Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 260 The Important Number

Somewhat trying to ignore everything that was going on, Raze had stayed in his seclusion room, and while there, he continued to study the Noctis Clan’s skills. There was a lot for him to learn, and while the rest were scared, he wasn’t going to waste his time.

“There’s an easy way to speed up this assessment, but who knows what the criteria are for them to bring this to an end. Will the teachers open up when a month has gone past and those who have survived pass? Or is it even more cruel than that? The possibility could be that they are waiting for a single person. If that’s the case, then it’s impossible for the assessment to end, and I’ll have to start thinking of other ways,” Raze thought to himself.

What he did notice while he was in his room were the number of people that would pass by. It wasn’t like before when students would just be heading to their own seclusion rooms for training. It was quite clear based on the faces Raze noticed as well. There were only a few rooms that went past his, that people would have to go past to walk past his room. Yet he had seen so many faces.

“They’re keeping an eye on me, and it seems like they’re taking it in turns. They’re just wasting too much energy on all of this,” Raze chuckled to himself.

Most of the students had decided to gather in the lit-up training arena as it had been called by others. There were three sections: the Dark room, where they had landed, the seclusion rooms, and the training arena. These three places were linked by dark hallways, but one would have to go past the seclusion rooms to enter the Dark room, not that anyone weren’t there in the first place.

Simyon, Liam, and Safa would gather in the training room with the others. Although there was a bit of contempt thrown their way, it wasn’t in the same way as they felt toward Raze, and they were using this to gather information.

“Hey, you’ve got to tell me, man, how are you okay with all of this?” Liam said, hunched over and crouching down. It eased the hunger slightly doing this.

Meanwhile, Safa just had her eyes closed most of the time, gathering more energy into her body. Whenever there was a chance, she would cultivate. There were a few that were doing this, including the main disciples.

“Oh, I guess I just don’t get as hungry as much compared to others,” Simyon replied, remembering back to when he had first received the black earring. What he had gone through back then was far worse. He wasn’t even strong enough to be considered a Pagna warrior, and he had to go through the same thing they were going through now. On top of that, he was unable to sleep. That still seemed like an issue for a lot of people here; they were on edge, and since they knew that Raze wasn’t the cause of death, there was a killer among them that they needed to worry about.

“Well, the way I see it, we have nothing to worry about,” Liam said. “If the killer is Raze, then at least he’s on our side, right? And if it’s not, well, then we know that he isn’t someone to worry about, at least for us.”

“Hey, Raze wouldn’t do that?” Simyon replied back.

“Really?” Liam replied. “You’ve known him longer than me; are you saying that there are times where you haven’t seen him snap? I saw the look on his face. If I didn’t do anything, I think the second-year student would have been dead a lot sooner.”

Simyon wanted to defend his friend; he wanted to say more, but he couldn’t because he remembered an incident at the temple as well, and he thought the same way. That was when Liam felt a hard slap at the back of his head, and it had come from none other than Safa. Even though Raze wasn’t her real brother, she still had this family and sister bond that she still couldn’t shake off.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Liam rubbed the back of his head. “I’m just stating the truth. Heck, do you think our clan leaders have clean hands? And as Pagan warriors, we are expected to get our hands bloody; Raze is just a few steps ahead of us, I see it as no problem.”

Another day had gone past, and once again, there was no sign of food or water being delivered to the group. At this point, students were cultivating for longer periods of time to get what their bodies needed to at least still function. However, very few were able to focus just on training.

Standing at the back in the training arena were still the group of disciples.

“So, spill the beans, Ricktor!” Lisa said, her arms folded. Even the main disciples were starting to feel the effects of this whole thing slightly. “How do we get this assessment to end?”

There was a reason why Ricktor had kept silent so far; he was trying to figure out who the other student was that was behind everything that was occurring. He thought eventually they would make their move, and he was trying to see who it would be, and he didn’t leave his fellow main disciples off the suspect list.

“I suppose I do have some information,” Ricktor stated. “I believe this whole thing is occurring because of the martial arts tournament.”

“Martial arts tournament? But isn’t that at the end of the year?” Mada replied.

“No,” Ricktor answered. “It has been brought forward and will occur in the next two months. So think of it this way: the clans feel they are in a desperate situation. They don’t think much of us students anyway. So they set up a rather cruel assessment to select those students. So let me ask you a question: do you know how many contenders are selected for the martial arts tournament from the academy?”

“Eight,” Lisa answered. “It’s always been eight students.”

The look on the other disciples’ faces widened as they came to the realization. This was the number—the number of students that needed to remain for the assessment to end.