Medivh's Disciple? I Refuse!

Stormwind's warriors were still brave, still fighting through bloodshed, yet Duke's inadequate support had left them in a position where they could only take a beating.

Three entire mage corps had no idea what they were doing.

Not only did their comrades in the scenario cast puzzled and furious looks their way, even the mages watching from outside sighed.

They were disappointed.

Duke's miraculous aura seemed to vanish in an instant.

Old Norton muttered as if to himself, "As expected, no matter how gifted one is, talent cannot make up for a lack of experience."

Yet at that moment, a faint smile curled Duke's lips.

"I suddenly feel like I'm a terrible person."

That was right! Waiting until his opponent was about to savor the joy of victory, then kicking them from the happy clouds of triumphant hope into a bottomless abyss of despair.

That wicked thrill—let alone for the first time, even if he did it countless times, Duke would still find it immensely satisfying!

He had no idea how many spectators outside would drop their glasses in shock.

He only knew that his Frostbolt had appeared exactly where it needed to be on the battlefield.

Because they had grown reckless, because they believed Stormwind's mages were weak, the Horde's overall formation had unknowingly pushed far forward. Chieftain Blackhand brandished his battle-axe and slaughtered his way across the front lines. With every sweeping strike, multiple Stormwind warriors died, their corpses strewn across the ground.

As a result, the shamans healing the chieftain's wounds and restoring his health had also unknowingly moved close to the front lines.

Even though the shaman corps commander had carefully calculated the range of Duke's mage corps, that had been the range of ordinary mages, not Duke.

This was a trial, but it was also a game. Since the mage corps' range was defined as equal to Duke's range, however far Duke could attack, the mages in his corps could attack just as far.

Metamagic specialty [Ice Trail] activated!

At the same time, Duke activated [Spell Extension], a metamagic specialty similar to the in-game mage talent [Extreme Cold Extension], which he had the system spirit help adjust. Naturally, its effect could not compare to a dedicated talent.

However, with the support of an enhancement array specifically designed for warfare, even the tiniest personal boost for a mage would be amplified severalfold.

The Stormwind warriors and Horde fighters, who had been desperately fighting amid despair, stopped at the same time.

They saw a cluster of snow-white radiance, like falling meteors, pierce the heavens and streak over the battlefield before landing with perfect accuracy amid the Horde priest corps.

The chief priest of the corps had a massive hole blasted straight through his chest by Duke's attack. In the next instant, that shocking bloody cavity was sealed by ice. Without even a chance to cast [Heal], the chief priest died on the spot!

Following close behind Duke's strike, even more icy "meteors" tore through the void and fell upon the shaman priest corps.

Amid a long, continuous string of sounds like shattering glass, it seemed as though a rain of flawless white crystals had fallen over the shamans' heads. Countless bone-chilling ice crystal fragments poured down like a raging storm, forcibly laying a layer of frost across the grasslands.

The pure ice rain was stained crimson with blood, becoming incomparably bewitching!

An entire fully organized Horde shaman priest corps was wiped out!

Before the Horde could react, the second wave of attacks arrived.

A mere five seconds later, the only remaining Horde shaman priest corps was annihilated as well.

At that moment, the entire Horde legion lost its healing. None of their injuries could be treated, while Stormwind's side, though slightly fewer in number, was full of seemingly unkillable cockroaches. Unless they lost arms or legs, even wounds as wide as a fist could quickly heal under a priest's treatment.

The scales of war, which had already tilted toward the Horde, were instantly pulled back.

Only then did even the dullest mages watching outside understand: Duke had not reclaimed the advantage through a counterattack. This had been a premeditated plan to lure the enemy in deep and kill them in one blow.

"Hiss—" The mages sucked in a breath again.

A monster! An absolute monster!

Not only was his magical talent astonishingly high, but his instinct for warfare was just as sharp.

The greatest difference between Stormwind's mages and Dalaran's mages was that Stormwind's mages served the royal family and served warfare.

Although the Stormwind Kingdom had not experienced a large-scale war in the past several centuries, how to coordinate mage corps with conventional warriors had always been a key subject of study at the Royal Academy of Magic.

Duke's performance seemed to open a new window for these rigid-minded old mages. For a time, the observation room fell completely silent.

Over there, the trial ended. Having lost priest support, Chieftain Blackhand became a trapped beast, and the result was naturally a resounding victory for Stormwind's forces.

"Hm? It's over?" Duke had originally thought there would be a ninth round or something. "I haven't had enough fun yet."

Before him, the administrator raven appeared again and gave an awkward laugh. "Little fellow, no need to pretend. You knew long ago that this was not some dormitory trial. Don't worry, little fellow. You will receive an additional reward."

"Hehe!"

The scene changed again. When Duke came to his senses, he suddenly found himself in a splendid, magnificently decorated hall.

The hall resembled a buffet restaurant. Quite a few people dressed as apprentices had already arrived, gathering in groups of two or three. Some starving apprentices picked up pastries from the dining tables and began eating.

Duke saw Daniel and Itana.

"Duke, over here!" Daniel called out warmly. Who would have thought that the moment he shouted, the entire hall's attention would fall on Duke?

Every gaze was full of ill intent!

"Did... did I do something wrong?" Daniel was not particularly slow-witted, and he immediately sensed that something was off.

"No, you did nothing wrong." Duke stepped forward, raised his arm slightly, and patted Daniel on the shoulder.

"That's right! The one in the wrong is you—Duke Marcus! Mage Norton must have made a mistake somewhere. You cannot possibly have ninth-tier aptitude." At that moment, a stern, indisputable voice rang out.

Duke's eyes sharpened as he glanced at the newcomer. He was a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old blond boy dressed with obvious refinement, clearly from a wealthy family. His hair was neatly combed straight back.

Just some pretty boy!

"Didn't your mother teach you not to interrupt people at random? Don't you even know the basic courtesy of introducing yourself before speaking to a stranger?"

Duke's retort made the boy's face turn red, then green. Yet his good upbringing still allowed him to remain calm. "I am Philip Jandell of the Jandell family of Stromgarde. As a direct descendant of the Jandell family, which has possessed a magical legacy for a thousand years, I am only a seventh-tier apprentice. I have deep doubts regarding your ninth-tier aptitude."

Suddenly, a voice came from nearby. "There is no need to doubt it. In the sixth round just now, Duke Marcus defeated you with an absolute advantage."

One stone sent up a thousand waves.

Everyone had originally believed it was merely a simulated battle set up by the academy, one involving virtual characters. Who could have imagined that it was actually a mage duel synchronized from real people as models!?

No apprentice dared question the newcomer's words. Although he looked a little too young, the prominent royal emblem on him revealed his identity—an Imperial Mage of the Stormwind Kingdom!

The Imperial Mage walked up to Duke.

"Hello, Duke Marcus. I am Medivh, Imperial Archmage. Are you interested in becoming my disciple?"

Duke answered almost without thinking, "I refuse!"