Crack!
With a faint, mosquito-like crackle, a thread-thin bolt of lightning, like a spark, fell from nowhere.
It struck the young publicly funded student's head, scorching his spirited ahoge into a crumpled mess and filling the air with a strange burnt scent.
The lightning shattered the awful image in Zheng Qing's mind.
The young wizard's laughter stopped abruptly.
Fatty Xin, who had been talking animatedly, and Dr. Xiao, who had been listening attentively, also fell silent. They turned together to look at the young publicly funded student, their eyes filled with tension and suspicion.
The three stared at one another.
Amid the unsettling silence, Zhang Jixin's stiff recitation sounded especially clear: "...Enjoy Your Funeral, by George Mick. With delicate strokes progressing from the small to the grand, it describes every aspect of the Blood Clan's life after emerging from the grave. It is a classic work of classical Blood Clan metaphysics..."
Zheng Qing's slightly pale face scrunched up as he struggled to recall this familiar scene.
After a while, he rubbed his cheek, trying his best to clear the chaotic thoughts from his mind. At the same time, he cautiously glanced up at the ceiling, afraid that the petty Legendary Wizard might sense something and send down another bolt of lightning.
Only then did he speak again, rather dryly.
"Does The High Priestess have to be held by a Legendary Wizard?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
The Fat Wizard did not answer immediately. He cautiously examined the scorched, curled ahoge on Zheng Qing's forehead.
"Probably."
He scratched his chin, his eyes flickering as he vaguely avoided more sensitive terms. "Judging from the lists published by The Wand over the years, that does seem to be the case... Almost every Vice Principal is a Legendary Wizard, so Professor Emma's