Beta Town.

Wanderers’ Bar Hall.

A guest wearing a black cloak walked through the bustling crowd, reached the bar counter, took out a slender parchment scroll, and handed it to the Multi-arm Tribe Attendant behind the counter.

The attendant extended a hand from behind, took the scroll, unfolded it, and carefully examined it, focusing on the small Septagram symbol at the end of the scroll.

"The key is correct, here is your item, please keep it safe."

The attendant finally approved of the scroll’s mark, took out a black wooden box from beneath the counter, and pushed it towards the guest: "Would you like a Sea Monster Langmu?"

"No, thank you."

A deep voice came from beneath the hood, the guest took the wooden box, turned around, and left the Wanderers’ Bar directly. The billowing cloak seemed to spread wings like a raven into the night, disappearing in the thick shadow of the street corner in the blink of an eye.

The cloak passed through winding alleys, glided over the babbling Silent River, along the edge of the Protect Legal Formation outward, without alerting the patrolling troops on the street or the magical beings in the river, and finally disappeared quietly into the depths of Silent Forest.

The Silent Forest at night was not silent.

The next day was Awakening of Insects, and from the depths of the humus layer, the insect beasts awakened greedily to suck in the breath of spring. Tree Elves crawling out of holes and bats recklessly hunted these newly awakened insects under the cover of night; by the waterside, there were kappas with round discs on their heads, under the trees, there were spirit monsters wearing red hats, and Houdou with eyes like fire coals, in groups of three or five, whistled through the forest, chasing raccoon forces whose cries sounded like barking.

Further deep in Silent Forest, from extremely distant places, vague roars of giants and the hissing of Fire Dragons echoed, becoming the most authentic background sound of this large and complex biological system.

The cloak entering the forest carefully avoided the hunting areas of the Horseman Tribe and the territory where Minotaurs wandered, following magic power markers to finally reach a somewhat noisy camp.

This was a small camp of the Ogre Tribe, where only an old Priest and fewer than ten adult ogres remained. In the perilous Silent Forest, such tribes were the easiest to form and the easiest to disappear.

At this moment, the old priest of the Ogre Tribe was dancing a solemn prayer dance around the Magic Flame, the young head under its chin muttering indistinctly the prayer words spoken by the main head, the double chanting voices swirling around the campfire, stirring up waves of beautiful and harmonious resonance, making the campfire burn more vigorously, exuding scorching heat that intimidated the lurking gaze in the surrounding darkness.

This magical flame was the fundamental reason this small tribe could survive night after night of silence.

The cloak from the Wanderers’ Bar silently stopped outside the Ogre Tribe camp under a tall Return Soul Poplar, stood quietly for a moment, the air in front of him rippled like water waves.

Professor Montreya’s figure slowly appeared in front of the cloak.

The cloak removed the hood, revealing Gan Ning’s slightly pale round face.

"Brought the item, Professor." He lowered his head slightly, his voice unwavering, holding the wooden box from Wanderers’ Bar in the hands emerging from the cloak.

The professor raised his arm, but instead of immediately taking the box, he reached over to Gan Ning’s shoulder, flicked lightly, brushing off a Return Soul Poplar ’Seed’ that had somehow crawled onto his shoulder.

Snap!

The Return Soul Poplar ’Seed’, like a caterpillar, burst into dust mid-air, then fluttered down, leaving a small grayish-white mark on the young wizard’s shoulder.

"Sorry, Professor, it was my oversight." Gan Ning buried his already lowered head even lower.

Professor Montreya glanced over him, took the wooden box, his tone calm: "Neglect represents an accident. But this is not an accident... We rarely want to accept accidents caused by our own negligence, preferring to blame others for the cause of accidents. It’s not a good habit."

Meanwhile, he had already opened the box, took out a stack of parchment from inside, flipping through them one by one.

Though the light in the forest was dim, for a Big Wizard, there was no difference here compared to daylight. He frowned, scanning through the box’s documents at ten lines per glance, showing a noncommittal expression until he saw the detailed records of the tracked target, and he slightly nodded.

"As a student secret society, to obtain so much confidential information shows they have put in effort." The professor simply reviewed, then his tone turned: "What about the target’s flesh or hair?"

Gan Ning hesitated for a few seconds.

"They haven’t succeeded yet," the young wizard responded in a low voice, "because the target has been ’seed’ enhanced, their physical quality has greatly improved... Normal means can hardly obtain his biological information."

"Then use some abnormal methods," the professor flipped the parchments back, his gaze returned to the center of the Ogre Camp in the forest, his voice low yet firm: "Such as frenzied Blood Servants and Werewolves, out-of-control Man-hitting Willows, exploding crucibles and test tubes, duels driven mad by love, or free physical check-ups, etc... A student having a small, ordinary accident at school is very normal."

"Yes, Professor."

"Do you think I’m obsessed with a low-tier experimental subject who isn’t even a registered wizard?"

"No, Professor."

"No, you do, and others do too." Professor Montreya calmly corrected the subordinate’s lip service, his tone indifferent: "Because you have not experienced the power of high-tier seeds, do not understand how terribly the force that erodes a wizard’s existence from the conceptual level is... And how precious a wizard that can resist that distortion force is. Do you remember Walter?"

Gan Ning silently nodded.

As the Black Wizard who replaced the Raven and died under the joint slaughter of the school and the Trident Sword, Walter’s name has recently become a Saint among the Ravens, especially with the powerful capabilities he exhibited post-transformation—knowing well that before transformation he was only a dead end, aging registered wizard—made every Raven resolute on their direction.

"Walter’s will is very firm, his mind mature and very tenacious, possessing extensive Black Magic knowledge and sufficient Magic Power accumulation. Therefore, he was chosen by me as the experimental subject... Hence, he could easily break the shackles post-transformation, even advancing to become a top-tier Big Wizard at one go."

During these words, Professor Montreya raised his arm, his wide robe sleeve slipped, revealing a section of pale, emaciated arm, Gan Ning didn’t raise his head, but the corner of his eye clearly saw something seemed to surge under the professor’s emaciated skin. When he focused, he saw nothing, as if the earlier scene was just an illusion created by flashes from the Ogre Camp fire beyond the forest.