Alchemist or Cultivator?

Chapter 4

It was obvious that he was one of the few people who knew almost nothing about the wider Wizard World.

Many of the other qualified apprentices came from noble families, and those families clearly had far more knowledge about the academy and its various factions.

Rayn ignored the excitement and walked toward the Puppet Element section of the Combat Element.

A light screen displayed the contract terms clearly.

An apprentice who chose the Puppet Element would have ten years of study. Once ten years had passed, or once the apprentice became a First Level Official Wizard, they would be sent to the battlefield.

During those ten years, all basic and advanced knowledge related to the Puppet Element would be available for free. Each month, the academy would also provide resources worth 100 points.

After entering military service, the apprentice would have to remain on the battlefield for seven years or obtain enough merit to qualify for an early release.

Rayn continued through the other Combat Element sections.

The details varied, but the overall structure remained almost identical. The study period and strength requirements were generally the same, while the main differences were the monthly resources and length of military service.

Most offered between 100 and 150 points of resources each month. Military contracts ranged from five to fifteen years.

Compared with what the academy had promised during recruitment, the terms seemed fairly generous.

Then Rayn looked toward the Logistics Element.

The difference was immediate.

The area was much quieter. There were fewer apprentices, and the instructors hardly bothered to promote their specializations. Whenever someone asked about a contract, the instructor would simply point toward the magical display.

Rayn soon understood why.

The longest study period remained unchanged, but almost everything else was worse.

The Logistics Elements provided only basic knowledge for free. Advanced knowledge had to be exchanged using points. The monthly resource allowance was a miserable ten points.

And the military contract lasted thirty years.

The conditions across the various Logistics Elements were almost identical, with only their names and specific fields being different.

“What a joke, a thirty-year contract term?” an apprentice complained in a low voice, “That’s way too long, just five years for the combat element!”

The difference was enough to push most apprentices toward the Combat Element.

The advertisements above them showed wealth, fame, powerful spells, magical equipment, and successful wizards returning from the frontier. To young apprentices who had just entered the Wizard World, it was almost impossible not to be tempted.

Those with high talent received even more attention.

Rayn’s Sixth Level talent naturally made him one of the instructors’ targets. Several Combat Element mentors had already begun paying attention to him, hoping to convince him to join their specializations.

Rayn, however, was not interested in the excitement around him.

He had experienced an information explosion in his previous life. Compared with the flashy advertisements and carefully selected success stories, he knew better than to believe everything placed in front of him.

More importantly, the possibility of becoming an experimental subject had never left his mind.

That caution allowed him to notice something everyone else seemed to overlook.

“Ninety-seven Wizards returning from the combat element… Strange, why such a number?” Rayn frowned deeply.

The returning wizards were easy to identify.

They carried an aura that could only come from surviving actual battles. The academy had gathered them together on the temporary stage, placing them in full view of the apprentices as living proof of the Combat Element’s success.

Yet the Logistics Element had returning wizards too.

They were not being used to promote anything, but most of them had also gathered in one area. From time to time, they exchanged amused looks with the Combat Element wizards, as though they were enjoying some private joke.

That made Rayn even more suspicious.

These returning wizards had probably been assigned a task to assist with the recruitment event. If so, their number should have been easy to arrange.

Why ninety-seven?

If the academy wanted to display a group of returning wizards for promotional purposes, wouldn’t a neat number such as one hundred make more sense?

This was Skyrim Academy, an institution famous for its strict rules and obsession with knowledge. Something as simple as the number of returning wizards should not have been left looking incomplete without a reason.

Rayn lowered his gaze as two possibilities came to mind.

“Two possibilities. In the Wizard World, due to some special Wizard rule or numerical symbol, ninety-seven is indeed a ‘complete number.’ And two…”

His expression gradually became grim.

“…They don’t have the capability to round up to a hundred.”

For a moment, Rayn said nothing.

What did it mean to lack the capability?

The answer was obvious.

Everyone else was dead.

These ninety-seven returning wizards might not have been chosen because they were the best examples of successful graduates. They might simply be the survivors.

The apprentices around him were still excitedly discussing their choices. Some were arguing about which Combat Element offered the best future. Others were trying to catch the attention of mentors who might recommend them.

Rayn no longer cared about any of that.

If his suspicion was correct, then the academy’s glowing advertisements were showing only one side of the story.

These ninety-seven people had been sent to the battlefield, survived countless fights, endured the academy’s selection process, and somehow made it back alive.

The question was no longer which major offered the greatest glory.

Rayn’s question was much simpler.

How many people had gone there with them, and how many had never returned?