Black Wizard Territory.
Inside the Curse Formula Research Institute, Seflin's expression was extremely grim as she stared at the documents before her, fury swirling in her eyes.
"You're telling me my Magic Plant Curse was just broken like that?"
"This curse was even one I intended to elevate into a Blood Curse—a research topic for my Formal Wizard stage. And you're saying it was just... broken?!"
Standing before Seflin was a group of Second-Class Wizard Apprentices under her control, all of them trembling in fear, worried that the enraged Seflin might vent her anger on them.
The Black Wizard apprentices kept their heads lowered, not daring to speak or meet her gaze.
At that moment, they all stole sympathetic glances at the Second-Class Wizard Apprentice who had returned to deliver this news to Seflin.
He had undoubtedly become the focal point of her wrath.
Under Seflin's furious glare and questioning, the apprentice stammered, "N-not exactly... not exactly, Senior Sister."
"Senior Sister, that Potionology Assistant named Locke Augustine just happened to crack your Curse Magic by coincidence. Yes, that must be it! With just a little more research, you can definitely optimize your curse... and then no potion he uses will work..."
Seflin was beyond furious.
The Magic Plant Curse had originally been her means of catching up to Hussein. She had spent at least five years researching it, consuming vast resources—even sacrificing time and materials that could have been used for Meditation Method training.
All in preparation for advancing to Formal Wizard.
It was a curse intended to evolve into a Blood Curse.
And yet, it had been broken by some no-name First-Class Wizard Apprentice from Lilith's Cottage.
Had it been Albert, Miranda, Astrid, or even that flamboyant extremist Angron who cracked it, she wouldn't have been this angry.
Those were old rivals.
Hussein's Blood Curse had been broken by them too, after all.
But this was just some completely unknown, ordinary First-Class Wizard Apprentice.
Seflin's eyes turned icy. She raised her middle finger and curled it slightly—immediately, the apprentice who had delivered the news let out a bloodcurdling scream as all the blood in his body began flowing backward, gushing uncontrollably from his mouth.
The blood poured out of him like water from a tap, draining every last drop from his body.
His form rapidly withered into desiccation.
"Lady Seflin... no, please don't—" The Black Wizard apprentice was utterly terrified, enduring excruciating agony as his blood reversed its flow.
Within a minute, he had been completely drained of blood, reduced to a withered husk.
Of course, as a Second-Class Wizard Apprentice who had undergone Vampire Curse Transformation, having all his blood drained wouldn't kill him—it would only cause immense suffering and severely weaken him.
These apprentices' bodies had long been implanted with countless Curse Magics by their Wizard Mentors as control measures. Every wizard apprentice was little more than a slave to their Black Wizard Mentor.
With the sole exception of those ranked within the top ten of the Wizard Seed Sequence.
Not only do Wizard Mentors leave Curse Magic within their apprentices as a means of control, but even senior students—older brothers and sisters—will go to great lengths to plant their own Curses within their juniors.
The Blood Curse Court operates in this manner, passing Curses down from one generation to the next.
Over time, an invisible web of Curses has formed over everyone in the Blood Curse Court, ensnaring them all.
And at the apex of this cursed web stands the current Blood Lord of the Blood Curse Court.
In fact, a Formal Wizard from Lilith's Cottage once proposed a theory during research—he believed that the origin of the Blood Curse Court's Blood Curse might very well have developed from this invisible network of Curses.
The Blood Curse shares similar traits with this intangible web.
Seflin's gaze was icy as she swept it across everyone in the room, her eyes like a venomous snake, always searching for an excuse to punish them and vent her malice.
All the Second-Class Wizard Apprentices—Black Wizards—kept their heads lowered, hearts pounding in fear that Seflin might suddenly lose her temper.
But just then, the door abruptly swung open.
An overwhelming wave of Magic Pressure descended upon everyone in the room, forcing even Seflin to grit her teeth and kneel.
That Magic Pressure loomed like a storm cloud over their hearts.
Small trinkets in the room began floating and falling repeatedly under its influence.
Many Vampire apprentices even started coughing up blood.
The one who entered was none other than Seflin's Wizard Mentor, Rasheed Tarir—a Wizard clad in a red Wizard robe, striding in with fury etched across his face.
Seflin struggled to lift her head, stunned. "Mentor? Why have you come?"
The next moment, Rasheed Tarir raised his hand and struck her across the face. Seflin let out a sharp cry.
Wisely, she crouched down, refusing to directly oppose her Wizard Mentor.
Rasheed Tarir's face was twisted with rage. He had only one eye—where the other should have been was an empty socket, while his sole eye sat embedded in his forehead.
That eye resembled a viewing port in a fish tank, filled with multiple irises of different colors, all jostling for space as they peered outward.
But now, every single one of those pupils was glaring at Seflin with undisguised fury.
Seflin offered a token of submission to her Wizard Mentor. "Mentor, what has angered you so? Whatever you need—research materials, manpower—I will seize it for you."
She did her best not to provoke him further, attempting to placate Rasheed Tarir's wrath.
After all, Black Wizards were different from White Wizards.
White Wizards had laws in place to protect First-Class Wizard Apprentices, and generally, these laws were quite effective on the surface.
But Black Wizard Mentors held the power to activate the Curse Magic embedded within their First-Class Wizard Apprentices.
This meant they had already handed their lives over to their mentors.
Thus, Black Wizard apprentices held even lower status, with even fewer rights.
Aside from the wizard apprentice sequence—those Wizard Seeds crucial to the next generation of the school—who receive some protection from the Blood Curse Court Academy, everyone else is fair game to kill at will.
Of course, these apprentices are the property of Formal Wizards, so under normal circumstances, these Formal Wizards wouldn't casually dispose of their own assets.
The eye on Rasheed Tarir's forehead rapidly shifted through several different pupils in a very short span of time, each one burning with fury at Seflin. "Fool! You actually went behind my back and performed such an idiotic Curse—a Magic Plant Curse?"
"Seflin, do you really think you're so clever?"
"Why, after all these years, have none of us ever considered developing Magic Plant Curses? Even though we've created specialized Curses for Magical Creatures, we never once pursued Magic Plant Curses. Do you know why?"
"Didn't I tell you this on your very first day at the academy? And now you've made me lose all face in front of my peers!!"
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