Makley's Intentions, Entering the City to Collect Corpses

The classroom fell silent once more.

The fresh, pleasant perfume gradually faded, leaving only ambergris and the faint scent of corpse preservative in the air.

Tylen packed up his things methodically, only walking slowly over to Makley after the last student had left.

He said nothing, merely bowed deeply.

The gesture was executed with impeccable precision. His back remained straight, his head lowered. It conveyed both absolute obedience to a superior and the unique piety of one seeking the path.

"How much did you understand?"

Makley was organizing his lesson materials and asked without looking up.

Though his tone remained calm, Tylen keenly caught the faint trace of anticipation within it.

"Professor, I understood almost all of it."

Tylen straightened up, his eyes shining with the excitement of someone who had found a kindred spirit.

"Especially your explanation of the resonance between 'spiritual residue' and 'Mana frequency.' It was simply... simply like a key that instantly opened the rusty door in my mind!"

He took a deep breath, his speech quickening slightly with excitement.

"When I read Soul Primer before, it only said to 'sense the resentment of the deceased.' That description was far too vague."

"I tried many times, but apart from leaving myself mentally dazed, I gained nothing."

"But after seeing your demonstration just now, I finally understood. So-called 'resentment' is actually a specific spiritual wavelength!"

"Your 'three shallow, one deep' pulsed injection method is like striking a tuning fork at a specific frequency to create resonance!"

"And the treatment of the bone joints!" Tylen became more animated as he spoke, even gesturing unconsciously.

"The book only says to reinforce them, but it never mentions leaving Mana-conducting material behind."

"I always thought tying them tightly enough would do. Looking back, that was utterly foolish!"

"Without conductive material, Mana forms vortices at the joints and hinders movement!"

Makley finally stopped what he was doing.

He turned around and examined the apprentice before him with entirely new eyes.

Surprise.

Perhaps even a trace of shock.

As an experienced instructor, he knew only too well how difficult these concepts were to grasp.

Those pampered young noblemen had seemed attentive on the surface, but he would wager that no more than five of them truly understood the principle of "frequency resonance."

Yet Tylen, a commoner who had not even received a complete basic education, had managed to grasp the core logic so precisely on his very first hearing.

This boy's comprehension...

Makley was secretly alarmed.

In this wizarding world, where bloodlines and resources were valued above all else, people often overlooked another kind of talent—logical thinking.

And Tylen's ability to turn abstract magical concepts into concrete, logical ideas was precisely the rarest quality needed to become a high-level research Wizard!

Makley's gaze flickered slightly.

The situation within the tower had not been peaceful lately.

The old tower master was advanced in age, and several vice tower masters were fighting fiercely over the right of succession.

As a member of the middle faction, Makley was safe for the time being, but he could feel the pressure mounting.

What happened that morning had been a warning.

He needed helpers.

Those noble students might have abundant resources, but they all had family powers behind them. They could never truly be loyal to him.

But Tylen...

His background was spotless, he had no connections, he stood at the absolute bottom, and he faced an enormous crisis of survival.

Someone like that could become the most loyal hunting hound with only a little incentive.

"Not bad."

Makley nodded, and a trace of warmth entered his voice.

"You understand it very well. It seems you really put in the effort."

He neither promised anything directly nor took him in as a disciple on the spot.

To those in power, things given too easily were often not cherished.

"I'll keep these three corpses. These two were handled well, so I'll count them as double hours."

"Thank you, Professor! Thank you for your generosity!"

Tylen bowed deeply again, his face full of overwhelming gratitude.

Yet beneath his lowered gaze lay calm, crystal-clear composure.

He knew the seed had been planted.

Now, he only needed to wait for it to sprout.

After coming down from the seventeenth floor, Tylen pulled his little cart loaded with boxes through the maze-like corridors and arrived at the large classroom on the west side of the first floor.

This was the world of lower-class apprentices.

As he pushed open the heavy oak doors, a wave of heat hit him, carrying a mixture of sweat, foot odor, cheap tobacco, and the strange smells of various alchemical materials.

More than three hundred people were packed into the enormous tiered lecture hall.

Most wore coarse linen robes washed until they had faded white. Some even wore patched hemp clothing.

Every face was marked by exhaustion and anxiety, traces left by long-term malnutrition and constant mental strain.

Tylen found a corner near the back, left the cart outside the door, and walked in.

On the podium, a young man in a gray mage robe was teaching.

He was a level-seven apprentice named Ron, a teaching assistant responsible for filling in for lower-grade apprentice classes.

"...Regarding the condensation of Mental Power, everyone should pay attention to the phrase 'a heart still as water' mentioned in Chapter Three, Section Two of the Meditation Atlas. It means eliminating distracting thoughts..."

Ron's voice was dry and flat, like someone chanting scripture.

He mechanically read from the book, occasionally drawing a few crooked runes on the blackboard, while completely ignoring the drowsy students below.

Sitting on the hard wooden bench and listening to the hypnotic lecture, Tylen could not help feeling a bitter, mocking irony rise in his heart.

So this is the gap.

Just two hours ago, he had been in that advanced classroom filled with ambergris, listening to an Official Wizard explain the essence of magic in clear, accessible terms and watching precise, flawless practical demonstrations.

And now, hundreds of people were crammed together here, listening to a teaching assistant who was not even an Official Wizard repeat the obscure, lifeless words written in a textbook.

No demonstrations, no interaction, no core techniques.

No matter how many times one attended this sort of class, one could never truly learn magic.

"Those ancient people were right. It is hard to return to frugality after luxury."

Tylen sighed, suppressing the urge to leave and forcing himself to sit upright.

The material might be garbage, but it was still a required class, and attendance was recorded.

In this rigidly hierarchical system, he did not yet have the right to skip class.

After enduring two long hours, the dismissal bell finally rang when the clock hand reached noon.

Tylen followed the crowded stream of people out of the classroom and saw a familiar figure at the entrance.

Old Jack.

The man in his fifties wore a faded old vest and clutched a battered felt hat in his hands as he stood there awkwardly.

His face was deeply lined, his eyes cloudy, and his back bent like a bow warped by the weight of life.

When he saw Tylen come out, a glimmer of light appeared in Old Jack's murky eyes, and he hurried over.

"Little Ma... um..."

His voice carried both urgency and a desire to please.

"Mm, I just got out of class."

Tylen nodded without putting on airs.

"Let's go. We'll get something to eat first, then go pick up your... wife."

At the word "wife," Old Jack's eyes instantly reddened. His lips trembled a few times, but in the end, he only nodded heavily.

The two hurriedly swallowed a few mouthfuls of oatmeal porridge that looked like paste in the cafeteria. Then Tylen pulled the flatbed carriage used specifically for transporting corpses, taking Old Jack with him as they left the Wizard Tower.

Once they passed through the gloomy gates of the tower district, the view before them suddenly opened up.

Cain Wizard Tower stood north of Lion City, separated from it by the broad Heavenly Luck River.

It was noon. Sunlight dispersed the morning mist, slowly unfolding a painting full of medieval fantasy.

Ships of all sizes flowed endlessly along the hundred-meter-wide Heavenly Luck River.

Three-masted merchant vessels with enormous sails, laden with spices and silk from the south, slowly entered the harbor.

Small Mana-powered speedboats also raced over the water, blue flames spraying from their sterns and carving white wakes behind them.

And there were even more simple covered boats, their bare-chested boatmen shouting work chants as they struggled to row heavy oars.

Across the river lay Lion City.

It was an extraordinarily magnificent city.

Thirty-meter-high grayish-white walls wound like a giant dragon, their surface covered in marks left by time and the Glimmer of defensive arrays.

Within the walls, countless spired buildings rose from the ground.

Naturally, the tallest was the Holy Light Cathedral in the city center. Its immense white dome gleamed beneath the sun, while the cross at its peak seemed ready to pierce the heavens.

Around the cathedral stood the lord's castle, noble estates, merchant guild towers, and densely packed commoner homes.

Tylen drove the carriage across the stone bridge connecting the two shores.

The bridge bustled with people.

Farmers drove ox carts piled high with pumpkins and cabbages, shouting loudly for people to make way.

Mercenaries clad in leather armor and carrying longswords at their waists gathered in small groups, discussing recent jobs and romantic escapades in taverns.

Low-level Wizards in silk robes, wands in hand, hurried through the crowd, while nearby commoners stepped aside in awe.

From time to time, a fully armed squad of knights thundered across the bridge on tall warhorses clad in iron armor, kicking up clouds of dust.

This was the true face of the world.

Prosperity and backwardness coexisted. Magic intertwined with cold weapons. Ignorance tangled with knowledge. Divine authority and royal authority struggled against each other.

And everything rested upon a rigid hierarchy.

Tylen watched it all without much emotion.

In his previous life, he had grown accustomed to jungles of steel and concrete and neon-lit nights. Though the sight before him was spectacular, it felt more like a backward version of something familiar.

"Little Ma."

Old Jack's voice interrupted his thoughts.

The carriage passed through the bustling commercial district and turned into a narrow, dark street.

The air here was filled with a sour stench blending coal smoke, spoiled food, and clothes that had remained damp for too long.

The houses on both sides became low and dilapidated, their peeling walls exposing blackened brick beneath.

The street was so narrow that a single carriage could barely pass through, and its uneven ground was filled with stagnant filthy water.

Old Mine Street.

One of Lion City's oldest and poorest districts.

Most of its residents were miners, laborers, prostitutes, and thieves.

It was also the place Tylen visited most often.

Because it had the most deaths and the cheapest corpses.

Tylen was somewhat startled. "I remember you used to live on Caltrop Street, didn't you?"

Old Jack bit his lip. "Sold it... to pay debts."

"It's up ahead... the one on the left..."

His rough, cracked finger pointed toward a wooden house that looked ready to collapse. His voice began to choke, and tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.

His son was gone. His home was gone. His wife was gone too.

The once bright, orderly little courtyard had become someone else's home.

The love of his life had ultimately died in this decrepit wooden shack...

The root of it all was the Wizard Tower's terrifying exploitation.

Tylen reined in the horse and looked at the ruined wooden door, his gaze calm.

As a Corpse Collector, he had seen far too many scenes like this.

Grief was cheap here.

Only survival was expensive.

"Let's go."

Tylen jumped down from the carriage, adjusted his apprentice robe, and headed for the door first.

"Let's see her off on her final journey."