The Cornflower Witch
Book 3: Chapter 118: "Obsidian Codex·Supplement"
A few minutes later, Sylutia and the others descended from the rooftop, landing in this alleyway.
She first checked Rogers' injuries and found they weren't serious—mostly superficial wounds. She gave him two more healing potions, then asked about what had started the whole affair.
Leaning against the wall, Rogers slowly recounted his experiences under the curious gazes of the gathered apprentices.
Like many young people in the Mage Alliance, he'd grown up in a remote village. One day, mages recruiting apprentices came to his village, and he learned about this powerful and dignified profession.
Full of longing and ambition, he studied hard and finally earned admission to a nearby town school.
According to standard procedure, if he performed well at this school and maintained good results, he could take the exams after a few years, receive an invitation letter, and gain entry to one of the three major college districts.
Unfortunately, an accident derailed everything. He got into a conflict with another student at the school. That student came from a powerful family and had Rogers expelled, thus losing his chance to enter the three major college districts through normal channels.
After leaving that town, he had to seek education elsewhere. But due to his identity and record, no one would vouch for him, making normal enrollment nearly impossible. Learning magic-related knowledge through formal schools was cheaper, with reasonable tuition fees. But if he had to seek private tutoring or purchase books, the funds required were far beyond what an ordinary person could afford.
So, trapped by poverty, he had to pursue cheaper sources of knowledge. That's how he gradually came into contact with members of those small, low-requirement schools. They mostly hid in corners of big cities, selling knowledge and secret arts at relatively low prices. But this knowledge was often imprecise, and the secret arts were full of holes and gaps—far inferior to proper schools.
He had no choice, though. He had to make do. As he interacted more with these people, he learned that many small schools were based in Branuir, where one could relatively easily obtain what they wanted.
"So you came here and made a group of like-minded companions?" Marg asked curiously, sizing him up.
"That's right." Rogers sighed. "I thought everyone was a good person. Now I realize I was just naive."
"If you'd stayed as you were before, maybe you could've remained good friends forever."
"But you just had to try to break free from your current identity, and that stung them." Xavier adjusted his glasses. "You were all the same before. Doing this forces them to confront the pain they've been ignoring and hiding all along. Your light and success will only cause them pain, not bring them blessings."
"I was wrong." Rogers had finally come to understand.
"What will you do now? Really go to the big city to study? As noble as that ideal sounds, given your current situation, no Fourth Tier mage would dare vouch for you or write a recommendation letter."
"Never mind entering an official school academy—even getting into the three major college districts like ordinary apprentices would be extremely difficult." Someone pointed out the reality.
Under the Mage Alliance's current system, training so many mage apprentices required consuming massive resources. They naturally became picky and weren't very kind to those who'd missed their chance or aged out.
"If you can teach yourself and reach Third Tier, maybe you could enter some school's outer organization. Then you could slowly learn and continue on this path." Someone offered an analysis.
"Even among the students in the three major college districts, not everyone ends up in an advanced academy. Many go directly to outer institutions, workshops, or merchant guilds."
"Looks like that's my only option." Rogers thanked the group for their help.
"Thank you. May I ask who they are?"
"You are... members of a large school from very far away, here for an exchange." Marg glanced at the surrounding apprentices and stepped forward to explain proactively.
"This dumb shorty who helped you just now isn't one of your group." As she said this, Reginson walked over, clearly displeased with that description.
"What do you mean 'dumb shorty'? Just because I advanced a bit later than you?"
He hadn't advanced yet, while Marg was already an Official Mage at Third Tier.
Among this batch of new students, Reginson's strength ranked roughly 50-60th. Though not at the top, this was relative to Tetis College's internal standards. In any other school or academy, he'd be a rare genius.
He was very close to advancing—probably after this vacation trip, he could begin his advancement ritual.
Seeing the apprentices taking turns asking questions and talking, Sylutia stood at the back without stepping forward.
After Rogers finished speaking with the others, his gaze finally noticed the girl standing behind. She wore a light black summer dress, with beautiful, well-proportioned legs. Even just a silhouette revealed rare beauty and an flawless aura.
This must be the book-reading girl he'd glimpsed when being beaten up. He really wanted to get to know her, but unfortunately, she seemed to be a Third Tier Official Mage. He probably wasn't qualified to even ask.
After finishing the conversation, Rogers felt he should leave. He bid everyone farewell and prepared to go.
"Wait a moment." A soft voice he hadn't heard before came from behind.
He turned back and saw the gathered apprentices parting one by one to make way, allowing the black-haired girl to slowly walk out.
Was her status actually the highest among this group? Rogers realized belatedly.
Sylutia held a yellowed book in her hand. Her calm, dark eyes looked at Rogers as she spoke.
"Can you tell me what knowledge you've learned, and what you're good at?" Her voice was very clear, as if one could sense the gentle vibration of this girl's throat from her tone alone, evoking affection and fondness.
Ah, so beautiful. Her voice was just as lovely. Rogers suddenly understood the feelings of his former companions.
She was a beauty he could only admire from afar but never reach.
Over the next ten-plus minutes, Rogers listed everything he'd learned and answered the questions this girl raised.
After the inquiry was finished, Sylutia lowered her gaze in thought for a moment. Then she opened the Obsidian Codex in her hands and removed the silver-blue feather bookmark from beside her ear.
This silver-blue bookmark floated up like a quill pen, rapidly writing lines of text on the originally blank pages. Then the pages turned.
After a short while, the blank pages at the end of the book were filled, and it closed again.
"I'm giving this to you." Sylutia released her hand, and the book floated toward Rogers.
"Based on what I learned before, I've supplemented the missing parts. If you follow what's written here, you should be able to advance along the Gold Steam, Aspect path."
Obsidian Codex·Supplement (Gold Steam) — Records the characteristics of various obsidian materials and the secret arts for transforming and forging obsidian. One can advance according to the recorded secret arts and gain the core ability: "Obsidian Furnace."
They were all apprentices and couldn't freely teach the various secret arts and knowledge they'd learned. However, self-written materials weren't restricted. Although Sylutia hadn't advanced along the Gold Steam, Aspect path, during her half-year at Tetis College, she'd learned a great deal of knowledge and skills and summarized many experiences.
"This..." Rogers took the book and flipped through it, a look of pleasant surprise spreading across his face.
This was the advancement secret art he'd dreamed of. Moreover, the obsidian required wasn't expensive—even he could gather enough with some time.
"Thank you, thank you. I'm so grateful." He knelt down excitedly to express his thanks. Unfortunately, he had no money on him and didn't know how to repay her.
"May I ask your name, miss?" He didn't even dare to directly ask for her name.
"Well, you just need to know we're from the 'Griffin School.'" One apprentice walked over, blocking his view, and answered the question.
Afterward, the group of apprentices clustered around Sylutia as they left, leaving Rogers staring at their gradually disappearing figures in the distance.
Though he never learned that girl's name, her black hair and eyes were deeply engraved in Rogers' memory.
I'll call you White Griffin Maiden, Rogers said to himself, committing that temporary title to memory.