Croak!
The hoarse, piercing sound interrupted the conversation between the two wizards.
A crow crawled out from the shadow of Professor Monteria's robe. Flapping its wings, it hopped onto the coffee table, stretched out its head, and pecked at the orange-honey-colored liquor in the cup.
The Wanderer Wizard gave the crow a friendly nod.
Then he looked back at Professor Monteria and continued their earlier conversation. "Mercy? There is no mercy in the Black Prison... More likely, after Danhaag declares you Fallen, you'll be thrown into the Black Prison and gradually turn into a pile of dry bones over the long years... I mean after the new Black Prison has been established."
After the war ended, the old Black Prison regained its Life Force and was no longer suitable as the Alliance's prison. First University and the Grand Wizard Council were selecting an appropriate world of death to transform into a new Black Prison.
Professor Monteria interlaced his fingers and rested them on his knees. He replied softly, "Being judged Fallen does not mean one has truly Fallen. Even if I am in the Black Prison, my spirit will remain free and pure."
"Many Fallen Wizards said the same thing before being locked in the Black Prison."
The Wanderer Wizard placed a hand over his wineglass, his eyes following the crow on the coffee table as he gathered his thoughts. "Of course, we won't let that happen—no matter how 'merciful' it may be. You aren't foolish enough to touch the school's red line, and I can't bear to abandon this bar that has absorbed the efforts of half my life... It's like my child. Who would abandon their own child and wander everywhere?"
This was the third time he had emphasized "principles" or some similar notion.
The private room fell