It Feels Great to Be Targeted by the Instructor!

After the round-table meeting ended, the heavy obsidian doors slowly swung open.

Makley walked out of the meeting room, his steps somewhat heavy, lost in thought.

"Oh my, Mr. Kane."

A slightly sharp female voice came from the side.

There stood the female wizard Lavia, who had examined the corpse last time. She was waving an exquisite elven folding fan, looking at him with a half-smile:

"The new policy really does favor someone like you, who's so 'skilled at cultivating students.'"

She deliberately emphasized the word "skilled," the sarcasm in her tone unmistakable.

The male wizard beside her, Bolton, immediately chimed in with a laugh, pushing up his gold-rimmed glasses:

"Lavia, aren't you just teasing our esteemed Lord Makley here?"

"Everyone knows that over the years, Lord Makley has cultivated five outstanding students."

"It's just that... four of them went and pledged themselves to other masters."

"Now there's only Violet Star left."

Hearing this, the other wizards who hadn't yet left the vicinity couldn't help but chuckle quietly.

The laughter was filled with schadenfreude and contempt.

Although Makley was a full-fledged seventh-circle wizard, not low in rank at all, everyone knew his power came from a ritual—his father had forcibly infused his knowledge and magic into him on his deathbed.

This had catapulted him from a fifth-circle apprentice to his current level, but it had also permanently sealed his ceiling.

For the rest of his life, he could only ever be a seventh-circle wizard, with no hope of further advancement.

That was why, even in this brutal storm of reform, despite being a direct member of the Kane Family, others dared to treat him like a soft target.

Listening to these grating laughs, a flicker of coldness passed through Makley's eyes, and his hand clenched into a tight fist inside his sleeve.

But he was helpless.

Lavia and Bolton were the mainstays of the Cain Wizard Tower's research faction now; the core achievements of the last two years both bore their names.

That was their leverage.

As the wizards drifted away in twos and threes, the grand wizard Moke, still in the meeting room, suddenly spoke:

"Makley, wait a moment."

Makley took a deep breath, composed himself, and turned back to the meeting room respectfully.

Only the two of them remained beside the massive round table.

Moke looked at this great-grandson of his, who had never wanted to be a wizard since childhood, only ever wanting to be a painter. A complex sigh flickered in his eyes:

"The situation in the tower isn't what it used to be."

"There are no spare resources left in the tower to keep supporting a freeloader who produces nothing."

The old man's voice was low and commanding:

"I advise you to give up on your own initiative."

"If you step down now, you can still get a cushy post in the logistics department and live out your days in peace."

"Otherwise, when you're eventually forced out, you'll tarnish the family's honor."

Makley raised his head, meeting the gaze of this grand wizard who held the power of life and death.

For the first time, there was no trace of his usual cowering or avoidance in his eyes.

"Great-grandfather."

Makley spoke respectfully, but his tone was unusually firm:

"The more dangerous this moment is, the less I want to give up."

"I've already enjoyed too much glory and protection from the family. I can't just run away like a coward when the wizard tower is in trouble."

"My ability and talent truly aren't enough, but I believe... I'm good at discovering talent."

Moke was slightly taken aback, as if he hadn't expected this usually weak-willed great-grandson to say such a thing.

He was silent for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on the dragon-bone table.

"Fine."

"Since you have this resolve, I'll give you one chance."

"By the time of next month's settlement, you must have at least one sufficiently outstanding talent pass the comprehensive assessment."

"If you can't manage that, don't blame me for showing no mercy."

Makley bowed deeply:

"Understood."

After coming out of the top-floor meeting room, Makley spotted a male and a female wizard at the corner of the corridor.

These two looked to be around forty years old, wearing sharp, form-fitting wizard robes without hats, giving off a crisp and professional air.

The taller male wizard was named Thane, somewhat balding, with skin pale as paper. His main specialty was spirit studies, and he was a fifth-rank formal wizard.

The female wizard beside him was slightly plump, with a thick braid tied up. Her name was Sara, specializing in alchemy, a fourth-rank formal wizard.

These two were the partners Makley had mentioned to Tylen earlier.

Makley forced a faint smile onto his face and stepped forward to greet them:

"Thane, Sara, what plans do you have next?"

However, the two exchanged a glance, a flicker of awkwardness and resolve flashing in their eyes.

Thane cut him off, speaking in a stiff tone:

"Makley, the severity of the situation has exceeded our expectations."

"As for our previous cooperation... let's put it on hold for now."

Sara nodded along beside him, not even meeting Makley's eyes:

"That's right, I'm going to be very busy from now on—preparing students for exams and starting new projects."

"I really don't have the time to help you anymore."

With that, the two hurriedly bowed as if fleeing from a plague, turned, and quickly walked away.

Makley stood there, watching their retreating figures, saying nothing.

He understood their meaning all too well.

When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter; when the wall crumbles, everyone pushes it down.

In this Wizard Tower where profit reigned supreme, no one was willing to waste their chips on a "waste" about to lose his standing.

Makley stared at the polished corridor floor, his expression unchanged.

He had been like this since childhood—rarely fighting for anything, rarely arguing when things happened.

Originally, his dream had been to become a painter close to nature, far from the world, lost in mountains and rivers.

But his father's dying obsession had forcibly tied him to this path called "wizard."

As he silently walked forward, he clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.

"I might be a waste..."

"But that doesn't mean my vision is wasted!"

"And it doesn't mean my students are wastes!"

Ten o'clock in the morning.

Makley gathered all the low-level apprentices currently under his name.

In the spacious, bright lecture hall, the apprentices—who had rarely seen each other before—sat nervously in their seats.

A total of 130 apprentices.

Among them were 50 first-year freshmen, 41 second-years, 22 third-years, 15 fourth-years, and only 2 fifth-years about to graduate.

Tylen sat casually in a chair, looking around.

"47 zero-rank apprentices, 32 first-rank apprentices, 18 second-rank apprentices, 16 third-rank apprentices, 15 fourth-rank apprentices, and 1 fifth-rank apprentice."

"Among them, of the 50 newcomers who enrolled half a year ago with me, only two—including myself—have become first-rank apprentices."

At this moment, the atmosphere in the classroom was sharply divided.

A large number of low-rank apprentices clustered around the sole fifth-rank apprentice like stars around the moon.

He was a young man of medium build, with blond hair parted in a 3:7 ratio, a hint of pride and smugness on his face: Thomas.

"Brother Thomas, do you know the scope of this exam?"

"Brother Thomas, which subject do you think suits me? I'm good at meditation and runes."

"Brother Thomas, what are our mentor's preferences?"

Faced with everyone's flattery, Thomas was clearly enjoying it.

He crossed his legs and spoke with ease:

"This exam is to deal with the new situation."

"As long as you stick with the right big brother and follow my lead, you'll definitely get a piece of the pie in the future."

"Those who pass the exam will become the teacher's right-hand men! Then I'll be able to give you a leg up too."

Hearing this, the faces of many zero-rank apprentices lit up with excitement, as if they could already see a bright future.

Meanwhile, the slightly more experienced first-rank apprentices looked thoughtful, a calculating gleam flickering in their eyes.

The reform had come too suddenly. Everyone wanted to seize this opportunity, yet they were like headless flies, not knowing where to start.

Just then.

The steady, forceful sound of leather shoes striking the floor echoed through the room.

The classroom fell silent instantly, and everyone immediately returned to their seats and sat down.

Makley pushed the door open, his black robe billowing behind him.

"Stand up!"

Thomas led the shout and bowed respectfully.

The others followed suit, rising and calling out in unison: "Greetings, Mentor!"

Makley grunted an "Mm" with a blank expression, walked to the front of the podium, and swept his gaze across the room.

"You should all know the news by now."

"This exam can change the course of your lives. I hope you choose your subjects carefully and only pick what you excel at."

"The written tests for different grades are separate."

"Thomas, Ike, Lisa."

Makley called out three names.

Aside from Thomas, the other two were standouts among the fourth-level apprentices.

"All of you have been in the Wizard Tower for four or five years. You know a lot, and your knowledge is solid."

"In the next few days, help your junior apprentices with their questions."

The three immediately stood up, faces full of pride and confidence, and answered loudly:

"Understood, Teacher!"

Makley nodded, then picked up a piece of chalk, turned around, and wrote lines of text on the blackboard.

"Now, I'll outline the possible scope of the upcoming exam."

Over the next hour.

The vast majority of students here received direct, close instruction from Makley, a seventh-level official wizard, for the first time.

Although this instruction was only about defining the exam scope and didn't touch on any profound magical principles.

For these low-level apprentices who usually had to study on their own, this was already an immense blessing.

Everyone frantically took notes, terrified of missing a single word.

An hour later.

Makley put down the chalk and dusted off his hands.

"Alright, that's it for today."

He still had to go teach the rich second-generation students who had paid high tuition fees—a mandatory task assigned to him by the Tower.

As soon as the mentor left, the classroom erupted into chaos.

The remaining apprentices swarmed around Thomas and the other senior apprentices, chattering endlessly, hoping to get more inside information.

Tylenzer calmly left and continued his own cultivation.

7:00 PM.

The morgue.

Flap, flap, flap...

The familiar sound of crow wings beating came from the window.

Tylenzer, sitting at the table studying runes, curled the corners of his mouth slightly and thought to himself.

"Being under the mentor's special care—it feels way too secure!"