"Professor?!"
The apprentices exclaimed in shock, all turning to look. They hadn't expected that in an atmosphere so oppressive it was nearly solidified, anyone would dare stand up to face such a terrifying, such a mad Felipe.
Watching the Professor stride calmly and steadily toward the elevated platform, the necromancers and apprentices felt an overwhelming surge of joy, relief, and dependence well up within them—because no one wanted to make a choice under coercion and bullying, even though a considerable portion among them had already weighed the pros and cons and decided to join the Pale Hand.
The joy and encouragement quickly faded, replaced by thick worry and fear flooding their hearts. Given the terrifying strength Felipe had displayed, could the Professor really handle him?
The somewhat timid "Fatty," his teeth chattering, whispered, "Prof... Professor should be... should be able to handle it, right?" It was unclear whether he was talking to himself or asking his companion beside him.
"Professor is a distinguished figure on the Purification Roster—of course there's no problem." The stocky "Bread" was comforting his companion as much as he was comforting himself.
"Red Wine" and "Grouper" still gazed fearfully at the calm, cold Felipe. "Perhaps... perhaps Mr. Felipe is also a distinguished figure on the Purification Roster... Otherwise, why would the Pale Hand send him here?"
Amid the necromancers' and apprentices' anxious gazes, Lucian ascended the high platform and walked toward Felipe. His heart was divided into two diametrically opposed halves—one half was as calm as ice and snow, while the other half, rebounding from the tremendous pressure, conjured up all manner of darkly amusing thoughts unbidden, like wanting to wave his hand and call out mournfully to the crowd below: "I'm sorry I'm late!"
Felipe's manic gaze subsided, his pupils deep and calm, yet they seemed even more dangerous than before. He bowed elegantly and slightly toward Lucian. "Professor, what is it that you wish to object to? I am standing here with no way back. If you cannot provide a reasonable explanation, I think only one of us will be able to continue living."
Lucian's mouth twitched, and countless self-deprecating responses surged through his mind: "Don't be so crazy… Don't resort to violence at the slightest disagreement… Fighting and killing is such poor form… Let's all sit down and talk it through slowly, find a path of mutual benefit…"
Self-deprecating as those thoughts were, Lucian understood this was the best opportunity he'd been waiting a long time for to escape his current dangerous situation. He tried his best to make his tone mild and restrained: "I come from the 'Primordial Spring Will' and have no particular interest in recruiting necromancers."
Whatever you do, don't completely enrage Felipe.
Felipe was slightly taken aback. What did the Professor mean?
Ceci, Tess, and the other mages and apprentices, whose hopeful gazes were fixed on Lucian, were even more bewildered. They thought to themselves, "Professor, if you have nothing to say, why stand up to object? And he's actually from some arcane magic organization… and the Elemental faction at that."
Lucian shifted his tone: "However, I don't quite approve of Mr. Felipe's coercive methods. Everyone here has the right to make their own choice. Whether to remain here, unable to break through and continue living in perpetual darkness, or to follow you to Arlin and exchange one's 'sacrifice and devotion' for a great deal of benefits—either way, they should be allowed to decide for themselves and bear the consequences."
"Heh heh, Professor, well said." Felipe was the first to offer a light round of applause.
Then his eyes, utterly devoid of any hint of a smile, locked onto Lucian. "But what if I don't agree?"
It seemed that if Lucian's response was even slightly off, he would strike immediately.
As though he hadn't noticed the suffocating pressure Felipe was radiating, Lucian continued to smile calmly and composedly: "Furthermore, I very much disagree with Mr. Felipe's earlier assessment of elemental magic, and I'd like to discuss that matter."
"What assessment?" Felipe felt he was having trouble keeping up with the Professor's train of thought. Moments ago they had been diametrically opposed, discussing the necromancers' and apprentices' right to choose—how had the topic inexplicably shifted to elemental magic? This caused his ready-to-strike state to ease once again.
When Ceci, "Fatty," and the other mages and apprentices had first heard Lucian's words, they had been desperately hoping he would fight for their right to choose freely without being threatened, regardless of whether he was an elemental mage. But now the sudden change in topic left their gazes thoroughly bewildered. What exactly was the Professor trying to do?
"It's Mr. Felipe's assessment that elemental magic is unable to perform human body refinement on its own. You believe that the foundation of the human body is vitality, and without its integration, elements alone cannot forge any single thing within the human body—be it blood, muscle, or any of the various impurities. Am I correct?" Lucian asked at a measured, unhurried pace.
Felipe had never expected Lucian to want to debate him on this particular topic. He laughed in disbelief: "Of course that's the case. The mysteries of the human body are not something you elemental-obsessed vandals could ever comprehend."