Chapter 220 Secrets {2} - The Demon Continent's Rebellion
Silas and Ivy sat in silence for far too long. Eventually, the professor for the class entered the classroom through the same doors the students entered. Without waiting for everyone to quiet down, he slowly walked toward the front of the hall with his head held high.
Every step that sounded from his feet let out an echoing noise that reached the ears of everyone in the room. Eventually, by the time he reached the front of the classroom, everyone was completely silent, looking at him with a hint of reverence in their eyes.
The man on the ground of the classroom wore a pure white robe with a golden scarf that wrapped behind his neck and went down his chest.
He looked like a preacher. Preachers didn't usually wear these kinds of clothes, making them closer to the preachers of Earth rather than the ones of Gilea.
However, what caught Silas' attention was not his pure white robes or scarf—the pair of long, narrow ears hidden behind his pale blonde hair.
'This is the second elf I've seen... Are elves this common?' Silas thought while looking at Ivy.
She also had long, narrow ears; however, unlike the man at the front who was about to teach them everything they would ever need to know about herbs, her ears were a little shorter than his.
They were also more rounded at the top rather than being sharp like the elves.
When Ivy felt Silas' gaze, she widened her eyes before smirking slightly. Looking to the side, a beautiful smile blossomed on her face. A smile that would have pulled on the heartstrings of anyone with even the smallest amount of desire within them.
Without showing a different expression, Silas looked away, completely unperturbed by Ivy. When he looked away, he could feel disappointed in her gaze, but she quickly got over it and looked back at the professor at the front of the hall with a bored expression.
"Welcome back." The elf bowed slightly before walking toward the large board at the front that was visible for everyone to see.
"Today, I'll be going over all the basics again. We have a few new people, and I just want to make sure that all of you still know everything that I taught you last year." The man explained while everyone reluctantly nodded.
For the rest of the 3-hour lecture, the elf quickly reviewed all the herbs they had learned about. Silas absorbed the information quickly and even asked a few questions while at it.
It was good to know about all the different plants one could find on the continent. Creating antidotes would become much easier if you knew what kind of poison is in effect.
Of course, Silas himself would never need an antidote, but the same could not be.
Many of the plants on this planet follow the same principles as the ones on Earth. The effects that had on people were only amplified by the existence of mana, that was all.
Of course, the stronger herbs had varying magical differences that made their effect unpredictable and, many times, more lethal than anything found on Earth.
After absorbing all the knowledge like a sponge, the lecture ended, and it was time for the next one.
When he left the lecture hall, he had so many things on his mind that he almost forgot about the presence of the woman beside him.
"Why are you following me?" Silas asked with a slightly agitated expression.
"What do you mean? We're simply going in the same direction." She smiled warmly in reply.
"..."
"..."
'Don't tell me.' A horrible thought passed through Silas' mind, making him let out an exasperated sigh.
When he eventually got to the next class, he understood that he was right.
'She's chosen all the same classes as me...' A shiver went down his spine at the thought of sharing every class with the stalker beside him.
The rest of the day went as normally as it could.
The next Silas had was runemanship. Surprisingly enough, despite the walking distraction next to him, Silas did not have a problem understanding the lecture's content.
It was taught by Mr. Faldro, the beer-bellied man who escorted him, Nymira, and Alext to the academy.
The lecture was explained rune sequences. The basic principle of this was that runes had to be applied in a certain order for them to not only take effect but also so they don't explode in one's face.
Silas already knew this. Runes were essentially circuits in the form of characters or letters.
Rearrange the letters around; you have a completely different sentence to produce a different effect. Rearrange them randomly, and you've created gibberish that could not even be read off the paper without creating extra sounds.
Due to Silas' limited knowledge of the enchantment runes, he still had a lot to learn. After all, while Virack might have been a good Blacksmith, he was no teacher in the end. Sometimes, when he tried to teaching, Silas could not help but ask how the man even had disciples in the first place.
Before they knew it, the lecture ended, and it was time for them to leave.
***
---The Demon Continent---
-The Cursed Lands-
Amidst the desolation of the cursed lands, a chilling wind swept across the barren landscape. The ground was cracked and lifeless, a reflection of the sinister aura that pervaded the atmosphere. Two figures trudged forward through this bleak expanse, accompanied by the subdued shuffling of chained demons behind them.
The humans, clad in worn leather armor, cast furtive glances at each other. Their faces bore a mixture of exhaustion and unease but also a grim determination that mirrored their surroundings.
"We've been out here for weeks, Arthur," one of the humans, a man with a scruffy beard, grumbled. "I don't know how much longer I can take this."
Arthur, his fellow traveler, let out a tired sigh. "I hear you, Benjamin. This place... It's a nightmare. I never thought I'd be grateful for the stench of the city back home."
Benjamin chuckled weakly. "Yeah, and that blasted curse storm... I can barely see a hand in front of my face."
Despite their complaints, a sense of duty lingered beneath their words. They both knew the weight of their task – to escort the demon slaves through the cursed lands far from their homeland. It was a duty they carried with a heavy heart, knowing that these chained souls would be sent to distant regions, their freedom forever lost.
As they walked, Benjamin's voice softened, and a distant look crossed his eyes. "You know, Arthur, I miss my wife. And my little girl, Emily. She's been begging me to bring her something from this godforsaken place."
Arthur nodded in understanding, his gaze distant as well. "I know what you mean. My family's been asking about my trips too. Last time, I brought my daughter a trinket from the demon continent – a little necklace. She was so happy, thought it was the most magical thing."
Their conversation carried a bittersweet tone, a glimpse into the lives they had left behind. It was a connection to their humanity amidst the harshness of their current reality.
But just as their words were about to fade into the wind, a sudden tension seized the air. The temperature dropped sharply, and the very wind seemed to be still as if holding its breath. Arthur's eyes widened, and he turned his head in a futile attempt to pierce through the swirling snow and darkness of the cursed storm.
"Arthur, what is it?" Benjamin's voice quivered with uncertainty.
Arthur's response was a strangled gasp, cut short by a sinister presence that materialized from within the storm. A dark figure, shrouded in malevolent intent, fixed its gaze upon them with eyes as cold and unforgiving as the cursed lands themselves.
Before either of them could react, the figure surged forward, moving with an unnatural swiftness that defied the laws of nature. In an instant, a blade materialized in its hand, and with merciless precision, it plunged the weapon through Benjamin's heart.
The man's eyes widened in shock, his body freezing in a moment of disbelief. He looked at Arthur, his eyes reflecting a thousand unspoken emotions before his life was extinguished as swiftly as a candle flame snuffed out.
Blood stained the barren ground, mingling with the desolation that surrounded them. Arthur staggered back, his heart pounding in his chest as he gaped at the lifeless form of his comrade.
The figure, its dark presence emanating triumph, dissolved into the swirling snowstorm once more, leaving Arthur alone with the weight of his horror and the chilling knowledge that malevolence walked these cursed lands in forms more terrifying than the storm itself.
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