The stone door to Blood Fury's office was left slightly ajar, and the rustling of paper could be heard from within.
Ethan raised his hand, knocked twice, and pushed the door open without waiting for a response.
The furnishings in the office were no different from his last visit.
The stone table was still the same stone table, the chair was still the same chair, and the crystals embedded in the walls still emitted a dark red glow.
However, there were a few more people in the room.
Blood Fury sat behind the stone table, while Dark Stream stood to its left.
Two people stood opposite the stone table.
On the far left was a short, chubby, middle-aged man.
He had a round face, a bald head, and a small mustache on his chin. He wore a dark yellow short robe that bulged tightly over his potbelly.
On the far right was a thin woman.
Her hair was shaved extremely short, almost to the scalp, revealing several thin, dark blue-green tattoos beneath her cheekbones on both sides. The tattoos stretched from her cheekbones all the way down to her neck, disappearing into her collar.
Ethan stepped into the office, placed his right hand over his chest, and bowed slightly.
“Director Blood Fury, Director Dark Stream.”
Blood Fury set down his cup and stood up from his chair.
“You're here.” He waved at Ethan. “Come on in.”
He first pointed to the short, chubby, middle-aged man.
“This is Convict, the Director of the Academic Department, specializing in Alchemy.”
“Director Convict.”
Convict's voice was a bit more shrill than his appearance suggested, and his tone was unhurried. “So you're Ethan? In this past half year, the Logistics Department's material consumption has tripled, and every single purchase order has your signature on it. Several First-Tier Alchemists over in the Academic Department have complained to me multiple times, saying that the materials warehouse is about to be completely emptied out by you alone.”
He paused, his mustache twitching.
“It's a good thing for young people to have drive. If you have any questions regarding alchemy in the future, you can come find me at the Academic Department. I dedicate half a day every ten days to answering questions for First-Tier Wizards.”
Ethan nodded. “Thank you, Director.”
Blood Fury pointed to the thin woman.
“This is Secret Eagle, the Director of the Research Department.”
Ethan turned to Secret Eagle and bowed. “Director Secret Eagle.”
Secret Eagle stared at Ethan for a couple of seconds.
Her gaze was sharp, like a bird of prey sizing up its target.
“You're the one who tricked the Three-Thousandth Prince of the Sea Dragon tribe?”
Her tone was flat, making it hard to tell if it was praise or scrutiny.
“You did well. But you should also be careful. The princes and princesses of the Sea Race fight fiercely among themselves, but they tend to unite when facing outsiders. Boulder lost a lot of face, so his siblings might try to reclaim his honor for him.”
Well, she clearly still didn't know that Boulder had already been killed by him.
Ethan maintained his bowing posture. “Thank you for the warning, Director.”
Blood Fury scanned the office. “Everyone is here. Let's get down to business.”
He propped both hands on the edge of the stone table, his square-jawed face a bit more serious than usual.
“Our trip to Jingyuan Academy for the exchange tournament this time is a bit different from previous years.”
“It certainly is,” Convict's shrill voice said in an unhurried tone. “In past tournaments, we would just shoot the breeze with people from other Three Rings academies, see if we could find some bargain deals, and attend technical exchange sessions organized by the big shots. Then, we'd stay for a few years and head back when Jingyuan kicked everyone out. This time is different; they're holding a District 77 Grand Tournament. The Headmaster sent word from Amons World—we need to show off the power of our Blood Bone Tower.”
Secret Eagle spoke up, looking puzzled. “Why the sudden tournament? What tier is it? Tier 3? Tier 2?”
Blood Fury held up a single finger. “First-Tier.”
“First-Tier? A bunch of Three Rings academies sending First-Tiers to fight in a grand tournament?”
“Who knows.”
“Fine then,” Secret Eagle continued to ask. “What did the Headmaster say? Did he set a goal?”
“He did. The Headmaster sent word from Amons World that for this exchange tournament, we should fight as hard as we can and secure the highest rank possible. At the very least, we must make it into the top three thousand.”
The office fell silent for a brief moment.
The top three thousand.
Blood Bone Tower's ranking had always hovered around the upper-middle tier among the fifty thousand plus Three Rings academies in District 77.
The top three thousand didn't sound too bad, but in the context of the entire district, it was merely a level that kept them from falling behind.
What did the top three thousand mean?
It meant they had to surpass at least fifty thousand other Three Rings academies of the same level.
Every First-Tier Wizard sent by each academy to participate in the tournament was definitely a top-tier combatant, handpicked and far from easy to deal with.
Trying to break into the top three thousand among these people was no less difficult than snatching a bloody piece of meat from a pack of hungry wolves.
Convict's mustache twitched. “The top three thousand. The Headmaster is asking us to risk our lives.”
“Is it even an exchange tournament if we don't risk our lives?” Blood Fury grinned, the savagery and excitement in his smile practically spilling out of his eyes. “After running around in District 77 for so many years, who doesn't know our Blood Bone Tower? We're the country bumpkins among the Three Rings academies, the paupers among the Black Wizards. Every exchange tournament, we get treated like pushovers. The Headmaster has had enough this time. He wants to show all of District 77 that the people of Blood Bone Tower are not to be trifled with.”
As Blood Fury finished speaking, the gazes of the five directors fell upon Ethan at the same time.
Dark Stream thought of something and turned his head to look at Blood Fury. “Wait a minute! Does the Headmaster's intent have something to do with Ethan?”
Blood Fury grinned. “Exactly. It's precisely because of Ethan that the Headmaster is demanding we get into the top three thousand.”
Convict rubbed his bald head, his mustache curling upward. “Hiss, is this kid really that strong?”
The smug expression on Blood Fury's face was completely undisguised. “Why else?”
Secret Eagle suddenly spoke up. “Words alone prove nothing.”
The others also wore expressions of disbelief.
Blood Fury scoffed and looked at Ethan. “Heh, I knew you'd say that. Ethan, show them what you've got.”
“Director, is that alright?”
“Do it.”
Well, might as well do it then.
Ethan's eyes flickered slightly. “Tsk, I guess I'll show a little something.”
Dozens of dark green vines suddenly condensed in the air behind him.
The vines were only as thick as a wrist, with dark gold patterns flowing across their surfaces. They spread out in all directions from behind him like a weaving net.
In the blink of an eye, the vines extended in front of Ethan, twisting, intertwining, and compressing together.
The wooden fibers groaned and creaked as they rubbed against each other. Dozens of vines twisted into a single strand, condensing into the shape of a drill bit in front of him.
The tip of the drill bit was spiral-shaped, and every groove on its surface wriggled slowly, looking like the breathing muscle of a living creature.
The five directors looked at this scene, all of them somewhat bewildered.
A vine drill?
What could this thing do?
Convict's mustache twitched. He had seen wood-attribute wizards use vines to strangle, weave walls, or grow toxic thorns, but he had never seen anyone twist vines into a drill.
Wasn't a drill supposed to be used for boring holes?
Rate on N.U.
