Chapter 17: Violet Academy
As the provincial capital, White River City was situated within the embrace of this mother river.
There were no vast golden wheat fields here, nor herds of cattle and sheep.
The prosperity of the entire city was built entirely upon massive comrcial trade, and at its core lay an industrial chain centered around underground dungeons and monster materials.
Because White River Province possessed the densest cluster of Underground Dungeon Labyrinths in the entire kingdom, it had naturally beco a holy land for Adventurers.
On both sides of the enormous white river—wide enough for dium-sized rchant ships to sail side by side—stood countless towers and spired buildings.
There gathered the most comprehensive institutions for training professionals in the entire province and even the surrounding regions.
At this mont, the afterglow of the setting sun was about to fade, and the magical street lamps along the roads lit up one after another, emitting a soft warm yellow glow.
The scenery along the White River was completely different from the rural tranquility of Graystone Town. There was a youthful, restless vitality here.
On the wide stone-paved riverside roads, young n and won in uniforms could be seen everywhere.
So hurried along with thick textbooks tucked under their arms, while others sat in pairs on benches by the river, whispering softly.
Here, the boundaries between races seed much more blurred.
Besides humans, demi-human students with distinct animal traits could be seen weaving through the crowd.
There were even Lizardn swordsn dragging thick tails, sturdy Dwarven blacksmith apprentices, and agile Halflings.
This was a city full of inclusiveness and endless possibilities.
And no matter where one stood in the city, as long as they looked up, they could see the most magnificent landmark standing by the White River.
That was the largest magic academy in White River City—
Violet Academy.
At the top of the towering central mage tower, a massive ring-shaped structure composed of countless tal rings and runes floated in midair.
It was the floating library known by countless students as the “Ring of Truth.”
When night fully descended,
this enormous ring would slowly rotate under the operation of magic arrays, emitting specks of white fluorescence like stardust, as if a brilliant galaxy had fallen into the mortal world.
Both mysterious and breathtakingly beautiful.
At this mont, inside a private office within the high tower encircled by the ring—
An elderly man wearing a deep purple mage robe sat behind a desk piled high with parchnt.
In his hand, he held a delicate silver letter opener, carefully prying open a wax-sealed envelope.
Stamped on the seal was the insignia of the Adventurers’ Guild of White River City.
Under normal circumstances, such official letters would be handled uniformly by the academic affairs office.
But the old man knew clearly—
there was only one person in this world who would deliberately send him a private letter through this channel.
That was that old bastard in Graystone Town.
A fellow retiree from the ranks of veteran Adventurers, yet soone who refused to live quietly.
The old man unfolded the letter and, under the light of the magic lamp on the desk, read it from beginning to end with great seriousness.
“Heh…”
After reading the final line, he set the letter down and shook his head helplessly.
He hadn’t expected that this prideful old friend would actually lower himself to ask for help over such a matter.
Graystone Town…
The old man’s gaze passed through the window toward the southwest.
That was the place where their forr party leader had been born.
It seed that old fellow truly intended to settle down in that rural town, hoping to cultivate a new batch of capable Adventurers there.
“Fifteen days until the Month of Golden Harvest.”
The old man tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, calculating in his mind.
The group of students in the academy who had just mastered basic spellcasting were like flowers in a greenhouse—they urgently needed a real storm to temper them.
It might be a good idea to send them there under the na of an “off-campus internship.”
Not only would it help that old friend with his urgent needs, but it would also enhance the students’ practical combat abilities.
A win-win situation.
But business was business.
It was rare to see that old fellow so humble. A mischievous smile appeared on the old man’s wrinkled face.
He imdiately spread out a fresh sheet of paper, dipped his pen in ink, and began writing.
This was a once-in-a-lifeti opportunity.
In his reply, he wrote at length, filling it with all sorts of mocking remarks, every line brimming with schadenfreude at his old friend’s predicant.
He even deliberately dug up embarrassing incidents from decades ago when they had been adventuring together—stories that would make anyone burst into laughter.
This ti, having the upper hand, he could make that old bastard fu with anger yet have no choice but to swallow it.
Just imagining the furious expression on that old man’s face when he received the letter made him feel imnsely satisfied.
Just as he was getting carried away, the corners of his mouth almost reaching his ears—
Knock, knock, knock.
The heavy oak door of the office was suddenly struck.
The old man’s expression froze instantly.
At an astonishing speed, he wiped away the smile on his face and quickly stuffed the letter into a drawer.
Then—
He straightened his back, composed his expression, and his eyes beca stern and profound, instantly assuming the deanor of a rigid and serious professor.
After adjusting his collar, he spoke in a low and authoritative voice:
“Co in.”
“Professor Gideon.”
As the heavy oak door was pushed open, a gentle voice entered.
The person who ca in did not approach the desk directly but stood at the doorway, bowing respectfully toward the old man behind the desk.
Her movents were impeccable, polite to a fault.
Gideon adjusted his glasses and saw her clearly.
She was a young girl in the pri of youth.
She had pure white hair like fresh snow, styled into two fluffy buns on either side of her head.
Two finely braided strands hung down from her temples, sliding along her cheeks.
Her face was delicately oval-shaped, her features as refined as if sculpted by an artist’s hand.
What set her apart most from ordinary humans was the pair of ears peeking through her hair—
long, slender, and slightly pointed, revealing the Elven blood flowing within her.
At this mont, she wore an off-shoulder pure white dress, the neckline adorned with intricate ruffles.
This attire made her look not only like a well-behaved student, but more like a carefully dressed display doll.
Seeing her outfit, Gideon couldn’t help but feel a few imaginary lines appear on his forehead.
He rubbed his temples and sighed helplessly.
“Cecilia, did your aunt dress you up again?”
Though it was phrased as a question, Gideon already knew the answer.
In this Violet Academy, there was only one person capable of such a thing.
Cecilia’s aunt—also a well-known combat instructor in the academy.
That woman was a powerful veteran Adventurer, but due to her explosive temper and eccentric behavior, she was privately nicknad the “Violet Madwoman” by other instructors.
Yet when facing her niece, that madwoman would instantly turn into a hopeless doting aunt.
Her greatest hobby was dressing up her beautiful niece like an exquisite doll, satisfying her peculiar obsession with outfits.
Hearing the professor’s question, Cecilia lowered her head in embarrassnt, gently twisting the lace at the edge of her skirt with her fingers.
“Aunt said… this dress matches today’s sunlight.”
Just as expected.
As Cecilia’s ntor, Gideon felt deeply helpless about this.
A promising talent was practically being led astray by that madwoman.
“Alright, sit down first.”
Gideon pointed to the chair across the desk.
Once the girl sat obediently, placing her hands neatly on her knees, Gideon’s expression turned serious.
“I called you here today to ask—have you chosen your career path?”
At the ntion of business, the shyness on Cecilia’s face faded, replaced by a focused expression.
In Violet Academy, after students mastered basic combat or spellcasting techniques, they all faced a crucial decision.
That was to determine their future career path and receive targeted training provided by the academy.
This was by no ans unnecessary.
Those self-taught Adventurers outside might not understand, but academy-trained individuals were taught this knowledge as a fundantal.
The power system of professionals was not simply about stacking attributes.
After formally taking a class, the growth coefficients of physical attributes would undergo a qualitative transformation.
Attributes that were difficult to improve before class advancent would beco significantly easier to enhance after receiving class modifiers.
This was precisely why the academy required students to et the prerequisite conditions for their chosen class as quickly as possible and complete the class advancent ceremony early.
Only in this way could they fully utilize class bonuses and maximize their gains on the path of future growth.
This was core knowledge that ordinary Adventurers could never access—
an educational barrier built upon expensive tuition.
Reviews
All reviews (0)