Fate and Choice

Sanders paid no more mind than usual to Flora's clamor.

The corners of his lips curled in a smile, softening his stern features by a fraction.

"You are very good. You shine into illusion and bring forth reality. Your talent is most extraordinary." Sanders extended a hand to Angel, who had fallen to the floor.

Angel hesitated for a moment. The man standing before him was someone even official wizards feared. If he did not take his hand, would he get beaten? After wrestling with himself for a moment, Angel still took Sanders's hand.

Sanders pulled him to his feet and looked at him with deep brown eyes. "Would you be willing to become my student?"

Before Sanders's words had even faded, the whispers among the surrounding transcendents abruptly ceased, followed by waves of uproar.

"Sanders actually wants to take Angel as his student?! Th-this... must be the biggest news in the Southern Region this year!"

"Sanders has only taken in two students so far. Both advanced to become official wizards. This mortal boy has truly stumbled into a great fortune!"

"Hmph, rather than calling it great fortune, shouldn't you be thinking about why Sanders wants to take him as a disciple?"

"That's right. What is so special about him? Could it be that bizarre story he told during the talent test?"

"Shh—Sanders had even thrown hands to rush into the hall before Heloline could test his talent. Hasn't that already made the answer obvious?!" someone cried out, plunging everyone into thought.

That was true. Sanders had never acted excessively, not even sparing a second glance when Lord Jeral and Lady Flora had been at daggers drawn outside the dining hall. Yet this time, he had acted so impulsively. There had to be something here they did not understand... For instance, perhaps this boy named Angel possessed some special talent that made even Sanders impatient to take him under his wing?

But... no matter how good one's talent was, to an official wizard, it could only be the icing on the cake

.No wizard would truly use a person's talent as the criterion for taking a disciple. There were far too many factors to consider in advancing to become an official wizard; ordinary talents and special talents each had their own advantages.

And once one truly became an official wizard, talent only determined a wizard's lower limit. The accumulation of knowledge was the most important factor in determining a wizard's upper limit.

Following that line of reasoning, Angel's talent had even made Sanders willing to break convention and take him as a disciple.

Then... just how high would Angel's lower limit be after becoming a wizard?!

Countless thoughts raced through the crowd. Every wizard apprentice looked at Angel with deep envy. Their own futures remained uncertain, yet this boy already had one of the Southern Region's highest-ranking wizards proactively offering to take him as a disciple!

Why was the gap between people so enormous! And this boy's luck was simply off the charts—first a gold card, then an offer of discipleship. Why did none of it ever come to us?

The atmosphere at the scene was strange. It was not only the wizard apprentices who were jealous; even several official wizards felt somewhat envious.

The difference between a Level 1 wizard and a Level 2 wizard was immense. If they had had a Level 2 wizard to guide them personally, perhaps their current achievements would have been far greater...

Heloline finally understood why she had been feeling so unsettled. So that was it!

Without question, Angel's talent had to be exceptionally outstanding. Otherwise, why would Sanders have acted before she could appraise Angel's talent?

A genius student who was about to enter White Coral Floating Island Academy had been snatched away halfway through. No wonder she had felt so restless!

Heloline's beautiful eyes were full of struggle. She wanted to say something, but Sanders had never relaxed the pressure he exerted on her. The pressure she felt was even greater than before; now, she could not even move a finger.

Heloline could only pray silently in her heart: Don't agree. Whatever you do, don't agree. Though she knew such prayers were nearly useless.

The crowd's discussion lasted only an instant, and the situation did not change because of their clamor.

Angel felt that ever since he had encountered that strange seabird aboard the Bauhinia, certain things had begun to ferment and change. He had been confused from beginning to end, yet an unknown force had pushed him to where he was now.

In confusion, he had accepted the gold card. In confusion, he had stepped onto the deck. In confusion, he had been taken away by Soup Weasel. In confusion, he had been chosen by the Fragment Mayfly. Just when he thought this bewildering journey was about to end, the aristocratic-looking man before him had invited him to become his disciple.

An unknown force was pushing Angel toward an unknown direction, and his future was changing amid all manner of unknowns.

If philosophers of Earth's idealist school were to discuss this force, they might give it a new name—

They would call it: fate.

Whether that profound and mysterious fate was the culprit that had placed Angel at the center of the vortex, he did not know. The only thing he knew was that he had to answer. Otherwise, never mind the man before him—the scorching gazes of the surrounding transcendents alone were like blades, spears, swords, and halberds, making him too uneasy to sit or stand.

"Sir, I promised Lord Moro that I would go to White Coral Floating Island Academy..."

"You want to save your mentor? Mm, if I remember correctly, his name is Jon?" Sanders asked.

"Yes."

"Then do you think that after going to White Coral Floating Island Academy, an official wizard will teach you and enable you to find a way to save your mentor within five years?"

"I... don't know, but I will work hard." Angel was somewhat hesitant. He had heard Moro say that apprentices who entered wizard organizations would have an official wizard as a mentor, but they were merely nominal students, and what they learned depended on the wizard's mood. Truly becoming an official wizard's disciple was indeed very difficult.

On the other side, Heloline wanted to say, "I'll teach you." But she had no chance to speak, and the other wizards could not possibly offend Sanders by speaking up at this moment.

"Sometimes, hard work does not bring good results. If you become my disciple, I can teach you personally." Sanders rubbed his white glove. "Five years from now, if you do not have the power to save your mentor, I can give you a magic-patterned leather scroll capable of freezing any living being, regardless of its state, buying your mentor another five years. Of course, if after ten years you are still powerless, then his death will be fate."

Sanders's words made Angel abruptly raise his head.

Ten years.

It had been nearly half a year since he left Pat Manor, and he had not even reached the Prosperous Continent. To return within five years and save Jon, who was critically ill, was truly too urgent. Though Angel had not shown it on his face these past few months, he had always been anxious inside. Now that Sanders said he could give him ten years, the scales in his heart began to tip. What he lacked most was time.

"Well? Do you have an answer?"

Sanders appeared exceedingly relaxed and at ease, as though he did not care about Angel's choice. But only Flora, who knew him best, saw the urgency and obsession faintly concealed in his eyes. Flora even felt that if Angel chose to refuse, Sanders might simply knock him unconscious and carry him away.

"Just what kind of talent is this? It has actually made Mentor value him so highly." Even Flora felt somewhat envious of Angel's good fortune.

Angel pondered for a moment, then looked toward Moro in the distance.

Moro did not see Angel's gaze, but he noticed someone else's.

Heloline.

Heloline was glaring at him with fierce hatred.

At first, Moro did not understand why Heloline was so furiously angry with him. But recalling how Heloline had looked at Angel with regret earlier, Moro suddenly came to a realization.

Clearly, Heloline blamed him for failing to notice Angel's talent from the beginning. Otherwise, how could Sanders have appeared out of nowhere halfway through?

Moro felt quite wronged himself. When Angel's talent had been tested, who knew his talent was not merely "Floating"? Besides, he had only just advanced then, and in his excitement, it was inevitable that he had been a little negligent.

But Moro did not dare argue with Heloline. If he really argued with her, would he still have a place at the academy in the future?

Seeing that Heloline had taken offense at him, Moro felt a chill seep down his spine. He was only an apprentice; before an official wizard, he was like an ant. Even if Heloline beat him to death, the academy would consider it perfectly natural.

Thinking of the perilous and unknown future, Moro's thoughts turned. He gritted his teeth fiercely and made a decision in his heart.