Chapter 111: The Rules of the War Camp

A Third-Rank Wizard Apprentice!

The bald man was no fool; he instantly gauged Lin Wei’s true strength.

“I am willing to leave behind two hundred magic stones!”

The bald man was clearly a veteran of many storms, someone who knew when to yield. His concession was delivered without a hint of reluctance.

“The price has gone up. Double it—four hundred magic stones.” Lin Wei held up four fingers, his gaze fixed on the bald man.

“Hmm…” The bald man hesitated for only a fraction of a second before gritting his teeth. “Four hundred it is. I…”

*Cling!*

A black chain materialized around the bald man’s throat, coiling tightly several times, cutting his words short.

“Since you weren't willing, then forget it.”

Lin Wei had never intended to actually take the four hundred magic stones. Back at the academy, he was never short of them. Now that he had arrived at the war camp and consulted the military merit exchange manual, he knew that a single military merit point could be exchanged for twenty magic stones; his desire for them had only diminished further.

The bald man was on the verge of tears. He had clearly submitted, yet Lin Wei refused to give him a chance. He felt his throat go dry and ache with a crushing pressure, as if it would be shattered at any moment. Now, he could only pray that this newcomer understood at least some of the rules and wouldn’t kill him outright.

The bald man clawed frantically at the chains with his fingers, trying with all his might to alleviate the pressure, only to be struck by a piercing, agonizing pain.

*Cling! Cling!*

Two more black sand chains manifested out of thin air.

Unlike the one around his throat, these two chains were thicker, and their tips were fashioned into sharp, diamond-shaped points.

*Puchi! Puchi!*

The blades pierced his flesh!

The two chains bored through the bald man’s palms and soles, then, as if stitching cloth, continued to pierce back and forth through his body.

Within a few breaths, the bald man was a bloody mess, riddled with holes.

With his throat tightly constricted, the bald man couldn’t even let out a sound; he lost all strength and collapsed to the ground.

“Lin… Lin Wei… did you kill him?”

Bansaini clearly had Kibur’s prohibition in mind. If the bald man were dead, Lin Wei would be punished, and he would undoubtedly be implicated as well.

Lin Wei was already accustomed to Bansaini’s trembling demeanor.

“He isn’t dead.”

Lin Wei hadn’t acted without consideration. Defying Kibur’s orders and coming into direct conflict with a formal wizard was not an outcome he desired. When he struck, he had carefully avoided the bald man’s vital organs. While his injuries appeared severe, his life was not in danger.

Bansaini subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. As long as the man wasn’t dead, he wouldn’t be dragged into it.

“Let’s go, Senior.”

Lin Wei stepped on the bald man lying on the floor, his eyes unblinking, as he spoke to Bansaini with his back turned.

“Go? Go where?” Bansaini suddenly felt a sense of impending doom.

“To the task distribution office.”

Lin Wei kicked the bald man a few more times, noting that he had already lost consciousness.

Bansaini’s cowardly nature surfaced in full force: “Aren’t we just courting death by going there now?! If we get caught by Sanier, the man backing him, we’ll be in deep trouble!”

Bansaini clutched his head, his face full of anxiety: “It’s over, we’ve already offended Master Sanier… That Master Sanier clearly holds the power to distribute tasks; we’re going to be assigned as cannon fodder!”

Without realizing it, the “Sanier” in Bansaini’s mouth had become “Master Sanier.”

“Senior, do you really believe that rules reign supreme in this war camp?” Lin Wei suddenly turned his head to look at Bansaini.

Bansaini was stunned, momentarily dazed.

“You’ve spent too much time in the kingdoms of mortals…” Lin Wei moved his foot onto the bald man’s clean-shaven forehead, stepping down slowly. “Wars between mortals depend on combined strength; they must follow supreme rules, or else they become a scattered mess and face certain defeat. But what about us? What about wizards who possess transcendent power?”

“The outcome of a war between wizards does not depend on numbers, but on the level of their peak combatants!” The bald man beneath Lin Wei’s foot seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness. “From the very day the Fangs of the Blood Shadow went to war with the Wizard Academy Alliance, it was destined that all of us—even the supreme commander here at Lake Segawi, Wizard Kibur—are nothing but cannon fodder!”

“The only ones who can decide the outcome of this war are the leaders of the Fangs of the Blood Shadow and the deans and elders of the Wizard Academy Alliance! As for us, we are merely playing a game called war with our lives… Whether low-level wizards win or lose doesn't matter; this time, we aren't even pawns… Why did Kibur only draw the line at death? Because he saw the nature of this from the very beginning! Since it’s a game, we might as well play it boldly!”

“There are no real rules in a wizard’s war camp. If you insist there are, then it is this: strength is supreme!”

Bansaini looked at Lin Wei with a hint of terror, cold sweat seeping from his forehead.

“Let’s go. Bring this guy along; we’re going to the task distribution office.”

By now, the bald man had been stepped on by Lin Wei until he regained consciousness.

Lin Wei did not wait for Bansaini, turning and walking out of the room.

Bansaini hesitated, looking at the bald man on the floor. With a hardened heart, he grabbed the black sand chain attached to the man and placed his palm against his back.

A trickle of life energy flowed into the bald man’s body.

Bansaini was a plant-element wizard apprentice; healing wounds was one of his spells.

Ultimately, Bansaini still feared the so-called rules, so he did his best to alleviate the bald man’s injuries, terrified that he might die from blood loss.

*Clatter!*

Bansaini pulled the black sand chain taut, pushed aside his conflicted emotions, and dragged the bald man along the floor as if he were a dead dog.

...

The task distribution office.

It was clearly a temporary structure, with crude construction, but it was much larger in scale.

A young wizard, appearing to be in his twenties, sat at a desk in the center of the room. His expression carried a hint of arrogance, and he made no attempt to conceal the aura of a Third-Rank Wizard Apprentice.

He was the Senior Sanier the bald man had spoken of, the one who held the authority to manage task distribution for the Lake Segawi war camp.

A long queue had formed in front of Sanier—these were all the newcomers summoned to Lake Segawi.

Looking at the newcomers, whose faces were filled with awe and even sycophancy, Sanier realized for the first time that besides power, there was something as intoxicating as authority.

With just a stroke of his quill on a piece of paper, he could determine the survival difficulty for those receiving these tasks.

“Get out of the way!”

Suddenly, a boisterous voice came from the back of the line.

It was a sturdy man, followed by a woman with a provocative figure.

The sturdy man pushed aside the queue, which had previously been orderly and quiet, instantly throwing it into chaos.