Black Night

"What was that gesture just now?" Lister and several farmer children quickly skinned the rats, slit open their bellies with the small hunter's knives they carried, cleaned them, then built a fire on the spot to roast them. Lister casually plucked a wild fennel plant from beside him, picked a few leaves and stuffed them into the rats' bellies, then set the skewered rats by the fire. "What does it do?"

Octas took a skewer of roasted rats. The fennel had nicely neutralized the rats' earthy smell. He pulled off one roasted to a golden brown and sat on the ground without a care for appearances, eating it. "Don't talk while you're eating."

Lister shrugged. He accepted a handful of raspberries handed over by a child beside him and stuffed them straight into his mouth. The rat meat and skin roasted together with the fennel, giving off an enticing, spicy aroma. Pairs of nimble hands easily tore off the golden-brown skin and meat, stuffing it into eager mouths. It was truly delicious.

"Aren't mages supposed to eat exquisite food?" Nobo looked curiously at Octas. With a rat leg dangling from his mouth, he asked indistinctly, "You should too..."

"A mage's life is far harder than you imagine." Octas looked coldly at Nobo. "Having the aptitude of a mage does not mean you can smoothly master the power of the arcane. Apprentices must undergo countless experiments and training before they can pass their assessments and become official mages."

"After becoming an official mage, if you want a peaceful and orderly life, it is best to find a lord and become his advisor. Or you can use your knowledge of potion-making and alchemy to serve particular clients. At worst, you become a mercenary. Spell experiments require vast resources. Unless you find a stable source of income, you simply cannot study in peace."

"Then I'll definitely return to inherit my father's territory." Nobo's words made Octas freeze. He placed the rat on a leaf, raised his right hand, extended his index finger, and pressed his thumb and middle finger together, aiming it at Nobo. "I'll tell you the first rule of the mage world for free: if you face a stronger mage, obediently do as they say."

Lister immediately felt an invisible ripple radiate from Octas's hand. Like an ominous wind, it swept swiftly over the campfire, scattering the flames. When the wind passed, the forked flames merged together again, as though nothing had happened.

The only one who changed was Nobo. He clawed at his throat, his eyes bulging and face flushed red, as though something were lodged in his throat.

"This is Silence," Octas explained on his own initiative. "It prevents the target's throat from vibrating, which means they cannot make a sound. This is a required spell during the mage apprentice stage. At your level, you still need incantations, specific gestures, or poses to cast spells. If your voice is suddenly interrupted, many novice mages will be stripped of their ability to cast."

Sure enough, Nobo simply could not make a sound. He dejectedly ate his meat. Ambella revealed a faint smile. The flickering firelight did not illuminate her angle well, creating an extremely strange scene. No one noticed; they were completely drawn in by Octas and continued listening to his explanation.

"For example, I am a fourth-circle mage currently serving House Wrynn of Storm City. Of course, the services I provide them cannot conflict with Dalaran's interests. That is our bottom line. Dalaran is the shared home of all mages. If someone sells out Dalaran's interests for personal gain, he will become the enemy of all mages."

"All mages?" Lister asked. "Are all mages in Dalaran?"

Octas fell silent, and everyone wisely shut their mouths without asking anything further. After a moment, he spoke. "Good question. I must admit that I made a small mistake. As a reward for pointing it out, you may ask me one small question in private. I won't charge you."

"In fact, not all mages come from Dalaran." He looked at Lister with a complicated expression. "A large number of mages also come from the northern elven kingdom, Quel'Thalas."

Everyone looked at Lister, but he remained perfectly calm, quietly eating raspberries. "Why are you looking at me? It has nothing to do with me."

"But," Ambella spread her hands, "you have elven blood."

Lister showed a warm smile. "Do I? The elves did not raise me. I am only Lister of Fleck Village, not Lister of Quel'Thalas or Silver Crown Forest."

No one spoke. The crackling of the fire was especially clear. Dry branches turned charred black in the flames, red sparks bursting from their crevices before becoming ash. Octas's voice rang out again, drawing everyone's attention. "Let's continue discussing mages. As beginners, you will have fifteen years to study general courses, such as spellcasting, astronomy, mathematics, coordinated combat with infantry and cavalry, art classes, Elven, potion-making, alchemy, and so on. Once you have completed these general courses, you will face an examination."

"A very brutal examination." Octas drew a deep breath, his thoughts seeming to return to that moment. "In our examination, we were thrown onto the ice plains of Northrend. We fought frost trolls, evaded mammoth men pursuing us, and even faced the pursuit of a blue dragon. We struggled through the ice and snow for a month before reaching our destination. Around forty percent of the apprentices lost their lives."

What a terrifying ratio. If they included the chances of apprentices having accidents during experiments while studying, as well as the possibility of dropping out midway, then even in the best-case scenario, only one quarter of apprentices would become mages. Even before the warm campfire, everyone could not help but break out in a cold sweat. Their hearts seemed to stop beating.

Lister was like a student caught by his teacher for failing to do his homework, drenched in cold sweat. His clothes had stiffened from it, weighing on him like a round wooden barrel. This ratio was even more frightening than being diverted after the high school entrance exam. After all, failing that exam only sent you to a vocational school, while failure here meant death.

Octas raised his eyes, coldness filling his pupils. "That's right. At least half of all apprentices will die."

At that moment, a different sound drifted through the wind. A faint, indistinct sigh carried on the breeze, and it immediately put Octas on alert. He abruptly rose from the ground and stared in a direction within the darkness.

Lister was the second to notice something was wrong. His hairs stood on end. "Wolves?!"

"We need weapons and armor!" Ambella cried in exasperation. Nobo suddenly realized he could speak again; Octas had immediately canceled his Silence. "Don't panic! We have a teacher!"