Nobody is allowed to bully our Mint.

The Spellwhisperer Royal Magic Academy is the premier institution of magical learning in the Anna Empire.

Over the nine hundred years since its establishment, countless geniuses have been born within its walls, each leaving a bold and vivid stroke upon the pages of history.

Yet the shuttle-shaped monolith standing before the academy gates is so crowded, and the carving of names is conducted with such rigorous scrutiny, that even these favored sons and daughters of heaven—who would be considered supreme elites across the vast territories of the empire—have been ruthlessly culled by a fine-toothed comb.

The crystal-like, semi-levitating grey shuttle-shaped monolith still bears vast expanses of blank space untouched by the brand of any legendary name.

The Spellwhisperer Royal Magic Academy does not prohibit outsiders from visiting; it has specifically designated areas open to the public to satisfy people's curiosity about this ancient seat of learning.

At this very moment, Jiang Heyi is surrounded by travelers from other regions of the continent who, guided by a tour guide, are walking past the monolith erected solely to immortalize legends.

"Have you ever thought about getting your name carved up there?"

Jiang Heyi hit the nail on the head.

Having one's name carved upon the stone had once been Mint's goal upon enrollment.

Standing before the monolith once again, however, her heart is exceptionally calm, devoid of the youthful fervor and impulse of years past.

Without displaying a look of disdain or looking down upon the grand alchemists of the Anna Empire, Mint harbors a profound respect for the sages etched into the stone.

The architectural style of the Spellwhisperer Royal Magic Academy is eclectic, resembling a fusion of Baroque and Gothic designs.

Tourists can be seen everywhere among the complexes freely opened to the general public.

According to Mint, every magic academy in the Anna Empire attracts pilgrims from all corners of the continent.

The Anna Empire embraces people of different races with its overwhelming strength and inclusive policies, the former serving as the ultimate bedrock for the latter.

Throughout the long river of the empire's millennium-long history, a review of its every military campaign reveals that the outcomes generally boil down to four results: total victory, major victory, minor victory, and stalemate.

Humiliating, crushing defeats are so few and far between that the shame of defeat is unprecedented.

Had it not been for the emperor of the Anna Empire fifty years ago who publicly issued a non-expansion manifesto to maintain the existing borders, the empire would certainly not be limited to merely occupying one-fourth of the continent.

Zhong Zemo, a history teacher with a profound understanding of historical cyclicality, cannot help but ask upon hearing this.

"Was the empire's territory unwilling to expand, or could it not bear the administrative costs generated by expansion?"

Mint ponders for a moment before replying, "Both, to be sure. After all, not every race is willing to become a part of Anna, and bridging the gaps between different ethnic groups is exceedingly difficult."

The rebellions that have erupted within the Anna Empire over the past millennium are countless, tied either to the unbridled lawlessness of local lords or to the irreconcilable conflicts among various intelligent species.

Yet the primary reason this massive, bloated empire continues to stand tall is precisely its martial might, which reigns supreme across the continent.

And the vast majority of these powerhouses emerge from the various royal academies.

Currently, the empire's highest combat tier is the eighth rank.

Since NPCs and players share a single combat evaluation system, strategy guides have long since tested the waters. Combined with player feedback, the following estimation can be roughly deduced:

1 Tier ≈ 3—4 Levels

Therefore, the supreme combat powerhouse demographic of the Anna Empire roughly equates to Level 32 players.

Considering the level cap of 20 officially announced by the game, and factoring in that the comprehensive combat power of NPCs surpasses player levels, many players believe that when future version updates raise the level cap, these figures will still fluctuate.

In the current version, if players wish to punch above their weight class and forcibly slay these individuals, they must rely on coordination, strategy, battle gear, and most importantly, skill.

Without having acquired the recipe to craft a monster compendium, Jiang Heyi has no way of knowing the tiers of the entities residing within the Subterranean Temple of the Clear.

Clearly, they haven't been farming low-profile enough.

"Mint, aren't you a student here? Can't you take us on a tour of the deeper areas?" Jailer Bro asks with a hint of anticipation.

Mint scoffs coldly. "You guy, you're purely doing this to go admire the witches."

"Since we're already inside the academy, what's wrong with admiring the heroic bearing of the witches?" Jailer Bro asks righteously. "Speaking of which, are you still a part of the academy, or have you already graduated?"

While strolling toward the plaza fountain, Mint suddenly stops in her tracks, resting a hand on the brim of her hat as if intending to pull it down, yet for some reason hesitating to take the next step.

Thinking Mint has been stun-locked by his words, Jailer Bro is just about to speak when a voice cuts in from the side.

"Oh, if my eyes aren't deceiving me, isn't this Mint?"

Following the voice, a young man with light blonde shoulder-length hair approaches, leading six or seven people behind him.

The young man pushes up the monocle over his right eye, hastily takes it off, and lets out a theatrical gasp of feigned surprise.

"It really is Senior Mint. What a rare visitor."

"Is this a nostalgic return to re-experience the joys of still studying at the academy?"

Mint's hand falls away from the brim of her hat, the timidity and displeasure on her face seamlessly shifting into mockery.

"If it isn't Conrad. How is it? Still ranking dead last?"

"If I remember correctly, your scores in multiple exams were all ranked dead last, setting the strongest bottom-dwelling record in the history of the Spellwhisperer Academy."

"Keep it up. Even if you can't get your name carved on the legendary monolith, at least leave a bold and vivid mark in the academy's disciplinary records."

Clearly, a grievance has long existed between the two, and neither holds back in exposing the other's shortcomings.

Conrad possesses thick skin, maintaining a completely composed demeanor before a circle of newly enrolled freshmen.

He turns around and claps his hands, signaling the surrounding passersby to look at him.

Mint cannot help but tremble slightly, subconsciously taking a step backward and bumping into Tangerine Tea.

Pulling the brim of her hat down further, she takes hold of the hand Tangerine Tea extends to her and whispers a suggestion, "Shall we go look at somewhere else instead?"

It is too late; Conrad's booming voice broadcasts Mint's glorious deeds straight out into the open.

"Mint, your former senior student, majoring in mixology, minoring in alchemy, left the academy half a year ago."

"Left? Voluntarily?" someone asks.

"On the surface, it was voluntary. But I imagine anyone who publicly slanders their instructor and causes an explosion during an experiment due to operational errors that destroys the mixology laboratory wouldn't have the face to stay anyway."

Mint clenches her fists tightly.

"Hey, you lot, are you her friends or her guests?" Conrad smiles. "If she's running around defrauding people under the banner of the Spellwhisperer Academy, don't say I didn't warn you..."

"She's just a witch of dubious character who was lucky enough to squeeze through the quota and worm her way into the academy. She's nothing like those who have truly received the academy's systematic training."

No wonder Mint's reaction was so subtle whenever the academy she attended was brought up.

"How is my character dubious?" Mint grits her teeth, glaring fixedly at Conrad.

The crowd around them swells. While the onlookers earlier were mostly tourists from the public zone, an increasing number of people are now clad in the silver-and-crimson academy uniforms.

"Is what I said not clear enough? Slandering your instructor, questioning their mixology recipes as erroneous—private communication was clearly the instructor showing you mercy, yet you turned around and cursed your instructor as vile in the middle of class." Conrad lets out a disdainful scoff. "Did no one ever teach you the principle of respecting the sages, you wild mint with no parents?"

"Wild mint"—a taboo-like slur.

Mint's eyes instantly turn red, the insult clearly striking some painful chord within her memory.

She angrily attempts to rush forward to argue, only to be firmly held back by Jiang Heyi and Zhong Zemo.

"Look, I told you she's a person of dubious character—barbaric, vulgar, arrogant, and conceited. A disgrace to the Spellwhisperer Academy."

Jiang Heyi whispers to Mint, "I believe you."

Through their time together recently, everyone in the Reality-Fiction Boundary knows what kind of person Mint is.

Is her character dubious?

Perhaps a little; her greed and fondness for money can certainly be labeled as traits of hers.

Yet upon learning that the Reality-Fiction Boundary was heading off to "court death," she pulled out her most precious scroll to save their lives.

In Mint's perception, the Reality-Fiction Boundary members are a bunch of bumpkins with deeply flawed cognition and life experience, appearing out of nowhere.

They are not players; they are living, breathing human beings who cannot resurrect once dead. Therefore, the moment she produced that scroll, her intentions were absolute and genuine.

She had countless ways to exploit information asymmetry to fleece them through alchemy, yet after every token bit of banter, she would still confess the truth.

It feels more like a little game among friends: if discovered, they share a knowing smile; if not, she brings it up casually at an opportune moment.

Jiang Heyi stands up, his words already fully formulated.

Mint is clumsy with her words, but he certainly is not.

Jailer Bro tilts his head, an expression of utter impatience already stamped across his face.

He is equally raring to go, and his attack speed is far faster than Jiang Heyi's.

"Are your family members mass-produced wholesale? Why are you so aggressively overbearing?"

Jailer Bro initiates a verbal duel, single-handedly deregistering Conrad's family registry with his opening line. He ramps up the pressure on Conrad at lightning speed, insulting him without descending to cheap low-blows, yet every single sentence effectively strips Conrad of his human status.

What is the art of linguistic warfare? This is the art of linguistic warfare!

In truth, both Jiang Heyi and Jailer Bro possess formidable skill levels in verbal sparring.

To ask just how formidable they are...

Having surfed the internet for years, their cybernetic parents are both still alive and well.

The tag-team barrage of insults causes Mint—whose eyes had been burning red—to suddenly calm down, replaced by an inexplicable sense of catharsis. From childhood onward, whenever she was bullied, no one had ever stood up for her.

The one-sided verbal slaughter leaves Conrad's eyes bloodshot. Having never been tortured by the art of linguistic warfare, he is driven to extreme fury.

"Let's duel!"

Both opponents halt their output, staring at each other in blank dismay.

Conrad labors under a bizarre illusion, assuming his words have frightened the two of them into silence.

"What's the use of being sharp-tongued? A one-on-one duel is the ultimate truth."

"Or are you afraid?"

Afraid?

Joking aside, Jiang Heyi is merely surprised by the unlocking of this new gameplay mechanic and is wondering whether it will yield special rewards.

"Are weapons permitted?"

"If you want to use them, of course."

"Bringing your own is fine too?"

Conrad smiles. What kind of decent weapons and equipment could people dressed like this possibly have?

"If you're not afraid of making a fool of yourself, feel free to use whatever you want."

Hearing this, the volunteering Jailer Bro gestures gracefully toward Jiang Heyi, inviting him to take the floor.

Humiliated and shamed in front of so many people and having lost face, Conrad is terrified that his chance to wash away the disgrace will fly away, so he hurriedly summons his fellow students to notify the instructors.

He is going to blow the matter up, making these people and Mint lose all face and become the laughingstock of the Anna Capital.