Do ratmen dream of the sacred tree of spirits?

Chapter 94 Sudden Rise

Tyrell was in a hurry to renovate the school in order to impress the delegation. Now that the delegation is not coming, he has not only lost the opportunity to impress, but may also get into trouble over the issue of project funds. What will Bishop Leyton think of him?

A subordinate who was incompetent and caused him to lose 260 pounds in funding?

Fafnir recalled Kingsley's words, "In three years, Bishop Leyton will be transferred," at which point Fafnir wouldn't have to care about Tyrell's words anymore. But now it seemed that Tyrell might not even last those three years.

The afternoon Tyrell was summoned by Bishop Leyton, he returned and locked himself in his office. The next day, the construction workers stopped coming, and no one was taking care of the building materials at the school gate. Tyrell seemed like a different person. He no longer wore his handsome formal attire, but instead wore a wrinkled robe, his hair was messy, and his eyes were bloodshot.

In the following days, Fafnir clearly sensed that Tyrell had changed.

He arrived earlier and left later than before, but his "early" arrival wasn't for work.

Fafnir saw Tyrell standing in the corridor, his hands behind his back, his face long and drawn, staring at every student and teacher who passed by.

Luca ran out of the classroom to go to the bathroom, but was stopped by him. "Why are you running? Is school a place for you to run around?"

Luca was so frightened that he stood frozen in place, his legs trembling. Fafnir came out of the classroom, saw what was happening, and went over to explain, "Mr. Gideon, he just went to the restroom."

Tyrell glanced at Fafnir, said nothing, and turned to leave.

Luca's eyes were red-rimmed, and he asked softly, "Professor Fafnir, who was that person?"

Fafnir shook his head: "You don't need to worry about him, go ahead."

At lunchtime, Ms. Anna sat down next to Fafnir with her bowl in hand and said in a low voice, "This morning, Gideon came to my class and stood at the back for half the lesson. When get out of class ended, he told me that I was lecturing too slowly and the students couldn't understand."

Fafnir has been teaching outdoors these past few days. Some classrooms are piled high with building materials and tools that need cleaning. In the afternoons, after his tutoring sessions, Fafnir was tidying up the blackboards and benches in the alleyway.

The children gradually dispersed, but a few remained playing by the roadside. Fafnir didn't urge them. Fafnir was almost ready to pack up and was about to return to the grammar school when he heard a scream coming from deep within the alley, which was quickly covered up.

It wasn't a joking scream; it was a terrifying, piercing sound. Fafnir quickly put down what he was holding and hurried into the alley. As he turned the corner, he saw Tyrell crouching against the wall, with a girl standing in front of him.

Fafner couldn't recall the girl's name. She wasn't a regular student; she was one of the forty-odd children who came for tutoring every afternoon. He remembered her face—round, thin, with blond hair always tied in two thin braids—but he couldn't recall her name. There were too many children in the informal tutoring class; he couldn't teach them all by himself, and he hadn't even memorized all their names.

At this moment, she was leaning against the wall, her body curled up in a ball, her hands tightly gripping her collar. Her clothes were a little messy, her braids were loose, and her hair was disheveled and hanging over her face.

Tyrell had one hand on her shoulder and the other on her wrist, saying something in a low voice that Fafnir couldn't hear.

When the girl saw Fafnir, her eyes immediately reddened, her lips trembled, and she cried out, "Teacher—!"

Tyrell turned his head, saw Fafnir, paused for a moment, released his grip, and stood up.

"Oh, it's Fafnir. This student just tripped and fell; I'm just helping her up."

Before he could finish speaking, Fafnir had already rushed forward.

Without using any magic, he punched Tyrell in the face. Tyrell, not expecting him to attack, staggered back two steps and crashed into the wall, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"Are you crazy?" Tyrell covered his mouth, his voice muffled.

Fafnir did not answer. He felt he could no longer contain his anger, so he took a step back, closed his eyes, and entered a meditative state.

Spiritual threads appeared in his mind, and without hesitation, he infused them with spirituality.

Spiritual threads appeared in his mind, and the spell structure of Fireball instantly took shape. Without hesitation, he infused it with spiritual energy, condensing fire and compressing wind. A white fireball flew from his palm and struck Tyrell in the chest.

"boom""

Tyrell was blasted away and crashed into the brick wall behind him. A large part of his clothes was burned, a section of his chest caved in, and he gushed blood from his mouth. He slumped against the wall, his eyes lifeless.

Several children who hadn't left yet stood at a distance, frozen in fear. The girl leaned against the wall, trembling all over, tears streaming silently down her face. One of her shoes had fallen off, leaving her bare foot on the ground.

After a while, he said to a terrified boy next to him, "Go to the nearest police station and call the night patrolman."

The boy left immediately, and Fafnir turned to the girl, lowering his voice: "Where do you live?"

The girl sobbed and pointed deeper into the alley.

"Go back first. The teacher will handle today's matter. You don't need to be afraid of anything."

The girl nodded, bent down to pick up the lost shoe, and walked barefoot into the alley. After a few steps, she turned back to look at Fafnir.

Fafnir stood there, watching her figure disappear around the corner of the alley. He looked down at his hand; there was a cut on his knuckles, and blood stained the cuff of his priest's robe.

Footsteps came from the alley entrance. Teacher Anna ran over, panting. When she saw the scene in the corner and Tyrell lying there, her face turned pale.

"Fafner, you—"

"It's alright, I called the night watchman," Fafnir said.

A little while later, Martha and Allen also ran over, and their faces turned pale when they saw the scene before them.

A little while later, hurried footsteps came from the alley entrance, and two uniformed night patrolmen arrived. The one in the lead was a middle-aged man whom Fafnir did not recognize.

Who reported the incident?

"Me," Fafnir said.

The night watchman glanced at Tyrell, who was slumped against the wall, then at the silver raven feather on Fafnir's chest, and frowned.

"What's going on?"

"You can look into what he did to my students yourselves," Fafner said, his voice trembling.

The night watchman crouched down to check Tyrell's condition, then stood up and glanced at Fafnir: "You did this?"

"Yes."

"Are you a Level 4 priest?"

"Yes."

"Go to the police station now."

Fafnir nodded and followed them outside.

A carriage was parked at the alley entrance. Fafnir got in and sat on the hard seat. The carriage passed through the old streets of the East District, turned onto the main road, and headed towards the city center.

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