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Great victory!
Great victory!
The Magic Council achieved a great victory!
Not only did they win decisively on various battlefronts, annihilating the fleet of the Radiant Church and leveling the allied forces in Midland County, but also on the main battlefield, in the royal capital, the joint forces of the Magic Council and local nobles successfully repelled the rebels, imprisoning the newly crowned false king!
However, all of this was no longer relevant to Garrett Nordmark. After hastily meeting with his teachers, including the bald bishop, he explained that he was going to the Magic Council headquarters for further studies. Soon after, Archmage Carlisle carried him onto an airship. He had already missed three months of classes! Why delay going to headquarters for classes any longer?
Garrett found himself thrown into a training class in a large room with seventy or eighty people, filled with young boys and girls. The number exceeded that of Garrettâs middle school in his previous life. When Garrett was led in, all eyes turned towards him.
"Who is this? âWhy is he coming in so late?"
Towards the back in the middle of the classroom, a blond young man glanced backward and whispered to his seatmate. The girl sitting next to him also cast a glance at Garrett, then turned straight ahead, only the beautiful lobe of her ear subtly swaying with pearl earrings:
"I donât know... but he looks so plain, doesnât seem like the child of any master..." "He might be a student? Otherwise, how did he manage to get in? My cousin couldnât even secure a spot!" Behind the girl, another one leaned forward and whispered. Immediately, someone from across the aisle interjected:
"Yeah, they say each county only gets one spot. Age, level, research achievements, everything matters. Itâs tough!"
"Who knows whose achievements he snatched to get in..."
Garrett: "..." Seriously, do you guys think I canât hear you?
He pretended not to have heard anything.
The classmates in the classroom ranged from barely 20 to those who hadnât fully grown yet, roughly a group of students from grades eight to twelve or freshmen in college. It was a time when teenagers didnât know the taste of worry, and these were talented youths sent from various places. It was absolutely impossible for them not to gossip. Arguing with a bunch of kids, wasnât that just regressing?
Garrett selectively ignored them; after all, his original self was only 16 years old, a bit younger than the median age of this group.
He stretched his neck to look at the podium. The Magic Council had invested heavily this time, and the mages teaching them were all mages of level ten or higher. Whether the teaching was easy to understand or not, Garrett hadnât heard yet, but at least that levelâ
The first class had just begun, and Garrettâs eyes were caught by the golden thread on the teacherâs robe.
Level eleven.
Appearing to be in his forties, agile and nimble in his movements, not relying on the mage level to slow down aging, the kind of person who exuded vitality and was truly promising at level eleven.
ââIn his previous life, this would be equivalent to having a group of top professors lecturing to students in a prestigious university, wouldnât it? fđżđewebnođđđš.đ°đ¨m
He marveled silently. The teacher, with a cheerful smile, stepped onto the platform without carrying any textbooks or chalk. Placing a small box on the platform, a crisp metallic sound echoed from inside.
Garrett straightened up, gazing intently. The teacher casually waved his hand, and in the air, lines of text and drawings materialized:
"Today, letâs talk about the ăEar-piercing Whistleă. This is a level 1 sound-based spell, the foundation of the Sonokinetic spells in the plastic energy category. Pay attention, itâs not in the same category as the level 0 ăIllusory Sound Artă, and the principles are different, so when learning, never apply..."
Two spell models appeared in the air at the right moment. The black model lines, specially marked with red lines at key nodes, were clear to any mage with eyes that these two spells were significantly different and couldnât be interchanged.
Magic tricks, yet again, but compared to Master Lorenz drawing tables on the wall during the magic tower assessment, this use of magic to create illusions in the air was much more impressive. Garrett marveled silently and, along with his classmates, bowed their heads to hastily transcribe.
"The ăEar-piercing Whistleă series progresses upwards, with the 2nd level being ăShattering Sonic Wavesă, the 3rd level being ăDisturbing Noiseă, the 4th level being ăRoar Techniqueă, all the way up to the highest level, ăWail of the Bansheeă. Usually, we can cast ăEar-piercing Whistleă relying solely on the spell model without the need for casting materials..."
He paused and opened his mouth. The students in the classroom hurriedly set up various defenses â shields, mage armor, even casting a simple spell like ăEnhance Resistanceă on themselves. Once everyone was prepared, the teacher took a deep breath, and a sharp whistle pierced through.
...Good gracious, is this akin to a dolphinâs screech?
Garrettâs face contorted on the spot. Left and right, the faces of other students twisted to an extent that rendered them unrecognizable, completely losing their initial elegance. The teacher chuckled:
"In theory, a mage can use all their mental energy for casting ăEar-piercing Whistleă in a single day. However, in reality, no one does that. Do you know why?"
Why?
Garrett silently pursed his lips. The teacher noticed his movement at a glance and pointed casually, a large bright yellow mark falling on his head:
"The gentleman in the back row, please answer!"
Garrett subconsciously wanted to raise his head. Teacher, the mark on my head, is it an exclamation mark?
Or perhaps a question mark?
Are you marking me as an NPC?
He tried to focus, stood up, and answered, "The sonic attack of ăEar-piercing Whistleă, although amplified by magic, is fundamentally the mageâs own scream. Such high-frequency sounds can severely damage the vocal cords..."
Glancing around, seeing his classmates all bewildered, he immediately changed his words, "It severely damages the throat. Therefore, unless confident in oneâs healing abilities, itâs better to control the frequency of casting or keep curative potions handy."
Once a day is fine, five times a day, eight times, ten times â sir, even if your vocal cords havenât torn, they must be swollen, right?"
So which mage thought of directly using their throat to howl â couldnât you carry a flute, a whistle, or at least a tuning fork?
At the front of the classroom, the teaching mage opened the box and raised a metal tuning fork...
A low murmur filled the room. Garrett pretended to transcribe the teacherâs lecture, swiftly jotting down on his notebook, "ăEar-piercing Whistleă can use a tuning fork as a casting material, and there should be a correlation between the frequency of the sound waves and the length of the tuning fork... If you want to produce subsonic or ultrasonic waves, youâll need to find other materials..."
The mage patiently waited for the students to finish transcribing. He rummaged through the box for a moment, pulling out a piece of parchment:
"Besides causing harm, sound-based magic also has various applications. The latest issue of âOrdinary Arcane Monthlyâ features an article titled âExploring the Use of Sound Waves in Magical Detection Through Small Bat Flight Experiments,â along with the new magic created from it, which is an excellent example..."
The mage spoke at length, giving high praise for the research approach in the paper, the process of comparative experiments, the principles of magic, and the application prospects of using high-frequency echoes for environmental detection. Meanwhile, Garrett sat at the back of the classroom, with only one word echoing repeatedly in his mind:
Ultrasound!
Ultrasound!!!