Chapter Nine: The White Phoenix

Osyclis closed her eyes, her whole body trembling—the one being made a mockery of on stage was her student. The laughter from the audience felt as if her face was being slapped in public, stripping her of all dignity. After today’s examination, she would no longer have the face to remain at the academy.

There was nothing in this world that could save her. All were mere fantasies. Her fate was to go to Dragon’s Nest City and spend her days among dragons.

It seemed that the time was right. The examiner finally spoke.

“All right, Mr. Stewart.” The examiner looked at the mirror, smiled, and then turned to Osyclis, saying, “If Mr. Lufield is humiliated any further, Miss Osyclis might feel sorry for him.”

The person in the mirror gave a slight bow, his smile both mocking and amused, casting a glance at the pale-faced Osyclis before turning, with evident interest, to Helen and Louis, awaiting the last two lambs for the slaughter.

Meanwhile, Lufield had already left the stage in utter dejection amidst the uproarious laughter. Tyres clutched his stomach, laughing heartily, clearly still under the spell and ignorant of what Lufield’s failure would mean.

“That was a spectacular dance!” Tyres laughed, holding his belly. “Louis, did you learn it? Go and dance with our esteemed evil spirit.”

At these words, Lufield’s face turned ashen, and he shot Tyres a look filled with venomous resentment. The people in the hall recalled Lufield’s humiliating performance and laughed even harder.

Tyres was under the spell; Osyclis did not blame him. But she herself felt as if her face were drained of all color.

Her last hope had been shattered.

Helen was utterly incapable of dealing with that entity. She would be humiliated in front of everyone, lose all dignity, and forfeit her future. Osyclis was finished—she could not drag her sister down with her.

She pressed her lips together and looked at Louis, despair glimmering in her eyes. “Louis…”

That single utterance of his name made the audience laugh even harder.

[In that moment of despair, Osyclis actually sought help from a ‘Confucius’ type who only talked and never acted? Truly theatrical.]

[Perhaps, in Osyclis’s subconscious, it was natural to turn to someone for help in her darkest hour—even if she had not yet realized this herself.]

[Hundreds of eyes were now focused on the so-called ‘Louis VI’, the jester on stage. As the Witch Queen ‘Delphinia’ had said, today’s performance would be extraordinary.]

Amidst the noise of the hall, hundreds of gazes converged on the jester who stood with arms folded, coolly observing.

Under this scrutiny, Louis slowly walked onto the stage. Amid the laughter, he solemnly greeted the audience in each room, hand to chest and head bowed.

Then, he cleared his throat and, in Osyclis’s despair, drew a small slip of paper from his sleeve. He began to wave his wand around haphazardly, reciting from the paper a long, convoluted spell, all while the crowd roared with laughter and Mr. Stewart in the mirror stared in utter shock.

The laughter surged again; even a minister’s secretly cradled crystal ball emitted a melodious female giggle.

At this moment, Lufield, watching from the sidelines, felt both relief and discomfort.

Relief because, although everyone had embarrassed themselves today, at least Louis was there to take the brunt!

He had never found Louis so endearing.

Discomfort because, despite having wagered everything against this demonic entity, he had lost.

Mr. Stewart was simply too powerful—even sealed, Lufield felt powerless before him.

There was no way to win.

Everything was over; after today, none of the five would have a good outcome.

Osyclis, too, was pale as she watched Louis perform on stage, dizziness threatening to overwhelm her—she had actually believed in Louis.

Now it was over, everything was over, and Louis had cheated in public! Her career as a professor was finished.

Yet, not long after, Osyclis’s eyes widened in sudden realization: the spell Louis recited was not the one she had given him!

This fool had copied the wrong spell?!

My heavens!

Unlike everyone else, Stewart in the mirror wore an extremely strange expression. He had just tried, through the mirror, to extend his shadow into Louis’s mind, using telepathy to search for his fears, hoping to let his ‘nightmare seed’ flourish there.

But the only emotions in Louis’s heart were excitement and curiosity?

Well, excitement and curiosity would suffice; any powerful surge of emotion could cause the seed to sprout—pride, greed, fear, obsession, anger, sorrow, all could be exploited.

But soon, Stewart found that Louis’s mind had suddenly become like stagnant water—he could no longer read any emotion or thought.

For a moment, Stewart recalled a remarkable technique, not a spell, but a method for closing one’s mind—the Brain Lock.

Brain Lock?!

Impossible!

Stewart panicked, trying to trigger his nightmare seed to disturb Louis’s mind, but found he could no longer control it!

Suddenly, Stewart looked at the person reciting from the slip of paper before the mirror, and cold sweat broke out over his entire body.

A mere bookworm? This was a true sorcerer!

What terrified Stewart even more was that the nightmare seed he had planted was growing just right—not erupting, but allowing Louis to grasp it and continuously cast the exorcism spell, making escape impossible!

It was as if Louis had deliberately let the seed grow in his mind before sealing his brain.

Stewart wondered if it was a coincidence, but he had no time to ponder further. He quickly tried to hide the nightmare seed lest it be discovered, but at that moment, he saw the sorcerer outside the mirror flash a strange smile at him.

‘He found me?’ Stewart’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He found me?!”

He lunged at the mirror, pounding on its surface. “The examination is over! Over! Damn it, stop that man!”

But to Stewart’s despair, the crowd in the hall burst into another wave of laughter!

He felt like a prisoner, hands bound, locked in a cell, coaxed to the bars only to be seized by the collar and beaten, while the examiner who should have helped him simply grinned foolishly.

‘Mr. Stewart. No one can help you now…’

A voice suddenly echoed in Stewart’s mind, making his scalp tingle.

His nightmare seed was completely under control!

Then Stewart saw a burst of intense light, and in its radiance, an uncontrollable terror spread in his heart. He let out a bloodcurdling scream and began to run wildly within the mirror, just as Lufield had before.

This scene made Osyclis and Lufield stare wide-eyed, while the laughter in the hall grew louder and louder; many noble ladies wiped tears of mirth with their handkerchiefs, thinking this was yet another prank by Mr. Stewart in the mirror.

Clearly, no one could help the now hopeless Mr. Stewart.

When the brilliant light appeared a second time, the professors of the academy rubbed their eyes hard—the wand in Louis’s hand was shining with the image of a white phoenix.

It was the effect of the exorcism spell.

‘A sealed nightmare… Such an opportunity is rare indeed.’

Louis shook out his slightly sore arm and glanced at the sidebar, where a [+1 exorcism mastery] notification appeared, then continued to wave his wand and recite the exorcism spell for the third time.

He intended to level up the spell to lv2 today.

As he recited the spell once more, Osyclis and Lufield stared numbly at Louis, watching as the magical radiance once again burst forth from his wand.

When the white phoenix’s glow enveloped the mirror, the person within, whose steps had almost ceased, resumed his frantic running, as Tyres had just done below.

At this point, the laughter in the hall became intermittent; even Helen had stopped crying, staring blankly at the mirror.

Only a few noblewomen, unfamiliar with magic, continued to laugh foolishly.

When those rays of light began to flash repeatedly from the wand, the hall gradually fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Now, both stage and audience were hushed.

Only the jester’s chanting could be heard on stage.

And the wailing and desperate cries of the evil spirit trapped inside the mirror.