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墨書 Inktalez
After winning the Royal Challenge at the academy, Nora's name spread throughout the kingdom overnight.
- "The Beacon of Commoners in the Magical Realm!"
- "The Thrilling Speech of Nora Thorn: 'The Throne Belongs to More Than Just Bloodlines'"
- "She Claims Nobles Are Just Ordinary People with Microphones—Quotes Now Printed on Merchandise"
Yet Nora knew that this was far from enough.
She remembered the closed doors of the council when her mother died, the silence that followed the collapse of the Royal Magic Workshop with no one held accountable, and the nobles who casually said "what a pity" while their wine glasses trembled in their hands.
That was not the end of revenge.
That was merely the true beginning of it.
At this critical juncture, the academy received an unexpected invitation:
【Royal Council Public Hearing: Inviting Nora Thorn's father, former Royal Alchemy Advisor Elias Thorn, to make a statement as a "System Observer."】
The tone of the letter was gentle, and the wording elegant, as if genuinely respecting the recipient's professional background and personal feelings.
But they forgot that Elias Thorn's feelings had long been turned to ash by them thirteen years ago.
House of Representatives.
In the Royal Capital Supreme Council Chamber, for the first time in a century, a non-noble-born wizard was allowed to speak publicly.
Elias Thorn wore a wrinkled but clean work robe, holding his old friend: a Magic Rust Pickaxe.
"This is what I used when I dug out the first alchemical pipe from the foundation of the capital," he said. "It is neither a symbol nor a weapon; it is a tool. Just like me."
He stepped up to the podium, his voice calm and clear:
"I am not here to apologize today because I did nothing wrong."
"You think I would regret losing control during the explosion at the council, smashing the Transmission Tower and blowing up the Data Building—"
"Yes, I admit it; I blew things up, but it was worth it."
A stir went through the audience.
A Member stood up: "Your Excellency, please control your language; this is not your workshop."
Elias Thorn looked up at him: "This place is even messier than my workshop."
The hall fell silent.
He continued, “You have always treated the nobility as a belief system, thinking that as long as your lineage is pure enough, your magic ancient enough, and your speech slow enough, you are entitled to remain unchallenged.”
“But you are not gods. You are lazy gatekeepers, standing at the threshold of power, yet only allowing those with the right surnames to enter.”
“You repeatedly claim that ‘pure blood has preserved civilization,’ but all I see is you using the word ‘pure’ to mask your anxiety over your own lack of knowledge and ability.”
He tapped his rusted pickaxe lightly against the floor, the echo reverberating throughout the assembly hall.
At that moment, the Emotion Recognition Sphere Beta rolled out from the audience seats with a clang and activated its projection:
On the screen appeared records of dozens of instances over the past thirteen years where nobles suppressed commoners' applications for magic, each stamped with a bright red Noble Seal.
“This is a document voluntarily reviewed by the Noble Council,” the Emotion Recognition Sphere Beta stated. “We do not comment on the content; we merely project ‘the words you have spoken yourselves.’”
Elias Thorn sighed and turned to several core Members seated in high positions: “You think you are villains. You are not.”
“You can’t even be considered decent villains.”
“You have no ideals, no logic, not even a script. You have simply sat in power for too long, believing that is what it means to be elevated.”
“Real villains should at least possess some charm. But you? You have only documents and seals.”
The assembly was dead silent.
In that moment, no one dared to meet the gaze of this middle-aged man whose hair was somewhat disheveled, whose tone was slightly mad, yet whose eyes burned like fire.
“You’ve ruined your own career,” someone whispered.
“That’s your career, not mine,” Elias Thorn replied softly. “My career is my wife. After she died, I resigned long ago.”
That day, he turned and walked out of the assembly hall without waiting for applause.
But he left behind a statement that was recorded by all Magic News Agency reporters on the scene: “I did not come here to make you change your words; I came to remind you—someone hears every single piece of nonsense you say.”
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