Work and Study Together, Solving Both Dilemmas

Morning sunlight pierced the spire of the Wizard Tower, scattering in sparse patches across the spacious, brightly lit central plaza of Cain Wizard Tower.

The chatter of hundreds of people swelled into a noisy roar that echoed above the plaza.

"Damn it, why are they holding another exam competition?"

A gaunt apprentice with sunken eyes stared at the notice on the wall and couldn't help complaining:

"I'm already going crazy from carefully washing alchemy flasks every day. Do they want to squeeze out the last bit of time we have to sleep, too?"

The friend beside him, a chubby apprentice, sighed helplessly and patted him on the shoulder:

"Be grateful, buddy. You're only responsible for washing alchemical equipment. At worst, your hands get sore."

"You have no idea how miserable things have been for us over at the Morgue lately."

At the word "Morgue," several nearby apprentices gave him sympathetic looks.

The chubby apprentice wore an expression of utter misery as he grumbled indignantly:

"About a week ago, the mentors upstairs suddenly started making more demands. Who knows what got into them!"

"Before, all we had to do was deliver the disposable experimental corpses intact."

"And now? They want them clean and tidy, with their wounds stitched up, and even dressed in respectable clothes!"

An apprentice across from him was clearly another victim. At those words, he flew into a rage, shaking his fist as he cursed:

"Let me find out who started this crooked trend! Damn them!"

Tylen, standing at the edge of the crowd, heard all the resentful complaints and twitched the corner of his mouth.

Awkwardly, he rubbed his nose and silently whistled to himself.

"Ahem... You can't blame me for this. The mentors' competitiveness is what got you into trouble."

After a brief complaint,

he raised his head and looked past the bobbing heads at the huge parchment notice on the wall.

This time, the commotion really was considerable.

Written on the notice in bright red ink were the words: <First Cain Wizard Tower Outstanding Apprentice Selection Contest>.

The exam covered all eight core subjects studied at the apprentice level: Mental Power, meditation, alchemy, Ritual Studies, runes, minerals, languages, and magical creatures.

These eight major subjects had been divided into sixteen specific events, comprising both written theory tests and practical exercises.

The rules were clearly stated:

Any registered wizard apprentice could sign up.

Each person had to choose at least one subject and no more than four.

Once all the exams were over, the top twenty apprentices in each individual subject would not only receive precious magic books as rewards, but, more importantly,

their status would be upgraded directly from "trainee apprentice" to "Official Wizard."

What did that mean?

It meant they could finally say goodbye to degrading odd jobs like washing flasks, hauling corpses, and clearing out sewers.

They would only have to handle the specialized tasks assigned by their mentors, and would be eligible to sit in on Official Wizards' public lectures, truly stepping into the halls of magic.

Of course, rights and responsibilities always went hand in hand.

The final line of the notice was written in bold black letters:

[Official apprentices are expected to take on greater responsibilities, including but not limited to assisting mentors with research projects, taking part in alchemy experiments, and carrying out field-gathering and hunting missions.]

As he read this, a glint of insight flashed in Tylen's dark eyes.

His mind worked at lightning speed, piecing together the fragments of information he had gathered over the past few days.

"Work and study together, solving both dilemmas."

Tylen silently summed up the reform.

"Looks like the information Ars gave me was true."

"The Blazing Sun Wizard Tower's successful promotion to a provincial-level tower isn't just a blow to our reputation. It's putting real pressure on our interests. That's pushed Cain Wizard Tower's higher-ups to act."

"They've finally realized that the tower's future can't be carried by a bunch of noble brats who only know how to buy credentials."

"The success rate of those noble offspring has always been too low, and it's seriously hurt the tower's ranking and competitiveness within the Alliance."

Tylen saw the situation clearly.

He could tell the policy was working.

The desire and ambition in the surrounding apprentices' eyes were gradually catching fire.

For people without connections like them, even if they knew a cliff lay ahead, as long as life-changing herbs grew at its edge, they would leap over without hesitation.

"Assisting mentors with missions..."

Tylen stared at the final line, the corner of his mouth curling into a knowing, cold smile.

"That means the entire Wizard Tower must be facing a financial crisis. They need these lofty Official Wizards to go out and earn money."

The Wizard Towers within the Divine Eagle Empire had only five main sources of income:

Direct funding from the Empire's Wizard Alliance, the apprentices' hefty tuition fees, direct sales of magical products, commissions earned from taking on jobs, and political donations from nobles and wealthy merchants.

Now that the Blazing Sun Tower was rising, it would inevitably draw away many students and orders. Even donations from the nobility would likely shift in its direction.

If Cain Tower wanted to survive, it had to "increase its revenue."

"Still, this is good for me."

Tylen clenched the fist hidden in his sleeve, feeling the knowledge in his mind.

"Chaos is a ladder."

At the same time.

On the highest floor of Cain Wizard Tower, above the clouds,

was a round-table conference hall that exuded magic and grandeur, a stark contrast to the noise and gloom below.

The walls were built from massive blocks of black obsidian, their sharp, defined edges gleaming with a cold magical light.

Dozens of narrow, willow-leaf windows lined the walls. Each was fitted with elaborate stained glass depicting ancient wizards conquering planes.

Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting colorful, sacred patterns across the floor.

At the center of the hall stood a massive round table, crafted from an entire dragon's spine.

At that moment, thirty-one men and women in various styles of clothing sat around it.

They looked to be anywhere from thirty to seventy years old, yet the eyes of every one of them held the weight and wisdom of the years.

These were the core forces of Cain Wizard Tower: the Official Wizards.

Seated at the head of the table was an old man in a deep purple robe.

Fine runes embroidered across it in gold thread seemed to stir like living things with each breath he took.

His white-and-gray hair was meticulously combed, his long beard hung naturally, and his face was covered in wrinkles like chiseled lines.

Though he looked only about sixty, his eyes, deep as the starry sky, held the detachment of someone who had lived through countless cycles of life and death.

Mork Taus Salk Cain.

He was already three hundred and twelve years old.

A Level Three Grand Wizard.

The current tower master of Cain Wizard Tower.

For fifty years, before taking charge of this tower, he had been active on the brutal Astral Battlefield, a hardened wizard who had truly fought his way out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.

At that moment, the atmosphere in the conference hall was stifling.

Mork slowly raised his withered hand.

Deep blue Mana, thick as liquid, churned before him before condensing into vast quantities of glowing words and charts at the center of the round table.

They were the Wizard Tower's financial statements and talent figures for the past decade.

A glaring sea of red ink.

"Take a look."

Mork's voice was low and hoarse, like two rough stones grinding together, and echoed in the depths of everyone's soul.

"This is what you've given me."

He looked around. Wherever his gaze fell, the usually arrogant Official Wizards lowered their heads.

"For the past few decades, life at Cain Wizard Tower has been far too comfortable, far too lax."

"We're on the verge of becoming a third-rate tower, a place where those fatheaded nobles and merchants send their stupid, pig-brained children to buy credentials!"

Mork's words spared no one, striking the faces of those present like a series of slaps.

"The Blazing Sun Wizard Tower's promotion should have sounded the alarm!"

"If you keep sinking into this false prosperity of luxury and idleness..."

Mork slammed his hand on the table. The deep blue Mana exploded instantly, scattering into countless tiny bolts of lightning.

"When the next Plane War conscription order arrives, you'll soon find yourselves cannon fodder on the Astral Battlefield."

At those words, everyone shuddered, a cold sweat breaking out across their backs.

They knew the tower master wasn't exaggerating.

If the Wizard Tower failed its evaluation and was disbanded, none of them would escape this year's conscription order.

The Astral Battlefield was far more brutal than most people could imagine.

Mork took a deep breath, reined in his anger, and raised three fingers:

"You have three tasks ahead of you."

"First."

"Go find talent! I don't care if they're nobles, commoners, or even beggars! If they have talent and brains, find them!"

"I want the Alliance to know that Cain Wizard Tower still has the dignity of wizards—and fresh blood!"

"Starting next month, each of your resource quotas will be directly tied to how many outstanding apprentices you've trained!"

"Second."

"Everyone must go out on missions at least three times as often!"

"Stop holing up in the tower all day, working on impractical theoretical research. Take on missions and build real ties of mutual interest with the influential people in the city!"

"Look at Lion City today. Without anyone noticing, 60% of the influential figures who control the mines and trade routes have become guests of the Blazing Sun Wizard Tower."

"Third."

"Go out and hunt magical beasts more often."

"The tower's stock of magic crystals and materials from high-level magical beasts is already critically low."

"If you still want to maintain the dignity of an Official Wizard and keep running your experiments, then get out of the city and do some work!"

After laying out these three points, Mork leaned back in his chair and fixed the crowd with a cold stare:

"Who's in favor? Who's opposed?"

Silence fell over the round table.

A moment later, every wizard rose in unison, placed his right hand over his chest, and bowed respectfully:

"We shall obey the tower master's will."

They all knew their good days were over.

The era when they could make easy money just by handing out qualifications to rich young heirs was gone for good.

After all, they couldn't expect those rich kids who came to buy credentials to contribute anything to the Wizard Tower.