Andre appeared at the restaurant entrance, still exuding an elegant noble air, but his eyes carried unmistakable authority. The reserve Apprentices exchanged nervous glances and quickly scattered—they understood their place. Here, secular noble status meant little; yet the Thirteenth Prince of the Faruk Kingdom loomed behind Andre, and that power—not to mention Andre himself—was not to be underestimated.
"These guys…" Andre strolled up to Ron, chuckling lightly. "Yesterday, when Darrend mutated, they all hid in their rooms—not daring to even open the door. But now they all swarm around, trying to curry favor."
Ron gave a slight nod. "I really don't care to socialize with them. Thanks for helping me out, Andre."
Andre smiled. "Then let's go find somewhere quieter." He invited Ron along. "Coincidentally, I have some freshly baked muffins over here—much better than that black bread."
They made their way to Andre's room, which was elegantly furnished compared to the scanty lodgings of the other reserve Apprentices. A small table held a few steaming muffins and a pot of fragrant flower tea.
"As for that…" Andre poured tea for Ron, grinning as he spoke. "I didn't expect you to handle Darrend's mutation—and with just a wooden sword, no less."
Ron lifted the tea and sipped. "Just luck."
"Luck?" Andre teased. "You're sounding more humble these days. Back in Wangdu, if you'd done something like that, you'd have bragged about it all over town."
Ron shook his head, a rueful smile crossing his lips. "That was then."
"That's true," Andre said, taking a bite of muffin and showing a flash of emotion. "But seriously, your progress lately has been incredible. You've practiced the Corona Breathing Method every day, spent hours at the herbal store studying—and now you've grasped the Conception of sound‑wave spells…"
He paused, studying Ron with a half‑smile. "If I hadn't seen you grow like this with my own eyes, I'd think you were possessed by some powerful entity."
"Possessed?" Ron's heart skipped a beat, recalling his "Double Soul" talent. He kept his voice steady. "I just don't want to wait here to die."
"Right." Andre's expression turned grave. "But you've drawn too much attention. Especially that Marcus."
Ron set down his teacup. "How so?"
Andre spoke quietly. "Though Marcus is only an Elementary Apprentice, he has a brother—Oliver—who is on the brink of formal advancement. Oliver is a senior High Apprentice, at the same level as Lord Holt, and has made real progress in curse‑witchcraft research."
He chose his words carefully. "It's because of that backing that Marcus behaves as he wishes. Most of the reserve Apprentices he's taken as servants have become test subjects in Oliver's spell experiments."
Ron nodded, understanding dawning. Emily's fate after siding with Marcus now seemed all too predictable.
"So…" Andre's tone grew more serious. "You've been too visible. Marcus's brother Oliver has been exploring strange new curses—seems related to extracting mental powers." He looked at Ron meaningfully. "With your talent and potential, they might target you. You have Mrs. Ellen and Lord Holt—but still, you must be cautious."
"I understand." Ron nodded. He had long noticed that Apprentice who favored "beautiful female servants" always glanced at him coldly.
"But don't worry excessively." Andre relaxed into a more elegant smile. "With those two supporting you, Marcus probably won't act overtly. And with your strength right now—even if he tries something, I doubt he'll gain anything."
Ron offered a faint smile and shifted the conversation. "Have there been any developments in the Black Market lately?"
"You mean the Black Market merchants?" Andre shook his head. "Since Darrend's incident, they've been cautious. However…" He gazed out the window thoughtfully. "This quiet probably won't last. As the assessment deadline approaches, desperate people tend to take risks."
"You're right." Ron watched the sky grow dim outside. Darrend's episode had left a strong impact. Progress felt precarious—time was short. He needed to master the Conception of sound‑wave spells and keep improving in other areas.
"It's late." Andre rose. "You surely have things to attend to."
Ron packed his things, planning to leave. He intended to study Darrend's notes and attempt to advance that unfinished prototype spell.
At the door, Andre stopped him. "Ron."
"Yes?"
Andre offered a playful smile. "Do you know I'm a bit grateful that I had no conflict with you back in Wangdu?"
Ron paused, then realized what he meant. "Don't worry. That dissolute young master is already dead on his way to Black Mist Forest." He turned slightly, voice indifferent.
"Exactly." Andre looked at him meaningfully. "But replacing him is a terrifying monster—hard to fathom."
Ron couldn't suppress a wry smile. "A monster, huh…"
In this world, only the fittest survive. If Ron wanted to live, maybe he truly had to become a monster.
He turned and left Andre's room. The corridor was shrouded in twilight. Chaotic shadows along the path, illuminated by dim light, looked like ghostly claws. Periodic hurried glances were cast his way—but Ron no longer cared.
All that's left was to become ever stronger, until he could control his own destiny in this brutal world. In the face of true power, curiosity and scheming turn to dust.
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