Chapter 121: The Ones Left Behind After the Cull

Upon hearing Archmage Norchi’s words, the entire spacious lecture hall erupted into a commotion. Even though Norchi was a legendary nine-ring mage of the unfathomable Celestial Might level, his reputation alone could not quell the throng of desperate novice mages who had squeezed in just to catch a glimpse of him.

Typically, lectures by legendary mages were at least half invitation-only, closed-door affairs. Some of the higher-profile lectures were nearly inaccessible to most novices, reserved only for mentor-level mages. The reason this lecture on transformation by Norchi stirred such fervor was its open participation policy—entry was granted solely by ticket.

For novice mages in the floating city, such high-level open lectures were rare, perhaps only a few times a month. This was a tangible benefit that novices could truly experience. Moreover, only by performing well in these lectures could one gain the greatest value—not merely impressing the lecturer, but also the senior mages seated among the audience.

The floating city had never lacked tales of those who astonished everyone in a lecture, only to be taken on as disciples by prominent masters afterward. Ever since the dormitory notice board announced this lecture last night, many novice mages from noble families in the kingdom had been quietly vying to obtain a ticket.

This was also why so few players were seen at the lecture—the majority of tickets had been swallowed up by underground networks from the start. Only a handful of players favored by mentors could acquire tickets directly from them.

Previously, Zhao Xu had always received his tickets from Antinoa, and even the lecture schedule in his possession was the complete timetable for all lectures across the floating city—a collection more comprehensive than what the city’s administrative office held. This gave him the illusion that the city office freely distributed tickets.

This disparity left him momentarily puzzled as to why everyone’s emotions were so charged. After all, wasn’t it just a lecture?

Yet even the few rebellious novices from privileged backgrounds dared not voice any objection. None had the courage to insult a nine-ring mage openly. Those without at least seventeen points of intelligence quietly gathered their painstakingly prepared materials and left the hall one after another.

Tickets bought at great expense were rendered worthless by a single sentence from a nine-ring mage—that was the unchanging truth of the floating city after a thousand years.

At that moment, Zhao Xu rubbed his head. His character sheet showed seventeen intelligence points, but they were merely illusions. The true realization of those attributes would have to wait eleven months—until humanity’s demise.

Just as Zhao Xu was about to rise, he hesitated. The day he transformed into a Seraphic Attendant, he had systematically eliminated the cavalry who participated in the prisoner massacre, as well as Tark and his retinue. Much of this stemmed from his anger at his own helplessness.

Following Antinoa’s guidance, he could explore and take risks—after all, he had the trump card of “Shapechanging.” At worst, he could transform and make a swift escape.

The true power of “Shapechanging” lay in its ability to shift into a different creature every round. Arthur’s tens of thousands of species were the ultimate fallback of this spell.

Yet, Zhao Xu, wielding only a single spell, was still no nine-ring mage. He could not even stop an opponent’s strike, because even transforming would not halt the slaughter immediately.

Thus, upon returning to the floating city, Zhao Xu resolved to become a formidable mage.

The invincible, life-reaping warrior stance he assumed as a Seraphic Attendant marked the final severance between Zhao Xu and his former warrior soul from his past life. He had chosen resolutely not to use a candle, but to expend the greater cost of “Shapechanging,” aspiring to become a killing machine on the battlefield as he once was.

The moment the Seraphic Attendant form faded was the death of the warrior Zhao Xu—and the birth of mage Zhao Xu.

Understanding this, Zhao Xu sat back down. Even if he aimed to become a combat-oriented battle mage, this meant his spells would cover a broad range, possessing both offensive and defensive tactics, preparing both active and passive defenses, and employing various magical means to strike and control enemies.

A sufficient scholarly foundation in magic remained an essential condition for him.

“Hey, little brother, is there something wrong with your intelligence?” Lin Qi, sitting nearby, quickly noticed Zhao Xu’s odd demeanor and whispered anxiously.

Zhao Xu felt this sounded like an insult but swallowed it and replied, “No, the chair’s just hard.”

The portly man stared at the padded armchair behind Zhao Xu. He had sat there before—the top layer was filled with goose down, perfectly suited to his size. How could it be hard?

Thinking this, he glanced back at his own hard wooden folding chair and immediately felt an ache on his backside.

By this time, nearly a third of the audience had already left—somewhat surprising to Zhao Xu. He hadn’t expected so many to have seventeen or eighteen intelligence points.

Looking at the data, it seemed that each point was a linear increase, but in reality, the effect grew exponentially.

For strength attributes, every five-point increase roughly doubled carrying capacity. Thus, intelligence at seventeen or eighteen points was the pinnacle among humans who had not undergone upgrades or growth.

“Little brother, don’t be surprised. Mystra gathers the smartest mages in all of Arthur. The average quality here is naturally very high. And the tuition to study here is a considerable burden even for noble royal families, so only the most gifted can attend,” Lin Qi explained helpfully.

Once self-assured of his own intelligence, he had been harshly humbled by reality—no one expected that Mystra lacked no shortage of geniuses.

Zhao Xu nodded in gratitude to the portly Lin Qi, feeling that this overly familiar, slightly oily man wasn’t so unpleasant after all.

Onstage, Archmage Norchi nodded with satisfaction. The remaining number of attendees was not unexpected. Coming from a powerless, insignificant family, he understood that novices able to squeeze in here were unlikely to have poor backgrounds.

Even the much-desired “Intelligence Headbands” that increased intelligence attributes were worn by many present. A natural intelligence of fifteen, combined with a +2 intelligence headband, was enough to meet his standards.

Yet Norchi sneered coldly, sending a chill through the novice mages below.

Intelligence headbands could be passed down through generations, but magical talent was another matter entirely.

“Those who have never used the ‘Core Four Transformations’ spell, please leave. This course has nothing to do with you,” Norchi declared, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the waiting audience.

Though the crowd was thinning, the remaining listeners erupted into even louder chatter. Those who had stayed, proud of their intelligence and fewer competitors, were stunned by this proclamation.

The Core Four Transformations referred to the level 2 Polymorph, level 4 Metamorphosis, level 8 Transmute All, and level 9 Shapechanging spells.

This statement meant all novices at levels 1 and 2 had to leave.

“Ridiculous!” shouted a mage sitting not far behind Zhao Xu, rising angrily and heading toward the exit.

Zhao Xu noticed the man wore the robes of a four-ring mage.

He hadn’t expected a seventh-level mage to lack mastery of the Core Four Transformations.

It was understandable if he hadn’t mastered the level 4 Metamorphosis, but not even the level 2 Polymorph?

Polymorph allowed transformation into creatures of the same size and species, such as Zhao Xu turning into an elf, with endless creative possibilities. It was undoubtedly a popular spell.

Metamorphosis allowed transformation into more species and placed fewer restrictions on HP, aligning more with the traditional concept of shapechanging.

Zhao Xu silently pondered that transformation spells must have hidden tiers he hadn’t yet uncovered.

“Ah, we came to this lecture to learn powerful transformation spells,” Lin Qi lamented for the departing intermediate mages.

Intermediate mages capable of casting level 4 to 6 spells were Arthur’s backbone, while the seven-ring and above mages Zhao Xu often encountered were only a small elite.

The hall’s attendance instantly dropped from two-thirds to less than a quarter, leaving mostly senior mages who calmly ignored Norchi’s next demands—they certainly met all requirements.

But Zhao Xu noticed Lin Qi also folding up his chair, prompting curiosity.

“Why are you leaving? You can’t cast them either?” he asked.

Lin Qi looked surprised at Zhao Xu’s stubbornness.

He lowered his voice: “I should be asking you that. Why aren’t you leaving?”

“Didn’t you see those intermediate mages weren’t hiding their lack of level 2 Polymorph and left obediently? Staying would be a provocation to a nine-ring archmage like Norchi.”

Lin Qi couldn’t help but reveal a trace of fear.

“I advise you to leave quickly. Your one-ring standard mage robes are too conspicuous. Even if you had gleaming mithril, it wouldn’t matter—Norchi has zero tolerance for nonsense.”

Lin Qi urged Zhao Xu impatiently, thinking the other should take the hint and depart swiftly.

But Zhao Xu remained unmoved.

Lin Qi waited a moment, and seeing Zhao Xu still seated, awkwardly reopened his folding chair and sat down.

“Huh? Weren’t you going to leave?” Zhao Xu’s words cut like a knife.

“Oh, I forgot I just mastered level 4 Metamorphosis at noon. Ah, well, memory fades with age,” Lin Qi grumbled through clenched teeth.

Now that the crowd had thinned to a quarter, Norchi nodded with satisfaction. Two more rounds of culling would leave about a tenth of the original audience—just right.

He sneered to himself: Transformation spells mastered by these dull-witted weaklings? Hardly.

Yet, his gaze, which had been sweeping endlessly over the rear rows, finally settled back on a man in first-ring robes sitting in the corner of the front row.

“That first-ring mage in the corner, which of the Core Four Transformations have you used?” Norchi asked.