"Boom!" The explosion from the fireball spell sent a cloud of earth and rubble flying across the training ground. The lower-level apprentice facing Sain let out a scream before shouting his surrender and retreating clumsily from the battle area. One of his arms was charred and rendered useless due to the power of Sain's secondary fireball technique—this was the price he paid for challenging Sain and losing.
The Black Magic Academy had never been known for its moderation; instances of injuries or even fatalities among apprentices clarified why a group of qualified young minds entered the academy each year, yet the total number of apprentices within the academy never seemed to rise. In truth, after Sain took the stage, significantly fewer apprentices dared to challenge him for a long while. His fearsome reputation seemed to solidify his place among the top three.
But among the apprentices at the Black Magic Academy, there were always some brave—or perhaps foolhardy—enough to challenge him. The one who had just challenged Sain became an example of the perilous price of such bravery, suffering the loss of an arm and enhancing Sain's already notorious status.
What astonished many of the low-level apprentices watching the battle was that Sain had not even used his trump card in the form of his short staff; he managed to dominate the duel solely through his mastery of the fireball spell. Over the past two months, Sain had diligently studied the notes from his mentor, Mosido, and this proved to be beneficial. With a faster casting speed and lower magical energy consumption, coupled with Sain's natural talent for combat and quick reflexes, defeating his opponents had become quite natural.
Moreover, this was a one-on-one duel, not a chaotic brawl. For mages, sometimes being able to cast spells faster than one's opponent could determine the outcome, and Sain owed his success to both Mosido's magical notes and the private guidance from Senior Sister Faye. Without their assistance, he would not have made such significant progress in merely two months.
At this point, if Sain were to venture into the domain of the saltwater crocodiles again, he would undoubtedly face significant risks, but he would undoubtedly be much more composed than he had been two months ago. His right hand, concealed beneath his black robe, tightly gripped his staff as he regained his mental and magical power while scanning for potential challengers.
According to the custom, a low-level apprentice who achieved three consecutive victories would be rewarded by the academy. Since not all low-level apprentices were willing to risk their lives for a reward, Sain's sixth-place ranking from the previous year came after two victories and one defeat, determining his overall standing.
Beyond Sain's activity, battles among other apprentices had commenced in the training ground as well. The low-level apprentice area was likely the least "exciting" battlefield, as most of these apprentices could only cast a single spell, with those capable of two being a rarity. The real draw for the hundreds of apprentices gathered in the training ground was the battlegrounds where intermediate and high-level apprentices fought.
The colorful display of magical energies captivated these newcomers to the Shadowy Lands, instilling both a sense of the heavy pressures of survival as well as aspirations for future power. Power was the ultimate motivator for most apprentices studying magic. The concepts of "seeking truth" and "the essence of magic" that Mosido spoke of were understood by very few.
As the battles on the training ground raged on, the three black wizards in the stands ignored the injuries and fatalities unfolding below, engaged in their own conversation. It was mainly two of the black wizards who were chatting among themselves; the third, a blue-haired man with a cold demeanor, mostly remained silent.
"Master Andis, I heard that the vice-dean discovered a rift in space-time in the Shadow Valley. Is it true?" One of the chatting black wizards finally couldn't resist asking the quiet blue-haired man.
In the ranks of official dark wizards, there existed a hierarchy of power; after all, this was the perilous underworld where strength mattered. Andis was a notable figure among the official dark wizards in Mosobla City, reputedly second only to the three vice-deans. All three vice-deans were powerful second-level wizards, while Andis had not yet reached that level, yet his esteemed reputation indicated he was at the apex of first-level strength.
Upon hearing the inquiry from his two peers, Andis shot them an emotionless glance before slowly replying, "It's true; Vice-Dean Martin and Lady Qioni are currently over there."
"However, the scale of this rift is quite small, and it is unclear which alternate world it connects to; there's no confirmation yet whether it has any development value."
Andis seemed to possess quite a bit of insider knowledge, sharing details that the other two dark wizards were evidently unaware of. One of the black wizards, visibly excited, remarked, "I hope it's a segment with development potential; Mosobla City is so desolate."
"If it weren't for the vice-dean's stringent restrictions on our activities in recent years, I would have raided the surface long ago."
"Those magical organizations and noble knights above are rolling in wealth; it's easy to find a solo target…"
This black wizard spoke with enthusiasm, perhaps too pent up from being confined underground for too long, sharing the kind of "dark talk" unique to their wizarding community. The other wizard nodded repeatedly, yet he seemed more temperate. Besides agreeing with his companion, he interjected, "We need to be cautious when acting in the surface world."
"Ordinary magical organizations and noble knights might be manageable, but if we anger the Sanctum or the Knights' Hall…" The tone of this wizard was laced with palpable wariness towards the latter two entities.
Of course, beyond fear, an undercurrent of emotion brewed—especially concerning the mention of the "Sanctum."
Master Andis found the chatter of his colleagues rather mundane. He wasn't one for idle speculation; instead, he was genuinely interested in the rift in space-time, which was why he had gathered so much information.
"You think there's a possibility that the rift leads to a fully-formed plane?" the more reasonable of the two black wizards suddenly asked.
However, his comment indicated he wasn't entirely "reasonable" himself. A fully-formed plane was a world teeming with countless beings and well-defined laws. Such a realm, regardless of how small, was beyond the aspirations of a modest place like Mosobla City. Only the Sanctums and Knights' Halls from around the wizarding worlds possessed the capability to conquer an entire realm.
The combatants involved could amount to hundreds of thousands, or even millions, of enslaved creatures.
Mosobla City had only a handful of official dark wizards. Counting all, there were barely twenty, less than thirty at most. Such a tiny force seeking to infiltrate a fully-formed plane was akin to a child's fantasy.