob had left with Barry and his son.
No one knew when he had secretly contacted Barry or how he had convinced them.
Sean had even tried to jump ship before departure but was pulled back by Barry and slapped hard.
"It's just a simple transport task; what danger could there be? I saw Level 1 apprentices going!"
"That's them. I really don't want you to get hurt, Jolin. You're my husband."
"You just think I'm a cripple, less than a Level 1 apprentice because I'm missing an arm!"
"Crash—"
The sound of breaking pottery mixed with a woman's faint sobbing drifted from the cottage.
Ronan stood on the snowy ground before the hut, watching the shadow of a man pacing restlessly like a nervous hyena, his brow furrowed.
"What's happened to him?"
He turned to Old Wills beside him.
In Ronan's memory, Wizard Jolin was gentle, compliant, and somewhat timid. Now he seemed gloomy, irritable, impotent, and reportedly drinking heavily.
Old Wills seemed to know some of the backstory and whispered, "Since Jacob left with Barry and his son... his emotions have been unstable..."
Ronan turned away, shaking his head. "If this continues, he'll end up getting into trouble."
Old Wills remained silent, walking with Ronan along the snow-covered street.
Along the way, they occasionally encountered hurried wizards in gray robes.
Compared to before, Drop Street was much quieter during the day. Most people were busy with tasks issued by the academy, leaving early and returning late, sometimes spending days away.
"The tasks issued on the summons board have been getting harder... there's hardly any gathering tasks left... I suspect that soon, the risk-free low-level tasks will be completely removed. By then, the so-called summons might take on a completely different form."
Listening to Old Wills' low murmur, Ronan's expression became subtly complex.
This seemed inevitable.
The academy wouldn't issue a summons just to get help moving things or gathering herbs.
Starting with low-difficulty tasks to give the wandering gray robes a taste of sweet rewards and lower their guard, the real purpose was yet to come.
Cannon fodder? Suicide squads?
Several terms flashed through Ronan's mind.
He knew that more than just he and Old Wills could see this, but few could remain unaffected. Most people, including himself, had little choice.
"Oh, right, any updates on the ship tickets?"
Ronan suddenly remembered to ask Old Wills.
Old Wills' reaction, however, made Ronan's heart sink.
With a frown, Old Wills informed him that the wizard who claimed to have access to tickets hadn't been seen for days, and those who had paid deposits were now searching for him.
"Well, if it was a scam, at least we haven't lost anything yet."
Old Wills ended the topic and stopped, pulling a small oak box from his robe and handing it to Ronan.
"There's something else to tell you, Ronan."
"This morning, Andre and his sister also left."
"They asked me to give you this as thanks for saving them last time."
Andre...
Ronan was taken aback, accepting the oak box from Old Wills.
Thinking back, he realized it had been a long time since he last saw the half-elf siblings.
Since leaving the forest, they hadn't crossed paths again.
Unexpectedly, the next mention was of their departure.
"Did they take a ship too?"
Ronan opened the oak box, finding only a black seed inside.
"No.
They're planning to trek through the forest."
Old Wills' answer reminded Ronan of the siblings' reputation as jungle survival experts.
For them, crossing the forest—a deadly "death route" for ordinary wizards—might not be so perilous.
"Did they say where they were headed?"
Ronan inquired, unable to discern the seed's origin.
Old Wills thought for a moment and replied, "They mentioned heading to the Northern Highlands."
"Northern Highlands."
Ronan repeated the words, gazing northward only to see a sky covered with gray, snow-laden clouds.
He couldn't recall which wizard book mentioned it, but it was said that the Northern Highlands were home to elves and barbarians.
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