After eating the White Dew Peach, Locke returned to his dormitory and slept in his bedroom for three straight days. When he woke, he discovered that three days had passed.
The thought of the points he might lose made his expression change.
But when he opened his Lingzhi Magic Plant, he found that Celt, his direct supervisor, had used his authority to mark him present.
It was a little against the rules, and Celt had told him not to mention it to anyone.
Locke breathed a sigh of relief. He might not need to worry about being eliminated over points, but he still had to worry about losing the Jadewater Peach that should have been his.
Now that concern was gone.
Locke got up, washed, and went to the living room.
He checked the time on the standard alchemical clock made by alchemy apprentices—standard Academy furniture—and found that it was already noon.
He had slept for three days and three nights.
"Using the Queen's Chessboard must consume more than Magic Pressure. If that were all, after replenishing it several times, one night's rest should have been enough for me to recover," Locke said thoughtfully.
Entering the Queen's Chessboard carried risks of its own.
But what wizard could avoid all risk?
All things strove to rise. Only by climbing ever higher could he become a High-Ring Wizard and pursue the Path of Truth.
At least the rewards had been substantial.
Two Wood Elf maids hurried to bring Locke breakfast. Meanwhile, a Dark Elf servant reported that several wizards had sent letters while he was asleep.
Locke held three letters in his hand. He had only slept for three days, yet so many people had written to him.
The first was from the White Wizard Association's Funding Management Division. They had approved