Work-Study Balance, A Dilemma Resolved

The morning sunlight pierced through the spires of the wizard tower, scattering sparsely across the spacious and bright central plaza of Cain Wizard Tower.

The murmurs of several hundred people converged into a noisy wave of sound, echoing through the plaza.

"Damn it, why do we have to take exams and compete again?"

A gaunt, hollow-eyed apprentice stared at the notice on the wall and couldn't help complaining:

"Cleaning alchemy flasks carefully every day is already driving me crazy. Are they trying to squeeze out the last bit of our sleep time too?"

The friend standing beside him, a chubby apprentice, sighed helplessly and patted his shoulder:

"Be grateful, buddy. You're just responsible for cleaning alchemy tools; at worst, your hands hurt."

"You have no idea how tough things have been for us in the morgue lately."

Hearing the word "morgue," several nearby apprentices immediately cast sympathetic glances his way.

The chubby apprentice wore a constipated expression and said indignantly:

"About a week ago, the mentors above went crazy for some reason and suddenly increased the requirements!"

"Before, as long as those disposable experimental corpses were delivered intact, that was fine."

"Now? Not only do they have to be clean and tidy, but the wounds have to be stitched up, and they even want us to dress the corpses in decent clothes!"

An apprentice across from him was clearly also a victim. Hearing this, he erupted in fury, waving his fist and cursing:

"Don't let me find out who started this damn trend! Cursed bastard!"

Standing at the edge of the crowd, Tylen heard these complaints full of resentment and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

He rubbed his nose awkwardly and silently whistled in his mind.

"Ahem... can't blame me for this. Those mentors' competitive streak is what screwed you over."

After muttering to himself, he looked up, his gaze passing over the bobbing heads and landing on the huge parchment notice on the wall.

This commotion was indeed no small matter.

The notice was written in red ink: <The First Cain Wizard Tower Outstanding Apprentice Selection Competition>.

The scope of the exam covered all eight major subjects in the apprentice stage: Mental Power, Meditation, Alchemy, Ritual Studies, Runes, Minerals, Languages, and Magical Creatures.

These eight major subjects were further divided into sixteen specific competition events, including both written theory and hands-on practice.

The rules were clearly written:

All registered wizard apprentices could voluntarily sign up.

Each person had to choose at least one subject and at most four.

After all exams were completed, the top twenty apprentices in each individual subject's rankings would not only receive corresponding precious magic books as rewards, but more importantly!

Their status would be directly promoted from "probationary apprentice" to "formal apprentice."

What did this mean?

It meant that from then on, they would completely say goodbye to those undignified chores like washing flasks, moving corpses, and unclogging drains.

They would only need to handle the professional tasks assigned by their own mentors and would be qualified to audit public lectures by formal wizards, truly stepping into the hall of magic.

Of course, rights and obligations were always equal.

The last line of the notice was written in bold black font:

[Formal apprentices must bear more responsibilities, including but not limited to assisting mentors in research projects, participating in alchemy experiments, and carrying out field collection and hunting missions.]

Seeing this content, a glint of wisdom flashed in Tylen's black eyes.

His brain worked rapidly, piecing together the fragments of information he had gathered over the past few days.

"Work while learning, both difficulties resolve themselves."

Tylen silently defined this reform in his heart.

"It seems the news Ars gave me was true."

"Blazing Sun Wizard Tower succeeded in advancing to the provincial level. That's not just a blow to reputation, but a real squeeze on resources. It's greatly stimulated the higher-ups at Cain Wizard Tower."

"They've finally realized that relying on those noble young masters who only know how to gild themselves won't support the wizard tower's future."

"On ordinary days, those noble brats' success rate is too low, and it's already seriously affected the wizard tower's rating and competitiveness within the alliance."

Tylen saw through it clearly.

He could see the policy was working.

The gradually kindled desire and ambition in the eyes of the surrounding apprentices.

For people like them without connections, even if they knew a cliff lay ahead, as long as a spirit herb that could change their fate grew at its edge, they would jump without hesitation.

"Assisting mentors in carrying out missions..."

Tylen stared at the last line of text, a knowing sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

"This means the entire wizard tower's finances are probably in crisis, forcing these lofty official wizards to go out and earn money."

Within the Divine Eagle Empire, a wizard tower's main sources of income came from only five aspects: direct allocations from the Imperial Wizard Alliance, steep tuition fees from apprentices, direct sales of magical products, accepting commissions and completing missions for payment, and political donations from nobles and wealthy merchants.

Now that the Blazing Sun Tower had risen, it would inevitably siphon off a large number of students and orders, and even noble donations would shift direction.

For Cain Tower to survive, it had to "open up new revenue streams."

"But this is a good thing for me."

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

"Chaos is a ladder."

Meanwhile.

At the very top of Cain Wizard Tower, above the clouds.

Here, far removed from the noise and gloom of the lower levels, was a round-table meeting hall filled with a sense of magic and epic grandeur.

The surrounding walls were built from whole blocks of obsidian, sharp and angular, radiating a cold magical luster.

Dozens of narrow, willow-leaf-shaped windows encircled the room, each embedded with intricate stained glass depicting magnificent scenes of ancient wizards conquering planes.

Sunlight streamed through these windows, casting mottled and sacred patterns of light and shadow on the floor.

In the center of the hall sat a massive round table, polished from an entire dragon's spine.

At this moment, thirty-one men and women of varied attire sat around the table.

Their appearances ranged from seeming thirty to seventy years old, but every pair of eyes held the vicissitudes and wisdom of age.

These were the core strength of Cain Wizard Tower: the official wizards.

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

The robe was embroidered with fine runes in gold thread, and with each breath he took, those runes seemed to writhe faintly like living things.

He had meticulously combed gray-white hair, a long beard that hung naturally, and a face etched with knife-like wrinkles.

Though he appeared only about sixty years old, his eyes, deep as a starry sky, revealed an indifference born of countless cycles of life and death.

Mork Taus Salk Cain.

Three hundred and twelve years old this year.

A third-rank grand wizard.

The current master of Cain Wizard Tower.

Fifty years ago, before taking over this tower, he had been active on the brutal Astral Battlefield, a blood-soaked wizard who had truly fought his way out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

At this moment, the atmosphere in the meeting hall was suffocatingly oppressive.

Mork slowly raised his withered hand.

Deep blue mana, thick as liquid, churned and surged before him, then coalesced in the center of the round table into glowing text and charts.

The financial statements and talent summaries of the wizard tower for the past decade.

A glaring sea of red deficits.

"Take a look."

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

"This is the report you've handed me."

He swept his gaze around the room, and wherever his eyes fell, those usually proud official wizards lowered their heads one after another.

"In recent decades, Cain Wizard Tower has been too comfortable, too lax."

"We've almost turned into a diploma mill for those bloated nobles and wealthy merchants to gild their pig-brained children!"

Mork's words were merciless, like slaps landing on everyone's faces.

"This promotion of the Blazing Sun Wizard Tower is a wake-up call for you!"

"If you continue to wallow in this kind of extravagant, lazy false prosperity..."

Mork slammed the table, and the deep blue mana instantly exploded, splitting into countless tiny bolts of lightning.

"By the time the next plane war conscription order comes down, you'll quickly become cannon fodder on the Astral Battlefield."

Hearing this, everyone's hearts tightened, and a cold sweat broke out on their backs.

They knew the tower master wasn't exaggerating.

If the wizard tower failed its rating and was disbanded, none of them could escape this year's conscription order.

The cruelty of the Astral Battlefield far exceeded ordinary imagination.

Mork took a deep breath, reining in his anger, and raised three fingers.

"Your next tasks are three."

"First."

"Go out and dig up talent! Whether they're nobles, commoners, or even beggars—if they have aptitude, if they have brains, find them for me!"

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

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

"Second."

"Everyone's mission frequency must increase by at least three times!"

"Stop holing up in the tower all day doing impractical theoretical research. Go take missions, go build real interest-based alliances with the big shots in the city!"

"Look at Lion City now—without us even noticing, 60% of the bigwigs who control the mines and shipping lanes have already become honored guests of the Blazing Sun Wizard Tower."

"Third."

"Increase the frequency of hunting magical beasts outside."

"The tower's current reserves of magic crystals and high-tier beast corpse materials are critically low."

"If you still want to maintain the dignity of full-fledged wizards and continue your experiments, then obediently get out of the city and work!"

After saying these three points, Moke leaned back into his chair, his gaze icy as he stared at the crowd:

"Who agrees? Who opposes?"

Around the round table, there was dead silence.

A moment later, all the wizards stood up in unison, placed their right hands over their chests, and bowed respectfully:

"We obey the Tower Lord's decree."

In their hearts, they all knew—the good times were over.

The era of lying back and making money by handing out degrees to rich second-generation brats was gone for good.

After all, you couldn't expect those rich kids who came just to gild their resumes to contribute anything to the wizard tower.