The Wizard Who Walked Out of the White Tower

The terrifying magical fluctuation came suddenly, yet it did not cause any great uproar on campus.

For some unknown reason, the fluctuation had occurred only within the bounds of Linzhong Lake. More than ten meters from the shore, a fat little squirrel was digging for hazelnuts in the snow. But the two young wizards standing on the bank, along with the cobra that had rolled over in a ball, were all slammed flat against the ground by that crushing pressure.

Ilena's face was pale, her eyes tightly shut, as though she had completely lost consciousness. The cobra, however, still flicked the tip of its tail from time to time, whether from nervous spasms or because it still retained some awareness.

Zheng Qing did not know why he was still conscious.

But he knew this state of wakefulness would not last much longer.

He lay with his head turned to one side, his cheek pressed against the icy slush. Breathing was difficult, and his vision, whether due to the mist or something else, was hazy. He could not see anything clearly.

From the corner of his eye, he could see the squirrel sticking up its rear, digging twice, then standing upright to look around before crouching down to dig again. Its fluffy tail swayed cheerfully in the air.

I'm not even as good as a squirrel.

The young scholarship student mourned inwardly as he desperately tried to draw upon the energy in every cell of his body and struggle free, all while feeling his magic, consciousness, and strength slowly squeezed dry beneath the external pressure.

Helplessness was his only feeling.

Yet following that immense magical fluctuation came a sensation like a spring breeze brushing across his face. Tension and relaxation, two utterly contradictory sensations, entwined together and left Zheng Qing's mind