In just a few breaths, the sky was entirely soaked in blood-red, with the weighty, oppressive clouds spreading like congealed blood. The thick crimson hues dripped down, drenching the previously serene and warm atmosphere of Hoddam Academy in darkness and gloom.
The lively chatter and noise within the academy seemed to vanish in an instant, as everyone stopped in their tracks and instinctively looked up at the sky.
Under the scarlet light, each small and fragile face was marked with shock and confusion, alongside the growing fear of the unknown disaster looming over them.
Time seemed to stand still at that moment.
In just a few seconds, the massive crimson clouds began to churn violently, quickly forming an enormous blood sphere that replaced the sun, becoming a new blood-red sun in the sky.
"[Blood Dusk Nova]!"
An icy, hoarse voice, like a chilling wind from an ancient castle, resounded as the crimson "sun" exploded, turning into a colossal ring-shaped blood wave!
The rune array protecting Hoddam Academy shattered instantly, the central white core extinguishing, and torrents of blood-red surged downward.
The entire academy plunged into chaos.
Countless people shouted and ran, while in the mentor district, silhouettes of wizards, like small suns, rose into the sky, emitting intense bursts of light.
From the scarlet clouds descended giant blood-red hands, followed by figures in black robes emerging from behind the clouds.
Ronan stood in front of the charming blue-roofed house, suddenly seeing the roof break open as a girl in a black wizard gown was pulled out, hurriedly flying into the sky.
The girl looked panicked and helpless, holding her wizard hat with one hand and a thick spellbook with the other.
Her short hair, fluttering chaotically in the wind, along with her delicate crystal glasses slipping down her nose.
Before leaving, she glanced toward Ronan, her mouth moving as if to say something, but she vanished in an instant.
Even after the girl had completely disappeared, Ronan hadn't fully recovered from the sudden upheaval.
Amid the escalating chaos, the scent of burning spells filled the air, and everything around him seemed distant.
At that moment, only one thought continuously churned in his mind—
How...
How could his home be gone right after he became a formal wizard?
Laura stood in a massive room made of countless brown-black vines, staring expressionlessly at the only small window letting in sunlight above her.
"How long do you plan to keep me here?"
"That depends on you, Laura."
Another woman's voice echoed in the room, more mature and magnetic than Laura's, like the rustling of wind through leaves.
"What did I do wrong?"
Laura's expression suddenly twisted, her pale face etched with green runes. "Is it wrong to avenge my dead husband?"
She shouted toward a direction, "Do you not believe me either?!"
"I believe you."
The voice calmly replied, "The failed spell experiment linked your soul with Faor's. It's normal for you to have premonitions about his death that others can't understand."
"Then let me out now! Let me kill that deceitful, despicable worm myself!"
"End this madness, Laura!"
The woman's voice suppressed Laura's hysteria, carrying a tone of weary resignation. "This incident has caused too many problems.
Your impulsive marriage with Faor, you never shared any genuine feelings, nor were you truly a couple. What you had was a twisted control and possessiveness born from a mistaken bond. Do you remember how much you loathed him initially? You couldn't even stand breathing the same air.
Because of you, many innocents have died, and discontent in the academy has grown. Even as the headmistress, I cannot ignore this entirely.
Let it end here. For both your sake and everyone else's, it's the best outcome."
"No!"
As the woman tried to comfort her, Laura suddenly realized something, "You want this to end because that's what you desire, right? You knew who the true owner of the Corpse Garden was! You deliberately sent Faor! You tampered with him... You knew he'd die, no matter whose hand it was!"
Laura's emotions surged, turning to loud accusations, "Answer me, isn't that right?!"
The rustling of wind through leaves paused for a moment, and then the woman's voice resumed, devoid of emotion, cold and indifferent.
"It seems even with Faor's death, the residual imprint on you will take time to fade."
"Shut up!"
Laura screamed, releasing a tremendous wave of mental energy as her face lit up with dense green runes. Her hair, like seaweed, flew wildly, and she began to levitate.
"I'll ask you one last time, will you let me out?"
"I'll avenge Faor! Anyone who approaches or harms him must die!"
Laura's eyes were filled with coldness, distortion, and a near-pathological obsession. But her outburst met with silence, only the small window above continued to close.
"Ah!"
Vines, thick and spiked, emerged from Laura's back, frantically attacking everything in sight.
After a while of raging attacks—
"Boom!"
Her room suddenly shook violently, as if about to collapse.
This surprised Laura, unexpected emotions surfacing.
The next moment, the prison-like room began to disintegrate, and a blazing golden leaf flew toward Laura, which she instinctively caught.
"Leave here, Laura! No matter what you intend, remember one thing—leave immediately, as far as possible!"
The previously silent woman's voice returned, now urgent and grave, a tone Laura had never heard before.
Laura watched the vines imprisoning her retreat rapidly, then shoot upward.
The outside light flooded in, but it was blood-red.
Chaos and noise followed, and Laura soon saw the sky filled with dense blood-red clouds, and the familiar dark green figure clashing with them.
Suddenly granted freedom, amidst the unforeseen crisis and chaos, Laura momentarily lost her next course of action.
But soon, the brief calm gave way to renewed madness and obsession.
Laura's gaze turned resolute, filled with intense malice and killing intent, instinctively locking onto a direction. With a low howl, she transformed into a green blur and vanished into the sky.
"The despicable worm must die!"
Meanwhile, amidst the chaos, two figures suddenly looked up, as if receiving a command, and unhesitatingly left the battlefield to pursue Laura's retreating figure.
"Is the Nefar Key something a puny rural wizard faction deserves to possess?"
"Get lost!"
"Boom!—"
The crimson blood cloud and colossal dark green vines clashed violently, with the vines tearing and churning through the blood cloud. The residual energy from the spell collisions lashed the ground like a massive whip, creating fissures and whipping up fierce gales, with explosions and a woman's furious screams echoing.
Ronan watched the apocalyptic scene, feeling a chill down his spine. Without hesitation, he turned and ran from the battlefield.
This was a battle among higher-level wizards, and even as a first-level formal wizard, he had no place in it.
In fact, Ronan had witnessed several academy formal wizards fall beneath the crimson blood cloud's assault.
Not only was there the mysterious master of the crimson blood cloud, but also many black-robed formal wizards, with battles raging everywhere, turning the entire academy into a battlefield.
"Get away from the chaos center, and once things settle, consider returning."
As he ran, Ronan's mind raced.
He had no intention of "weathering the storm" with the academy. Having just advanced, without learning even a single first-level spell, joining a formal wizard-level melee was unwise.
Moreover, he felt no attachment to the academy.
Hoddam Academy had always looked down from a lofty position on all low-level wizards, treating wandering wizards as cannon fodder, like beasts of burden. After joining, Ronan faced cold treatment due to his aptitude.
As he once said, he joined the academy solely for the formal wizard inheritance.
Since he hadn't even received that, expecting him to fight for the academy was absurd.
Ronan ran swiftly, his black robe and gray-white hair streaming behind him.
With the academy's rune array shattered, the shrouding mist dissipated. Outside, the town was in chaos, though no black-robed figures were seen, only the panic-induced riot of wandering gray robes.
Just like the chaos he had experienced before.
"Why did the Forest of Whispered Death suddenly launch a surprise attack on the academy?
If they could break the array and strike directly, why has the battle dragged on for half a year?"
"And what is the Nefar Key?"
Many questions flashed through Ronan's mind, but with no one to answer, he had no time to seek answers.
Suppressing his doubts, Ronan quickly slipped into an abandoned house.
Inside, he hastily changed out of his academy robes, donning the simplest gray robe, and disguised himself as a wandering wizard, trying to blend into the fleeing crowd.
But after a few steps, Ronan noticed something amiss.
Around him, people kept their distance, preferring to be packed like sardines rather than come close, their faces filled with fear or awe, deliberately avoiding him.
"How foolish!"
Ronan realized he was constantly and naturally emitting a powerful mental energy aura.
Like a shark swimming into a school of sardines, hiding was impossible.
Eyes flickering, Ronan quickly retrieved a fragmented mirror-like magical tool from his pouch, using it to mimic the power of a nearby fourth-level wandering wizard.
The aura of a formal wizard quickly concealed, he joined the crowd seamlessly.
"Whoosh—"
A frantic figure swept over the crowd, the air of authority prompting those below to look up.
"An academy formal wizard..."
Ronan, mingling with the crowd, watched the figure retreating in the sky, feeling slightly relieved.
Seeing other formal wizards fleeing reassured him.
But before Ronan could relax, another figure, emanating a formal wizard aura, swiftly passed overhead.
This figure carried a heavy scent of blood, casually tossing a blood-ball-like spell below.
The spell exploded in the dense crowd, eliciting screams and cries.
Laughing heartily, the figure flew away.
"A black robe attacker!"
Ronan clenched his teeth lightly.
The latecoming black robe was clearly pursuing the fleeing academy wizard.
It seemed that being amidst the chaos, escaping entirely was no easy task.
Thankfully, he had just advanced to first level and chose to flee decisively; otherwise, he might have been targeted too.
With this in mind, Ronan, face cold, quickly navigated through the crowd, soon leaving the town. On the vast field, teeming with fleeing figures, he chose a less crowded direction and sprinted away at full speed.
With [Ascetic Body Training] at expert-level completion, he appeared aged but remained physically powerful, exceeding his previous state.
His slender body moved like a high-precision machine, propelling him forward at incredible speed, raising a long wave of earth. To an observer, it might seem like an earth spell was in use.
As he ran, Ronan became increasingly aware of the potent vitality within him, eager to break free but tightly bound by something, unable to fully release.
Ronan sprinted to the field's edge, entering the forest, running until he felt entirely out of danger, before stopping.
Standing on a high, open spot, he looked back the way he came.
Ronan saw that the sky above Hoddam Academy was covered by a dense, thick blood cloud, seemingly larger than before, with lightning-like blood streaks descending.
The dark green belonging to the headmistress was nearly invisible.
Clearly, in this high-level wizard battle, the attacking black robes held the upper hand.
Feeling weighed down, Ronan wasn't worried for the academy but was uncertain of his future.
Had he received the first-level spell and soul sigil inheritance, leaving wouldn't matter.
But fate seemed to enjoy toying with him, choosing this moment for disaster, even delaying by a few days would have helped.
Grace under the blue roof, such a kind-hearted girl...
Ronan felt overwhelmed, turning away from the academy, not looking back.
Wandering aimlessly into the forest, he pondered where to stay for a while.
Somewhere safe, where he could monitor the academy's situation...
Suddenly, Ronan stopped.
The forest wind rustled the leaves.
Slowly, Ronan looked up to see, tens of meters ahead, a young man in a black robe with a short staff, hovering in mid-air, looking down at him with interest.
"Even with all my caution...
I've still been marked?"
Ronan murmured, strands of white hair at his temples fluttering in the wind, his face slowly calming.
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