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Chapter 94: 002: Night Talks
Lynch was speechless.
What impression had Avery left on him over the past few days?
Confident, decisive, and commanding!
She truly embodied the archetype of a queen—a template fit for the leading heroine of a female-centric novel.
But now, what was this sudden display of coquettishness?
Gossipy, chatty, incessantly talkative.
How was she any different from the ordinary witches he knew?
"Boring."
Lynch couldn’t be bothered. He sat down by the fire, closed his eyes, and continued his cultivation.
Avery, unfazed by the snub, shrugged and said, "Relax. He poses no threat to you. Your concerns are unnecessary."
Pausing for a moment, she suddenly added, "Aren’t you curious? In just two or three years, while even purebloods like us, blessed with abundant resources, are still stuck as mid-level apprentices, how has he already advanced to high-level apprentice so early?"
Lynch raised an eyebrow and opened his eyes. "What did you say?"
Avery merely smiled and remained silent, returning to sit beside the fire.
Lynch’s lips twitched.
He had to admit that this woman indeed had a knack for stirring intrigue; with just a few words, she had successfully piqued his curiosity.
He cut straight to the point: "What will it take for you to spill it?"
This information was far too significant for him.
"Hmm... let me think..."
Avery pretended to deliberate for a while before suddenly saying, "Put away your glasses. Until this journey concludes."
Lynch didn’t understand why she made such a peculiar request. Regardless, he saw no harm and immediately took off his glasses.
Avery stared at him again for a moment. "Truly handsome, huh?"
She chuckled. "You know, I’m acquainted with some very wealthy witches. Someone like you—fresh-faced and charming—would be quite popular among them. Want me to introduce you?"
Annoyed, Lynch retorted, "Can we get to the point already?"
Avery pouted playfully: "You’re no fun."
Finally, before Lynch could lose his temper, she revealed the information he yearned to hear.
She asked, "Before I explain, I want to ask—do you know Alfred’s mentor, Wizard Murphy?"
Lynch replied, "I’ve heard of him. He’s said to be a master of magic potion studies."
Avery responded, "That’s not what I’m asking about. I mean his background. Do you know where he comes from?"
Lynch thought for a moment, then shook his head.
Avery’s expression grew more serious: "He’s actually a black wizard."
Lynch froze. "A black wizard?"
Avery nodded, continuing, "He originally belonged to the Black Tower Alliance. But due to certain events, he defected from them. For some special reasons, the White Witch Council decided to shelter him, and later, he joined the Shadow Tower."
"He’s spent so many years in the Shadow Tower without ever taking on an apprentice, yet he suddenly took Alfred in as his student. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?"
Lynch frowned. "You mean..."
Black wizards don’t share the same inheritance-driven philosophy as white wizards. Every move they make has a purpose, including taking on apprentices.
Avery nodded: "A black wizard taking an apprentice and investing a fortune in rare materials to nurture them? Over these years, Murphy has spent countless magic stones on Alfred. It’s obviously suspicious."
"And only Alfred, the fool, takes pride in it. He even fantasizes about his beloved teacher helping him ascend to wizard status. Pathetic." Avery added, her tone laced with mockery.
Lynch fell silent.
He had long thought Alfred’s rapid advancement to high-level apprentice within just two to three years was unnervingly abnormal. Now, Avery’s explanation seemed to make all those inconsistencies fall into place. 𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑝𝘶𝘣.𝑐𝘰𝘮
Lynch asked hesitantly, "So... what’s Wizard Murphy’s motive in all this?"
"I don’t know."
Avery shook her head, then looked directly into Lynch’s eyes: "But now that you’ve removed your glasses, I might have an answer."
Lynch was perplexed. "What do you mean?"
Avery raised a finger and pointed to his eyes. "Haven’t you noticed that your eyes are gray? Alfred’s eyes are also gray. I’ve heard stories about the two of you—didn’t Wizard Murphy specifically choose the two of you as his apprentices during the selection?"
Lynch froze.
When put that way, it did seem true. Thinking back, out of all the apprentices, Murphy had deliberately picked the two of them. If there were a connection, it would be their mutual origins and their shared gray eyes.
This distinctive trait had always seemed ordinary to Lynch—not worth noting—since everyone from his hometown shared gray eyes. But now, reflecting upon it, he realized that, since arriving at the Tower, he had yet to encounter anyone besides Alfred with the same gray eyes.
Avery said, "Your and Alfred’s bodies must contain the bloodline of some special magical life form. But as for what exactly, it would require further investigation."
"One thing, however, I’m certain of: Murphy definitely knows, and it captivates him."
Lynch asked, "Is it the eyes? Or the bloodline itself?"
Avery shook her head: "I can’t say for sure. But whatever it is Murphy intends to extract from Alfred, it’s certainly his ultimate goal. Black wizards never make selfless deals. Everything they do is for their own benefit."
"Every apprentice in the tower is aware of this fact—except Alfred, the oblivious fool, still happily chasing illusions."
...
Shadow Tower, Netta.
"Come, Alfred. Drink this magic potion. This is the Red Magic Soup I carefully prepared for you." Murphy handed Alfred a crystal vial filled with liquid that resembled blood, his expression kindly.
"Magic potion... magic potion..."
Alfred stared at the potion in a daze, snatching it greedily from Murphy’s hand. He uncorked the vial and poured its contents down his throat in one gulp.
"How do you feel, Alfred?" Murphy asked with pretended concern.
Alfred, his tone almost manic, replied, "Magic power! I feel immense magic power growing inside me. Am I finally succeeding, teacher? I’m so close to becoming a wizard, aren’t I? I’m about to ascend, right?"
Murphy nodded gently, stroking Alfred’s hair with tenderness. "Indeed, my dear student. You’re not far from wizardhood. I will help you ascend, and when the time comes, I’ll take you on as my inheritance apprentice and pass down all my life’s knowledge to you."
In the flickering firelight, Murphy’s gaze seemed to shift between light and shadow.
As he stared at Alfred, it was as though he were gazing at a rare, priceless treasure:
"Ah, my beloved student, rest assured."
"I will exhaust all I’ve learned and stake everything I have."
"I will ensure you ascend to wizardhood!"
