"The tutor’s inheritance hasn’t been fully inventoried yet. I still have so concluding tasks, so it can only be divided after seven days."
Seven days? Carl thought. Given Hibell’s current condition, it’s uncertain if she can survive even seven hours, let alone seven days.
"Tim!" Carl’s expression turned grim. "Do you still dare to say you have no involvent in the assassination? You clearly know Senior Sister Hibell can’t last seven days. You just want her to die so you can monopolize the tutor’s inheritance!"
"Nonsense!" Tim stood tall, his expression unchanged. "I am only acting according to the rules; no one can fault !"
Their fierce argunt attracted many onlookers, and inevitably, discussions rippled through the crowd.
Actually, everyone was well aware that there was sothing wrong with Tim. But the key issue was the lack of evidence, and as he said, no one could fault him for acting according to the rules.
The person qualified to divide Adolph’s inheritance was unconscious, and the other’s qualifications were in question. The situation was almost unsalvageable.
Watching Carl’s livid face, Tim displayed a smug smile and slowly straightened up. So what if the assassination failed? As long as he outlasted Hibell, the inheritance would still be his. As for Carl... a re novice apprentice who has only been in the Wizard World for just over a year—there would be plenty of ways to deal with him later.
"Ladies and gentlen!" Carl took a deep breath and looked around. "Is anyone willing to provide forty to fifty Magic Stones for to buy an antidote for my Senior Sister Hibell? Once she recovers and inherits the estate, I will certainly repay double the amount!"
Tim’s expression changed.
"Hah..." soone in the crowd chuckled lowly. "Forty to fifty Magic Stones? What if she decides not to repay once she wakes up? Can you make decisions for her?"
"Exactly!"
"Yes!"
"..."
Repaying double was an attractive profit, but it required assurance. Most people in the Wizard World were cold-hearted; no one wanted to voluntarily invite trouble. Just like now. They all knew there was sothing wrong with Tim, yet not a single person was willing to step forward; they just stood by and watched the spectacle.
"Don’t worry!" Carl spoke solemnly. "My Senior Sister Hibell is not that kind of person. And once she wakes up, she will prove that I am also a disciple of Tutor Adolph and equally entitled to a share of the inheritance. If she doesn’t repay, I will! I can sign a written pledge, using my rightful share of the inheritance as collateral, to guarantee your returns."
"It’s not that simple." At this mont, a lazy voice sounded as Anslot, clad in a white robe, slowly stepped out from the crowd. He first nodded to Tim, then said, "The blood of a Death-ssenger Crow can indeed neutralize the secretions of a Spirit-Coil Snail, but it depends on the situation. If the poisoning were recent, it would be easily resolved. However, this Interdiate Wizard Apprentice has been poisoned for three days. The toxin has penetrated deeply into her body; even with the crow’s blood, it might not be effective."
"Everyone..." He looked around and continued, "If you decide to contribute Magic Stones, you might very well lose everything and not receive the supposed compensation."
As his words fell, those who had initially shown so interest involuntarily drew back, shaking their heads and retracting their offers. Forty to fifty Magic Stones often represented the lifeti accumulation of most Interdiate Wizard Apprentices. Who would dare to take such a risk, and offend people in the process?
Carl’s expression was gloomy. "Who are you?"
Anslot placed one hand on his chest and bowed slightly in greeting. "Anslot," he said. "A disciple of Wizard Maiya."
Maiya? One of the three Official Wizards in the Alliance!
Seeing that no one else responded, Tim showed a smug smile. "Carl," he said, his voice deepening, "You seem to have forgotten who it was that brought you through the gates of the Wizard World. Is this how you repay ? You haven’t even successfully constructed a single Zero-Circle Magic, yet now you dare to question an Interdiate Wizard Apprentice. And you even fantasize about dividing what doesn’t belong to you! How audacious of you..."
WHOOSH!
Before he could finish, a streak of light shot toward him.
Magical Missile!
Tim’s eyes narrowed. A sphere of water suddenly appeared out of thin air, enveloping the Magical Missile and rapidly dissolving it.
"Who says I don’t know Zero-Circle Magic?" Carl’s face was contorted, his anger flaring uncontrollably. "Tim! You despicable, shaless scoundrel! You hired assassins to murder and my Senior Sister Hibell, both of whom are heirs to our tutor’s legacy! I... I’ll fight you to the death!"
Seeing that all hope of saving Hibell had vanished, while the culprit who hired the assassins could escape punishnt, Carl grasped the hilt of the sword at his waist and was about to charge.
"What do you think you’re doing?" Tim raised an eyebrow. "This is the Swamp Alliance camp, not your ho."
"Stop!"
"Hold on!"
"..."
Arthur and other Wizard Apprentices rushed to intervene. Various Magic Halos lit up, forcing Carl to halt his steps.
"Tim!" he roared, feigning a loss of reason out of grief and indignation, and hatefully threw down his right-hand glove. "In the na of nobility, I challenge you to a duel! If I lose, I will take Hibell and leave, never appearing before you again! If you lose... you must restore my status as our tutor’s disciple, and you must also give your share of the inheritance!"
"Tim!" Carl glared at him furiously. "You despicable, shaless, sinister, venomous cur! Do you dare face in a duel?"
"..." Tim’s expression darkened. He was a respected Wizard Apprentice. When had he ever suffered such humiliation? And not just once, but repeatedly!
Anger surged, and he couldn’t stop a cold smirk from appearing. "Carl. As you wish! I will personally twist your head off in the duel, just as I personally led you through the gates of the Wizard World!"
Nearby, Anslot subconsciously frowned. In his view, Tim is clearly being impulsive. There’s absolutely no need to heed this provocation.
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