"What is a mere student? What is a family? What does it matter if we destroy a nation to bury that kind of thing?"
“Guo…” Ge Fei’s hands trembled, his eyelids twitched, and his voice trembled. How cold-blooded and ruthless must one be to say such a thing?
"Forty thousand years ago, wasn't the Baya Kingdom destroyed because of that?" the white-robed man sneered, but as he spoke, even his tone lost its composure, for that was the beginning of everything, the origin of all calamities.
The dean stared at his palm, his soul trembling.
"Is it me, that I've lost my resolve?"
On his way to the Han family, Huo Yang received a magical letter secretly sent to him by Han Tun under the guise of squatting in the toilet.
Strangely, the Han family still hasn't confiscated his magic book, much like a pervert who illegally imprisoned a girl thoughtfully left her a landline phone so she and her family could chat and relieve boredom.
Something's very wrong, really very wrong. What are these Han family members thinking? Are they really that stupid, or are they absolutely fearless?
Huo Yang, however, hoped it was the former, which was extremely unlikely, because it meant he still had a glimmer of hope.
On the rooftop of a building outside the Han family compound, Huo Yang opened the magic book and clicked on the letter.
[Holy crap! They dressed me in a suit, one of those old-fashioned ones, the kind that looks like it's hundreds of years old and smells musty. They even sent a document to my spellbook! What the hell does this mean?!]
[Oh right, I think I know where they're going to hold the ceremony, if they really are... I have a room in my house that's been sealed off for hundreds of years, it should be there!]
[Then they told me that something very important was waiting for me at midnight, which I guess was the time for the ceremony?]
[You...you need to be careful. If it doesn't work out, just forget it. You're my only friend.]
Han Tun, who is chubby, outgoing, good-tempered, generous, and comes from a powerful family, usually has many friends at the academy, but only Huo Yang showed up.
Han Tun sent this letter only to Huo Yang, because it was too easy to distinguish between true friends and scoundrels in this situation.
From his eyes, his tone, and his attitude, everything he said conveyed a sense of rejection, which was no longer just an implication. Every person he had contacted before had either run away or refused, finding various excuses to avoid the issue.
He could only see determination in Huo Yang's eyes.
Huo Yang himself was at level three in strength. Although Huo Yang was his friend, he was too weak. So, after a busy day, he finally approached Huo Yang.
“Yes, I’m your only friend.” Huo Yang put away his magic book and looked at the lights in the Han family’s house not far away. They were bright lights in the dark night, with a gentle glow, but they concealed a deep, predatory aura.
"So if I don't step in, no one will come to save you."
Huo Yang's gaze was firm, like a petrel about to brave the raging waves.
A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, and his fingers, nimble as butterflies, traced magical runes that intertwined, resonated, echoed, coordinated, and coalesced.
A powerful yet silent gust of wind rose up, lifting the boy's body and gently swaying him toward the deep, quiet courtyard, where brightly lit houses stood to the side.
...
The artistic conception is spot on, but reality is much harsher.
Just as they flew into the area of the Han family compound, a silvery-white figure shot into the sky. It was a warrior enveloped in silver battle aura, who kicked Huo Yang down with a casual kick.
The known level cap for mages is eight, but those above level six are not currently seen in the mortal realm. Warriors, due to the loss of some inherited knowledge, have a level cap of only five. Therefore, cultivation in this world is still primarily focused on mages.
He was just a level four Silver Warrior, powerful in close combat; within ten steps, no mage of the same level could match him.
“Mr. Huoyang.” An old man stood in front of him, humbly and sincerely extending his hand to help the young man up: “Since you, young master’s friend, have come, please come with me to tour the Han family. I am the butler Lin Shan, you can call me Old Lin.”
Huo Yang grabbed his neck with a swift movement, giving the surrounding Silver Warriors a threatening look: "If you want him to live—"
Old Lin didn't say anything, but golden battle aura emanated from his body.
Huo Yang: "..."
"Haha, since I'm already here, let me visit the Han family."
Huo Yang naturally let go of her hand and chatted and laughed with the old butler.
"Please follow me." Old Lin's expression remained unchanged as he smiled kindly.
The old butler straightened his wrinkled clothes, took a half step forward, and bowed to those ahead, saying, "Mr. Huoyang, please follow me."
Next, Lao Lin walked in front, taking a step or two ahead, while Huo Yang walked in the middle, with several guards standing behind him.
In any case, there wasn't one he could beat.
As a result, both host and guests enjoyed themselves immensely, a truly joyous occasion.
"Two hours and 14 minutes"
Huo Yang kept track of time in his mind. Besides magic, mages rely on mental power. With his current mental strength, he could keep track of time silently in his mind, with an error of less than half a minute per hour.
This is not an active timer, but a default timer.
The warm yellow light cast a bright glow, illuminating the space ahead. At both ends of the corridor were oil paintings, each protected by several layers of magic. Judging from the ancient style of the paintings, they were works from hundreds of years ago. However, as you walked further in, the paintings became increasingly modern.
This corridor is the Han family's Hall of Fame, a symbol of the family's history and glory. The oil paintings record some of the major events and important figures that the Han family has experienced from its founding 400 years ago to the present day.
The atmosphere was heavy, filled with a profound sense of history.
Huo Yang felt like he was visiting a museum, but this one was a private, family-run one.
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