Cultivators at the Wizarding Academy

Chapter 114 No one is innocent

"What we did was not a sacrifice, not a redemption, but a false desire born from their self-gratification."

"Forcing others to sacrifice and dedicate themselves to one's ideals is, in essence, a form of distortion and evil."

"We are born to live for ourselves and have the right to choose our own destiny..."

"For freedom and dignity, even death is acceptable."

"Don't be afraid, just think of it as a nap that you never woke up again..."

Elaine recalled the whispers of her sisters, who had once depended on each other for survival.

Later, she secretly ran away. This act caused a stir at Florence Sisters.

Elaine had never seen the High Nun roar so loudly and disrespectfully, her face contorted like a demon.

Everyone was forced to go hungry for three days, to experience the pain of hunger, and all their clothes were taken away, so they could feel the chill of autumn.

Later, it was said that the sisters who had escaped had starved to death outside. The monastery brought back a rotting corpse for everyone to see. From then on, no one ever mentioned the escape again.

They were like a herd of wild boars kept in a pen, waiting to grow plump and be slaughtered...

The two carriages came to a sudden stop, nearly colliding.

The short, stout foreman in charge of driving was furious and exasperated: "Who is it?"

A slender male swordsman, dressed in a white swordsman's uniform, gently placed his palm on the head of a burly demon horse.

The familiar handsome face will be recognized immediately by anyone who frequently watches the gladiator channel.

"Tiniham, the Hundred Flowers Swordsman, what brings you here?"

Considering the opponent's recent undefeated record in the arena, the manager had to show him some respect.

After all, he was no ordinary elite; his strength was generally recognized as comparable to that of a super-elite powerhouse.

"Girls on the bus! Don't complain or blame others. Fate is giving you a chance. Choose to accept your original fate or get off the bus and come with me."

The Hundred Flowers Swordsman's voice was magnetic and very pleasant to the ear. Although his tone was calm and not particularly passionate, it had a strange charm.

The girls all peeked out of the car windows to get a better look.

"Tiniham! Do you know what you're doing? Making enemies of the nobles of the capital!" The short, stout steward raised his voice, "Don't think that just because you have some strength you can act recklessly! Now get out of my way..."

"What if I say no?" The Hundred Flowers Swordsman narrowed his eyes and slowly drew his slender sword from his waist.

"With so many expensive goods, you don't think we haven't been guarding them, do you?" The short, stout manager grinned sinisterly.

In an instant, figures leaped out from all directions.

Seven elite-level warriors attacked simultaneously, including a spellcaster hidden in the shadows.

The Hundred Flowers Swordsman curled his lips in disdain.

"That's all..."

In fact, the name of the Hundred Flowers Swordsmen is indeed closely related to the Hundred Flowers Convent.

Thirty years ago, the Florence Convent was originally called the Florence Monastery.

The goal remains the same: to select children with outstanding appearance and qualities from orphanages across the country to serve the kingdom's high-ranking figures. This will generate funding to support even more orphans.

Undoubtedly, while the majority of people are heterosexual, there is always a minority with heterosexual orientations.

Moreover, handsome boys are more popular with lonely noblewomen, and because of their scarcity, they are far more sought after than girls.

Tinyham, the swordsman of a hundred flowers, was the illegitimate son of a collateral branch of a noble family. His mother was a beautiful cook. As he aged and lost his beauty, he gradually lost the favor of the nobleman and was subsequently ostracized and humiliated by his mistress, eventually dying in despair.

Young and naive, Tiniham lost his mother's protection and could not stand in his home. He was driven out by his mistress and sent to an orphanage. Later, thanks to his outstanding appearance, he was favored by the Florence Monastery.

A tragic fate was destined to be changed entirely by awakening to talent.

That night, Tiniham found an opportunity to escape.

Using his status as a spellcaster, he quickly established himself in the capital, obtained resources for cultivation, and gradually grew to his current level.

The reason for choosing to cultivate both magic and martial arts is actually not as complicated as you might imagine; it's all simply to pursue greater power...

The earth churned and churned, and a giant rock hand, formed by shapeshifting magic, appeared, called the Shattered Grip. It gripped an elite-level warrior tightly, and then mercilessly pierced his heart with a sword.

Whether it's physical attributes, battle aura quality, combat experience, or tactics, they completely overwhelm the opponent, making it difficult for ordinary elites to even stand a chance against them.

Silver flames burned around Tinyham, who calmly faced the siege of many elite-level warriors like a war god.

In the blink of an eye, another person was killed, and the rest were terrified and dared not make any rash moves.

He was overconfident, seemingly possessing far more than his apparent abilities.

"Go! Hold on a little longer, some big shot will be here to deal with him soon!"

The short, stout steward was chattering on the side, but he never expected that he would be struck in the throat by a sword the next second, and he would clutch his neck and groan incoherently.

"Nonsense!" The Hundred Flowers Swordsman, Tinyham, his eyes cold and indifferent, turned his back to the elite group behind him, looking at the carriage with a haughty expression. "Come on! Isn't there anyone willing to defy their fate? To be their true selves?"

A commotion broke out in the carriage, and many girls stood up, trying to jump off the train.

Elaine was one of them.

A cold laugh echoed in everyone's hearts.

"That little mouse who escaped back then dares to come back and provoke us? Don't think I'll forget about you..."

High Sister Grace stood silently under the night sky, exuding an eerie and inexplicable aura. Her gaunt figure was shrouded in a long black robe, and she held a wand made from the bones of an unknown creature.

Because of Tinyham's report, Florence Sisters narrowly escaped annihilation and were once considered heretics. They were forced to cease their pedophile practices and change their name to a convent. Only through much negotiation did they escape extermination by the Night's Watch and other conservative organizations.

"I swore I would not pursue this matter any further! But since you came to provoke me, my oath is now null and void."

Suddenly, countless invisible mage hands sprouted from the cuffs of High Sister Grace's sleeves. Unlike the attribute-less mage hands of ordinary spellcasters, her mage hands were dark blue, dark purple, and black, clearly having been specially enhanced through some secret technique.

"Broken Grip!" Tinyham murmured.

The earth trembled, and rocky arms burst forth from the ground. Compared to Greta's silent and deadly killing intent, Tinyham's offensive was massive.

"So that's how it is. Your audacity stems from advancing to the Super Rank?" Grace said with a look of sudden realization.

The moment the two collided, the elite warriors around them scattered like birds and beasts. Only the spellcaster remained, still watching from the shadows.

"Tiniham was indeed hiding his true strength."

He didn't dare to act immediately for fear of being targeted. Even a fool knows to kill the spellcaster first in a fight.

Moreover, the seven warriors blocking the way didn't seem reliable. If they failed to stop Tinyham immediately, they would be the ones to die.

Therefore, the correct course of action is to call for help.

Before leaving, High Priestess Grazia gave him an inscribed token that could call for backup; it could be activated immediately by injecting magic into it.

"No one can change their fate."

"Only by willingly dedicating oneself to filth can one please the great God."

"Tiniham, you can't even save yourself..."

The giant rock hand collided with the invisible hand, creating a scene resembling an earthquake.

The night watchmen who maintained order in the capital city at night rushed to the scene upon hearing the news.

Realizing the unfavorable situation, Tiniham sighed helplessly, "Is there really no one left?"

Elaine wanted to jump out of the car, but couldn't take a step. She wanted to shout, but couldn't make a sound. She felt as if her body didn't belong to her.

The power to shake the soul is applied silently, making it a waste of its potential to deal with ordinary people.

Tiniham didn't notice anything unusual at all, only vaguely sensing that someone's will was releasing resentment.

"Come out! Hurry up!"

The Hundred Flowers Swordsman kept sending out telepathic messages urging him on, but when he sensed someone approaching from behind, he was forced to activate his teleportation ability.

The three-dimensional body instantly transformed into a flat two-dimensional form, disappearing into the spatial crevices.

The spell of soul-shaking was lifted, and everyone inside the carriage regained their mobility. For a moment, the sound of heavy breathing filled the air.

When Elaine learned that Tinyham had left, large tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

A moment's hesitation resulted in missing a chance to change one's destiny.

At this moment, the pain and regret in her heart were indescribable, as if her heart had been shattered, convulsing violently.

I want to die right now...

"Don't cry, children. Face your destiny with equanimity." High Sister Grace descended from the sky, her smile as gentle as the wind, taking over the position of coachman.

Despite some unexpected events on the way, the carriage arrived at the Night Whisper Hotel on time.

Regarding the distribution, the Belland family had already decided to use a lottery.

With so many people attending the banquet, it's difficult to coordinate directly and it's easy to offend people.

Each girl is given a numbered mask, and guests can exchange numbers after drawing the lottery.

More than a hundred people stood in three rows on the stage in the hall. The people in the front row squatted down, the people in the middle row held their knees, and the people in the back row stood up straight.

The men in the audience had bright eyes and were whispering among themselves.

Rumors in the royal capital say that the Belland family never disappoints. Whenever they entertain important guests, they always present pure and beautiful young girls.

"But this time, there are more than a hundred people attending the banquet! Won't the quality of the attendees vary?" one guest expressed concern.

"No, you can rest assured." Viscount Beant smiled slightly.

The hotel manager brought over a raffle box, personally carried it to the guests' seats, and asked them to draw a number.

Some people couldn't wait to leave their seats and crowd around, afraid that if they were a step too late, the good luck wouldn't be theirs.

Elaine's number was fifty-seven, and she was in the middle row. She lowered her head like a quail, as if afraid someone would see her.

Suddenly, I heard women exclaiming in surprise.

The black-haired girl opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by darkness; the magic lamp above her head had quietly gone out at some point.

"What happened?"

"It's possible that the energy storage magic stone has run out of energy, causing a single magic lamp to break down, but it won't affect the operation of the other magic lamps."

"What a disappointment!"

"The Dalgren family actually made such a basic mistake..."

"It was just a minor mishap, it'll be fine soon. Everyone, please be patient. Caster, please use the Light spell first!" Hotel manager Rodney quickly spoke up.

There is one spellcaster on standby at the hotel, and there are also several spellcasters among the guests.

However, no one is responding right now.

An eerie silence...

Some people sensed something was wrong and secretly became more vigilant, glancing around nervously.

The bright moonlight shone through the French windows and spilled onto the ground.

The screen of the transceiver watch in his hand also emitted light.

Everything is normal! No…

The bone blade pierced through his body from behind. He clearly felt his life slipping away. He raised his hand to try to hold on, but ultimately collapsed to the ground in despair.

According to Tai'an's observation, none of the high-ranking officials or nobles present were innocent!

I was initially worried that I had killed the wrong innocent person.

It now seems that good people will not come to the banquet and will instead collude with the Belland family.

"Clear them all! Ovisga, don't let any of the mental coordinates I set go unpunished."

After the magic lamp went out, the skeletal angels hidden in the shadows waited for their chance to strike.

The primary target is not the high-ranking combatants, but the spellcasters!

Raise the skeletal hand, fingertips locking onto the target.

Secret technique: Piercing bullets through finger bones!

Before the five spellcasters could react, they were simultaneously pierced through the forehead and the back of the head.

Within Ovisca's palm, bone blades rapidly grew; the killing was about to begin.

Silent and deadly.

Her killing technique was an art, as graceful and skillful as a farmer cutting straw, as rhythmic as a musician's every move.

Between breaths, the only sound was the dull thud of people falling down.

"There's an assassin!"

Finally, someone among the guests realized what was happening, and with a shout, chaos erupted.

Flames of various colors ignited, and the warriors emitted a faint glow around them.

One of the swordsmen, possessing rare light-attribute battle aura, was like a magic lamp, radiating light that almost illuminated the entire hall.

As everyone could see, a dark figure was killing indiscriminately at a speed that was difficult for the naked eye to perceive.

A black cloak billowed, delivering a fatal blow from all sorts of unbelievable and bizarre angles.

It's hard to believe that in such a short time, more than twenty people had fallen!

"All Super-Rank beings, follow me into battle!"

James, the city's security officer, confident in his strength, brandished his inscribed sword and charged at the enemy.

The inscribed sword, burning with dark red flames, slashed down heavily. The figure shrouded in black robes gracefully evaded the attack.

The earth split open a ravine, and the flames shattered wooden tables dozens of meters long, even turning sturdy tempered glass into dust.

"Ah! Drink..."

James attempted to turn and strike, but then remembered there were other guests behind him, so he had to stop his attack.

A surge of blood and qi coursed through her, and her face flushed.

Like a tiger among sheep, Ovisca dances a death dance amidst the crowd.

Her graceful dance moves were no less captivating than Liadrin's in the snowy night. Every second, a lucky audience member was chosen to accompany death.

It was a one-sided massacre; the elites, who were usually respected and admired, had no chance to resist or fight back.

Those who reacted quickly rushed off the field like madmen.

On the long street, another figure shrouded in a black robe stood quietly under the beautiful moonlight.

The demonic sword in his hand released a negative energy field that distorted light.

(End of this chapter)