The assistant classmate gestured wildly, firing off words like a rapid-fire machine gun, leaving no room for others to interject. As he spoke, two or three students in the group slowed their pace. Anthony Valentine wore an embarrassed expression, glancing around before speaking:
"Um... I brought an invitation from my mentor..."
As he slowed down, Miles also stopped. In the past half-year, he had grown quite a bit taller, but he still wasn’t average height. He took a step towards the main entrance, then another:
"My senior promised to take me in..."
The assistant student paused. Looking left and right, noticing that more than just those two were considering leaving, he slumped his shoulders:
"Alright, alright, those of you with invitations and someone to bring you in, go through the main entrance. Those without, follow me!"
The group dispersed. Garrett remained silent, leisurely following the two ahead towards the main entrance of the auditorium. The auditorium at Bridge Magic Academy was named the Hall of the Wise, which sounded refined, but its appearance belied the name—
From a distance, the entire hall looked like a ferocious black dragon crouching on the ground. The triangular eaves protruded high above the entrance, supported by six slanted pillars on the outer edge, resembling the sharp teeth of a black dragon, ready to snap shut at any moment. The interior corridor was long and dark, almost like walking directly into the mouth of a dragon.
Garrett stopped to observe. The hall’s side halls were symmetrical, with wave-shaped roofs and sharp edges, resembling a pair of spread dragon wings. On the towers at the back, which simulated thorns, figures were overlooking and pointing below. Even more terrifyingly, above the main entrance was a real dragon head, just a glance at it sent shivers down one’s spine...
As Garrett walked from the edge of the hall to the main entrance, he saw three young mages being called out from the crowd by passing senior mages and led into the hall.
Ten steps away from the main entrance, Anthony took out his invitation, holding it silently. Miles looked around as he walked, "Why isn’t my senior here yet... Why isn’t my senior here... Oh, this senior—"
He immediately straightened up, adjusting his posture. Beside him, Anthony also stopped, bowing his head respectfully, "Senior."
Aurora Worton abruptly halted in front of them. The badge on her left chest, representing a three-ring arcane mage and a fifth-level mage, shimmered brightly. She glanced blankly at the two young mages, then at Garrett, who seemed to have a good relationship with them:
Garrett also didn’t know how to explain. From yesterday’s gathering until now, in front of a group of classmates who were relying on their mentors to get in, even impersonating staff to get in, he felt embarrassed to boast. He had been trying to be vague all along, but now, the truth was revealed...
"Ahem, Aurora, let’s go." Garrett forced himself to call out. Aurora hurriedly agreed, walking quickly to his side. Garrett awkwardly turned his head, opening his mouth:
What should he say? What should he say now? Should he say that he brought his own invitation in, and could his invitation still bring someone else in?
It seemed too ostentatious...
He couldn’t find his words for a moment. But Miles suddenly realized, exclaimed, "Oh, Garrett, your senior is here too! Let’s go, let’s go, the opening is about to start!"
Several classmates verified their invitations one by one and entered the hall. Anthony breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he entered:
"Thank goodness, not too many people. I asked around yesterday, those with formal invitations have fixed seats, and the rest can sit wherever they want. We can move forward a bit... Hmm, around the tenth row should be good enough... Garrett... Garrett?"
Garrett, who was in the front row, stunned Anthony! Even if you have a formal invitation, you should still be a bit more discreet! Didn’t you see all those high-level mages behind you?
"Every issue of Arcane publishes three papers and a dozen or so briefings. By convention, paper authors sit in the front, and briefing authors sit in the back." Worton explained casually for her boss:
"The boss wrote a paper, so he’s definitely sitting in the front."
"...Wait, why are you calling him boss?"
"Haha... that’s another story..."
Sitting in the front row, Garrett actually wanted to escape. Who told him whose seat it was, and why was there a necromancer sitting next to him?
"Garrett Nordmark?" The person looked at the badge on his chest, their eyes lighting up. There was only one mage with a level below five who published in Arcane this year, so it was easy to recognize him:
"Hello, hello, I’m Bram McCarthy, I’ve heard of you. Hey, how’s that microscope-related project of yours going? I have a friend in the plague branch, and he mentioned you yesterday..."
"...", How did debt collection end up here? Garrett shrank instinctively under the gaze of those gleaming eyes:
"It’s almost done..."
In fact, it was already done, but he didn’t conclude it first, just to scam some funds for penicillin. Now being questioned by the actual sponsor, Garrett felt a bit guilty, his eyes wandering. The other party rushed up to him anxiously:
"What’s still missing? Do you need help? If you need help, be sure to tell me. After all, it’s our project in the Black Marsh. Whatever you need, just ask!"
"Um..." Garrett blinked, somewhat tempted. A high-level necromancer definitely had better connections and resource-gathering abilities than him... Should he ask this person for some penicillin? Or other fungi?
Before he could make up his mind, the seat suddenly lifted up, pushing him to stand up. The necromancer clapped his hands, dispersing the skeletons under Garrett’s chair:
"Let’s not talk about this now, go up and receive your award! It’s your turn!"