Chapter 8: Departure—Toward the Magic Academy!

As the saying goes, two fists cannot defeat four hands.

Not to mention that the old man was facing dozens of hands with just his own.

Although his strength was considerable, under such a siege, he was quickly defeated.

The cultists bound him with wood magic.

Then, all of them turned to look at An Xia, waiting for his next instruction.

An Xia could not continue standing together with Melva and Anders.

He slowly walked up to the old man, his expression stern. “Ordinary Bishop, do you admit your mistake?”

“Bullshit!”

The old man roared in fury.

This cult had been his! What had he done wrong?

“Oh? Even now, you still dare to speak so arrogantly?” An Xia raised an eyebrow and waved his hand. “Men, bring out the torture.”

“Uh…” A cultist beside him looked confused. “Archbishop, we do not seem to have any torture methods.”

“Idiot.”

An Xia beckoned him closer, whispering into his ear in a voice only the two of them could hear.

The bound old man felt an increasing sense of dread.

He suddenly had the terrifying feeling that something dreadful was about to happen to him.

A moment later, An Xia stepped back. His “instruction” was complete—now it was time for them to act.

Several cultists skilled in wood magic stepped forward. Under the old man’s horrified gaze, they removed his shoes.

Then they cast their spells.

Several soft branches sprouted from the ground and rested against the soles of his feet.

At An Xia’s command, the branches began moving at high speed.

“Ahahaha—!”

The old man had initially tried to endure it.

How could he possibly yield to such childish tricks?

But after three seconds, he broke.

No one could endure this!

Melva and Anders both covered their eyes, unable to bear the sight.

An old man was surrounded in the center, laughing uncontrollably, while the people around him maintained solemn expressions.

The scene was bizarre to the point of absurdity.

Just as the old man was about to laugh himself breathless—

BANG!

The banquet’s entrance doors were violently smashed open.

Everyone turned to look.

More than a dozen fully armed city guards stood there.

Gulp.

A chorus of people swallowing nervously echoed through the hall.

Aside from the old man, An Xia—standing in the center of the cultists—was the most conspicuous figure.

The guards’ gazes all focused on him.

The next moment—

“I surrender!”

An Xia immediately squatted down, clutching his head.

The cultists around him were furious.

Archbishop, how could you surrender before even fighting?!

But then, they had no choice but to follow—

“We surrender too!”

In an instant, all the cultists dropped down, holding their heads just like An Xia.

“…”

The captain of the city guards looked at the three familiar faces, his expression darkening.

Why is it you three again?

It had only been a few hours—how had they already gotten involved with a secret cult?

“Can someone explain what exactly is going on here?” the captain asked flatly.

The old man’s hysterical laughter echoed endlessly through the hall.

Ten minutes later.

Each cultist was fitted with God-Suppressing Handcuffs and escorted outside.

An Xia and the other two stood among the city guards.

The captain rubbed his temples.

Originally, they had come here after spotting a distress signal flare.

When they did not find anyone, one guard noticed traces of cult activity and followed the trail all the way to this gathering.

They had not expected such a scene.

“It was an accident. All of it was an accident,” An Xia said, scratching his head sheepishly.

The captain shot him a speechless glance. “What kind of ‘accident’ makes cultists turn on their own leader?”

“This is merely the art of speech,” An Xia said solemnly.

“To be honest, you seem quite like a cult leader yourself. How about this—you, Archbishop, come along to the prison and stay with them. You can demonstrate your ‘art of speech’ there as well.”

The captain spoke with heavy sarcasm.

An Xia shook his head rapidly. “Let us not do that.”

“Then stop causing trouble for me!” the captain warned him before leaving with the other guards, escorting the cultists away.

Only then did Anders let out a sigh of relief.

He had thought they were truly going to end up in a dungeon.

“By the way, when did you set off the distress signal flare?” Melva asked.

“Did I not go out once after the banquet started?” An Xia replied. “I set it off then.”

Melva frowned. “Did you already realize they were a secret cult at that time?”

“No.” An Xia shook his head. “I just saw that the roasted meat included endangered magical beasts, so I reported it. After all, if we knew and did not report it, once things came to light, we would all end up in prison.”

“…”

Melva did not know what to say.

“Forget it. Let us head back to the inn,” she sighed. Too many things had happened in just half a day.

“Let us go,” An Xia agreed. He was exhausted. Giving that speech had taken a real toll on him. Being stared at by so many people—his legs were still a little weak.

Back at the inn, An Xia and Anders collapsed into bed and fell asleep.

Melva, however, washed up first, meditated for an hour, completed her daily practice, and only then went to rest.

The next day.

“A brand new day!”

An Xia sprang up from the bed, full of energy.

Anders had been sleeping soundly, only to be startled awake.

He shot An Xia a resentful glance before closing his eyes, trying to fall back asleep.

But just as he was about to drift off, the aroma of breakfast wafted into his nose, dispelling what little drowsiness remained.

When he opened his eyes, he saw An Xia pushing a dining cart into the room.

“I brought one for you too,” An Xia said, chewing on bread and speaking indistinctly.

At nine in the morning, the three of them gathered once more.

“Are we still going out today?” Anders asked weakly.

He was already traumatized.

“I think we should just set off for the academy today,” Melva suggested.

“Alright.” An Xia scratched his head. He had developed a bit of a psychological shadow toward Leos City as well. It felt as though his luck clashed with this place—nothing like this had ever happened during his previous visits.

“Then I will go to the carriage rental and change our reservation. You two can go out and look around, maybe buy some souvenirs?”

Melva and Anders nodded without objection.

Soon, An Xia arrived at the carriage rental.

To change the time, he had to check whether the magical beast reserved earlier was available today.

Fortunately, fourth-level magical beasts were not in high demand, so after some bargaining, An Xia paid one gold coin to move the reservation from tomorrow to today.

When he returned to the inn, Melva and Anders had just come back as well.

Melva had bought some jewelry and dolls—typical things a girl would choose.

Anders had bought snacks, planning to eat them on the way to the academy.

“We leave for the academy at two in the afternoon,” An Xia said.

Melva nodded lightly. “Then let us all go pack and make sure we have not forgotten anything.”

Back in his room, An Xia packed his belongings into a suitcase.

Anders’s packing was much simpler—he simply used his mental power to store everything into his storage ring.

Time passed quickly.

Right on schedule, the carriage rental sent a carriage pulled by a fourth-level magical beast to the inn’s entrance.

The three boarded the carriage.

As they watched the scenery recede outside, their hearts were filled with curiosity about Lance Magic Academy—and a trace of fear.

Damn it!

Melva shot An Xia a fierce glare.

If it were not for this guy, they would not be feeling nervous about going to the academy!

An Xia looked back at her, utterly confused.

Wait—what did I even do?!