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墨書 Inktalez
"Sweet Flower Mist? What a great thing! Give me one!"
"Ah, the blessing for those who struggle to sleep! I really want it too. Who understands the pain of wanting to sleep but not being able to? (tears)."
"Well, isn't it said that ordinary people fall asleep just by smelling the mist? Why do we need the fruit? Wouldn't it be better to keep a plant at home?"
"Ha! Smell it and sleep, but if you keep it at home and breathe it in all day, isn't that just like lying down for eternal rest?"
The audience's comments flooded in, and the company's cameras cleverly captured several scenes of students using the fruit to fall asleep.
Viewers saw some students resolutely muttering about avenging their village, swallowing the fruit in one gulp before collapsing into slumber; others looked troubled, pacing back and forth, gazing out at the moon, and finally sighing softly as they hesitated before eating the fruit to sleep; still others were invigorated, actively discussing battle tactics with their roommates when suddenly one roommate shoved a fruit into their hands, saying they wouldn’t be able to get up if they didn’t sleep soon.
The various interactions and expressions among the students brought about waves of laughter in the comments.
Then the camera shifted entirely, moving to the desolate wilderness surrounding Truth School.
The wilderness, a considerable distance from Truth School, was dark and eerie. The surrounding dark elements made it difficult for even the bright moonlight to penetrate and illuminate this land.
A group of Evil Mages gathered here, behaving unusually; instead of being on guard against each other, they were chatting and laughing, with many taking the opportunity to discuss their research findings.
Thanks to Covenant Magic, ensuring that no one would harbor murderous intent or turn each other into research material, the Evil Mages felt as if spring had arrived. It was truly a time when everything flourished, and whatever they did brought them joy.
Previously confined to solitary research, now they could share ideas with others. If they could guide someone else and earn admiring glances from fellow Evil Mages, their hearts would swell with satisfaction.
Some even made plans to head to a big city together once things settled at Truth School, eager for a thrilling hunt. Previously, trips to big cities felt wasteful since they couldn’t use up all their materials; now they weren’t worried about that—splitting profits among three Evil Mages was no problem at all.
Moreover, some Evil Mages thought of particularly good Magic Items they had struggled for ages to gather materials for; this time they could easily trade items and gather what they needed, feeling ecstatic about it.
They remembered those who helped them get here. The current joy of the Evil Mages was largely thanks to their leader who obtained the Oath of the Covenant and replicated Covenant Magic.
Occasionally passing Evil Mages greeted their leader enthusiastically—a man with sinister patterns on either side of his face.
Mr. Croft.
Good night, Mr. Croft.
Kefute responded casually until a figure in a black robe approached him, prompting him to adopt a serious demeanor. "Arezat, what news?"
The person referred to as Arezat was the same one who had previously gone to invite the White Snake Elder. Sixty Evil Mages from the Flying Dragon Kingdom had arrived. They had reached their designated location and were preparing to launch an attack on Truth School when the rain began.
The remaining Evil Mages from the Flying Dragon Kingdom seemed to be hiding too well; they were proving difficult to locate. Arezat was considered Kefute's confidant. The two had met by chance in a tomb, where they unexpectedly obtained the original scroll of the Oath of the Covenant.
Fascinated by the exploration of the tomb, Arezat willingly followed Kefute, impressed by his magical skills and talents. He took many Covenant Magic Scrolls crafted by Kefute and traveled far and wide in search of allies among the Evil Mages.
"It's fine," Kefute said confidently, his dark eyes gleaming with an unspoken bloodlust. "This is already more than enough."
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