The night was deep.
The three Weavers permanently stationed at the High Tower Institute had gathered together for once.
Chief researcher Olivia.
Security adviser Maguire.
The current director, Charles.
These three figures, who stood at the pinnacle of Spellcasters in both power and influence, had already been arguing over Rosha for quite some time.
"String Sorcery Fruit-the tree of myriad phenomena?"
Maguire was tall and powerfully built, with thick hair and a full beard. He looked to be around sixty, his expression stern and cold, his words carrying a biting chill.
"Something like that should never have appeared in the Spellcaster World. Leave it unchecked, and sooner or later it will overturn the order of Vysseran. That Rosha is a menace!"
Maguire stared at Olivia and Charles, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. "Hand the boy over to me. I'll squeeze every last secret out of him."
Olivia's brows knitted tightly. "Don't forget that Rosha is a student of the High Tower Institute. That isn't something you, a mere adviser, should be saying."
"And what of it?" Maguire's expression remained indifferent. "I've lived too long. I've seen off generation after generation of students. Even I can't remember how many there were-"
"That Rosha is far too abnormal. Knowing there's something strange about him and choosing to ignore it-that would be truly irresponsible toward the High Tower Institute."
Olivia couldn't be bothered to argue with him. She turned her gaze. "Charles, what do you think?"
The man who publicly held the highest position in the High Tower Institute looked rather unkempt, his hair hanging loose. He wore an old gray robe with traces of grease still on it. Now he spoke. "Maguire, you're being too extreme."
He shook his head, his voice calm. "This is the High Tower Institute. An academy.