So, in the following "intense" match, Schrödinger's wand became the most eye-catching protagonist, stealing the show. Some of the impressive feats included but were not limited to:
Enlarging Cyril's person-sized fireball to twice its size, almost singeing Philip's clothes within arm's reach.
Transforming Philip's cool freezing spell into about 10 seconds of heavy snowfall on the stage...
The new students watching below unexpectedly witnessed a pretty impressive magic performance.
Apart from occasionally feeling regretful about betting the wrong chips, the rest of the time was quite enjoyable.
Finally, as the sand in the hourglass was about to run out, Cyril swiftly cast a "binding spell" to trip Philip and snatched his wand, fulfilling the requirement that his opponent couldn't continue attacking when the match time ended, winning the game.
It's worth noting that when Philip held the wand and left the stage, his face showed a hint of relief, containing various complex emotions.
"Does anyone else want to continue challenging?"
The wooden puppet referee's head turned 180 degrees left and right, surveying the new students around.
Everyone was somewhat hesitant.
After all, Cyril had displayed considerable power just now – being able to unleash potent spells without a wand. Who knew if he had any more tricks up his sleeve?
Although some of the new students did have magical items that could be used for offense, they were already aware of the upcoming unknown wizard apprentice grading trials. If they depleted their resources now, they might be in trouble when they encountered more challenging or rewarding situations later.
Everyone was in deep thought.
The scene fell silent for a moment, with no one responding.
Seeing that no one else wanted to challenge, Cyril breathed a sigh of relief, his almond-shaped eyes curved.
A thousand wizard crystals in hand!
The feeling of being rich increased!
Seeing no one accepting the challenge, the puppet referee paused for a moment and then said, "Cyril Lawrence..."
Its voice was steady, without fluctuations.
Cyril looked up at the puppet referee, planning to ask where he could collect his wizard crystal reward after it finished speaking.
"If you are willing to have another match with me, and if you win, the 'Black Heart' restaurant on the 'Blake' ship, as well as all other facilities, will be free for you."
The mechanical voice of the puppet referee resounded clearly in everyone's ears.
Cyril was momentarily stunned upon hearing this.
Free access to the Black Heart restaurant!
The reward was indeed generous, but what about the strength of this puppet referee...
It seemed the puppet referee could sense Cyril's concerns as it continued, "My abilities will be suppressed to match your level, so you can rest assured."
"What if I lose?" Cyril quickly thought of this point; he didn't want to return the wizard crystals he had just won.
"If you lose, the previous reward of 1000 wizard crystals for defending the stage remains, but you won't be able to obtain the rewards for this match," the puppet referee replied.
Such a good deal?
Cyril looked at the puppet referee intently but found nothing unusual about it.
Then, a young boy's clear voice spoke up.
"I accept the challenge."
This time, the group led by Paris, who had won five times the chips in the previous round, firmly placed their bets on Cyril again.
Many new students' gazes were still shifting between Cyril and the puppet referee, hesitating about whether to support Cyril.
Cyril, however, didn't notice any of this. He lowered his eyes and contemplated why the puppet referee had asked for another match with him.
What aspect did "matching his strength" refer to? Mental power? Magical ability? Physical fitness?
Before long, Cyril and the puppet referee stood at opposite ends of the circular stage. Another wooden puppet dealer took the referee's place for this match.
"Get ready!"
It raised its voice.
Cyril clenched and then released his fists, taking a deep breath.
The new students watching below fell silent, nervously watching the match.
"3! 2! 1! The match begins!"
Just as the countdown ended, the wooden puppet on Cyril's side launched an attack.
It sent a fireball spell directly toward Cyril's head.
The size and speed of this fireball were identical to those Cyril had cast in the previous match.
Cyril agilely dodged to the side, raising an eyebrow in thought.
"Inferno Blaze!"
He quickly chanted the spell. After thousands of practices, Cyril could now guide his magic to form the runes almost instantaneously.
A fireball twice the size of the one the wooden puppet had just released shot toward its neck.
The puppet, in the same manner, sidestepped the attack, mirroring Cyril's movements precisely.
In the next moment, the wooden puppet released a fireball of the same size and speed as Cyril's.
It was as if the puppet were a copy machine, replicating everything Cyril did with remarkable precision.
To the spectators, it seemed as if there were two Cyril Lawrences fighting on the stage. Their attack stances, the size of their magic, and even their habitual left and right steps while running were identical.
The only obvious difference was that one had hair, and the other didn't.
After a short while, Cyril was panting as he dodged the puppet's attacks. He realized that he couldn't continue like this. How could you defeat yourself? It was a profound philosophical question.
But Cyril didn't want to ponder such mysterious philosophical questions right now.
Since the puppet was mimicking him, it must have a pattern to follow. Cyril needed to find a way to break that pattern quickly.
[System, provide a new set of attack strategies!]
[Understood!]
Cyril gave up on magic attacks and switched to close combat. With the help of the system's guidance and predictions, he managed to hold his ground against the puppet, but only barely.
Fortunately, Cyril noticed that the puppet didn't naturally mimic him. Instead, it had a very brief learning period.
When he changed his attack strategy using the system, the puppet needed some time to react.
This indicated that the puppet could only replicate what it had observed so far. Cyril's unexhibited magic remained beyond its capabilities.
Although the puppet's reaction time might be less than 15 seconds, it was enough!
Cyril began to employ all his tactics to force the puppet into a small area.
Cyril maneuvered skillfully on the circular stage, dodging while the wooden puppet released more attacks it had learned from him. Cyril couldn't avoid taking some damage.
But Cyril's almond-shaped eyes remained bright. With careful observation, one would notice his delicate lips softly moving as if whispering something.
When Cyril quickly dodged another "Corrosive Arrow" and rolled to the edge of the circular stage, he whispered, "Crackling Explosion!"
At the moment he chanted the spell, Cyril felt all the magic in his body being drained instantly. Even this spell seemed to continuously demand something, trying to invade his mind and take away the remaining mental strength.
His face turned pale, and his exquisite features showed clear signs of pain.
Cyril collapsed onto the stage, unable to withstand the strain.
At the same time, the wooden puppet froze in place, as if bound by an invisible force, unable to move.
Then, with a loud "bang," the entire wooden puppet exploded into pieces.
This explosion was even more spectacular than the fireworks initially displayed by Schrödinger's wand, truly awe-inspiring.
Cyril struggled to prop himself up with his arms, raised his head, and watched in amazement as the wooden puppet disintegrated into scattered fragments.
He had read about this spell in the "Guide to Cooking Strange Creatures" – the "Crackling Explosion," a small incantation the author had created for explosively frying chubby-headed fish in a small pond.
Cyril silently glanced at the debris scattered around, blinking his eyes.
He had expected some damage from this spell, as it was meant for exploding fish, but he hadn't anticipated its strength would be so overwhelming!
The book clearly mentioned, "Considering the universality of this spell, it deliberately uses a longer chant to accumulate magic power, making it a simple 'idiot-proof' minor spell that even apprentice wizards can use successfully."
Well, did the author of this "Guide to Cooking Strange Creatures" have some misunderstanding about the term "idiot-proof"?
Cyril's thoughts drifted, and he couldn't help but wonder. Even the rigid wooden puppet had been blown to smithereens. Were the chubby-headed fish in the small pond actually armored fish?
Or had he missed some crucial points and needed to carefully examine the creature description of the chubby-headed fish when he got back?
But for now, Cyril finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Although things didn't go as he had originally planned, they still ended the same way – by defeating the wooden puppet.
After chanting the "Crackling Explosion" spell, his mental and magical energies were completely depleted. At this moment, he was physically drained, unable to continue the match.
"Is the match over?" Cyril slowly climbed to his feet from the ground.
He adopted a calm posture, walked over to the wooden puppet dealer responsible for officiating the match, and confidently said, "I commend your skills, Mr. Laurence."
The wooden puppet dealer nodded, placing its gloved right hand over its left chest and bowing slightly as a sign of respect.
"Your reward will be presented by Mr. Papitt, the butler, shortly," it continued.
Cyril acknowledged with a soft response and then walked off the circular stage.
The intense battle from earlier had left his jet-black, slightly curly hair scattered, loosely hanging on both sides of his cheeks. His fair complexion now appeared exceptionally pale, and his long, curled eyelashes trembled slightly with his breath, making him look like a delicate and fragile butterfly.
However, at this moment, no one would think of Cyril as soft and fragile like he appeared. The crowd willingly made way for him, their admiring and awestruck gazes fixed on the warrior who had shattered the indomitable wooden puppet.
"You lost," Brian looked at the image displayed on the crystal ball in front of him, a smile playing on his lips.
He sat in a relaxed posture, exuding an air of ease.
"I never expected this!" Chris murmured softly.
He hadn't anticipated that there would be such a genius among the new students! Undoubtedly, a genius who could effortlessly wield magic without the aid of a wand. His unassuming demeanor concealed the ability to peel away his opponent's skin in a fight.
No, it was not just peeling away a layer of skin!
This new student had directly blown his meticulously crafted wooden puppet to smithereens!
Damn it, how infuriating!
Chris stared fixedly at the image on the crystal ball, only shifting his gaze away when he saw Cyril leaving the gambling hall.
Wait, why did the headmaster look so familiar with this new student? They must have had a prior relationship!
Why else would the headmaster insist on changing the match to a challenge and be so confident that he would win? Furthermore, even after Cyril won a match, the headmaster requested to pit his own wooden puppet against this new student and offered him the reward of free access to the restaurant!
Brian paid no attention to Chris muttering to himself nearby. He caught sight of Cyril's somewhat pale and exhausted appearance and the faint traces of blood on his fair hand, his expression momentarily shifting as his smile faded.
In the depths of his peach-blossom eyes, concealed behind the single lens, a mysterious and unfathomable meaning stirred.
Brian suddenly stood up, leaving Chris with a parting remark before his departure, "Remember to deliver the gift you've prepared on time."
The words of the undead sorcerer lingered coldly in the room, but he was already nowhere to be seen.
As the headmaster left, it seemed his mood had taken a turn for the worse again. After all, he was the one who had lost the bet!
"Damn, both of them are so infuriating!" Chris cursed inwardly, lamenting the wizard crystals he would now have to spend on the gift. He still needed to save money to buy a pretty dress! Life was not easy for him!
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Cyril exited the gambling hall.
He was now famished and utterly exhausted.
His steps were unsteady, stars dancing before his eyes. Combined with his ashen complexion, he looked like a non-human entity trying its best to mimic human bipedal locomotion.
When he finally reached the door of his room, he nearly stumbled onto it.
Once inside, Cyril promptly flung himself onto the bed, feeling as if he had fallen into a fluffy cotton cloud.
It didn't take long for him to drift into a deep sleep.
In Cyril's dream, he didn't see the soft white light emanating from the rose necklace around his neck, which instantly enveloped him.
This gentle white light silently spread throughout his body, meticulously healing all his wounds. Cyril could only feel like someone was giving him a massage in his dream. The techniques were skilled and gentle, not only soothing his physical fatigue but also replenishing his depleted mental and magical energy.
The healing white light carefully examined every inch of Cyril's body, ensuring that no spot was left untreated, before gradually fading away.
In his dream, Cyril left the massage parlor satisfied and arrived at a seafood city.
He looked at the tantalizing seafood dishes displayed, and his stomach rumbled. Tears welled up at the corners of his mouth.
However, just as Cyril was about to reach for the dishes, the seafood in front of him suddenly vanished, and he was left empty-handed.
Cyril woke up abruptly, opening his eyes in a daze.
Before him was still the first-class cabin of the Blackthorn Cruise, with intricate patterns on the ceiling intertwined with each other.
Upon checking the time, he realized he had slept until midnight!
Cyril sat up and, recalling the interrupted dream, he heard his stomach growling with dissatisfaction.
It was time for a grand meal, and he hoped the restaurant was still open!
After all, having finally won against the wooden puppet, he needed to recoup his expenses!
Cyril eagerly got out of bed.
To his surprise, he felt as if all his energy had been fully restored when he stood on his feet. Abundant mental and magical energy coursed through his body.
The effect of that nap was unexpectedly wonderful!
Cyril marveled at it.
At that moment, a polite and courteous knocking sound came from the door.
The person outside first gently knocked, paused for a second, and then slightly increased the force, tapping twice consecutively.
Cyril opened the door, and there stood Mr. Papitt, the butler of the Blackthorn Cruise.
The wooden puppet butler politely nodded to him and handed Cyril a brass card.
This brass card was exceptionally exquisite, with a blooming black rose on the back, and the center of the rose had an image of a balance scale.
On the other side of the brass card, Cyril could see numbers displayed in small frames – "1000."
Cyril understood that after consuming wizard crystals, the number on the card would decrease to reflect the remaining balance. This was a membership card of the Black Rose Consortium, similar to the one he had seen Philip use at the Heartless Restaurant.
"Considering that Mr. Laurence currently lacks a convenient tool to store wizard crystals, I took the liberty of preparing this Black Rose Consortium membership card for you. It contains 1000 wizard crystals, which is your reward for winning the challenge. This Black Rose Consortium membership card is universally accepted on the Wizarding Continent. If you wish to exchange it for physical wizard crystals, I will arrange it immediately," explained the wooden puppet butler, pointing to the brass card in Cyril's hand.
"Thank you, Mr. Papitt! There's no need to exchange it for wizard crystals; this is perfect," Cyril nodded and expressed his gratitude to the butler.
Then, Cyril noticed that the butler took out a thick green-covered book.
Cyril accepted it with some confusion. When he opened it, he found that the paper inside the book was smooth and high-quality, made of fragrant sheepskin parchment. On it was a series of words that were currently tugging at Cyril's heartstrings: Smooth Butterfish Balls, Sautéed Blackfish Rolls, Blue Coconut Lobster, Soft-Fried Phoenix Tails...
"This is the menu of the Blackthorn Cruise restaurant, containing all the dishes and drinks available in the restaurant. When you want to place an order, just touch and hold the dish's name on the menu. When the name lights up in red, it means your order is successful. Shortly afterward, the waitstaff will deliver the prepared dishes to you," the wooden puppet butler explained dutifully.
"If there are any dishes you'd like to have that are not on the menu, you can provide feedback to me, and I will arrange for the chefs to add them to the menu. Additionally, according to the agreement, your dining and other activity expenses on the Blackthorn Cruise are all waived," the puppet butler added.
Such attentive service left Cyril pleasantly surprised. Dining at the Heartless Restaurant was indeed an achievement. After thanking the butler, Cyril returned to his room.
Since there was a door-to-door food delivery service, Cyril didn't need to go to the restaurant to dine specially. After all, while other new students were still eating black bread, indulging in delicious food might attract unnecessary jealousy.
Cyril carefully and quickly perused the menu, his demeanor as serious and meticulous as reading two magic books. He soon made his decision and placed his order, eagerly awaiting the delivery.
Before long, there was a soft knocking sound at the door.
The wooden puppet waiter had brought the freshly cooked feast and informed Cyril that he could leave the empty dishes outside the door when he was done, and they would be collected promptly.
The seafood barbecue feast was sumptuous: there were succulent, aromatic Eight-Tentacle Octopus with sauce; crispy and tender Salted Pepper Shrimp, with a fragrant, crispy shell and juicy, succulent flesh; and the tender, golden-colored King Crab...
The smooth macaroni enveloped the rich sauce perfectly; the enticing onion soup had a piece of cheese-covered toast floating on its surface; the soft Black Forest cake slowly melted on the tongue...
Mmm, it was so delicious!
Cyril leisurely enjoyed his wonderful dinner, feeling satisfied and letting out a small burp.
Having thoroughly enjoyed his meal, Cyril felt wide awake and even wanted to take a walk on the deck to aid digestion.
So, he quietly left his room, arriving on the cruise ship's deck.
At this moment, a bright moon hung high in the night sky, casting its cool and clear moonlight onto the vast sea, creating shimmering ripples.
The night was deep and mysterious, the sea was calm, and everything around seemed to have fallen into a peaceful slumber, exuding tranquility from the depths of the sea.
Cyril stared at the tranquil seawater, suddenly hearing a familiar voice beside him.
"Can't sleep?"
The man's deep and elegant voice was magnetic.
Cyril, like a startled deer, widened his beautiful almond-shaped eyes, long and curly eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings, and turned his head to look at the source of the voice.
The profile of the wizard teacher still appeared astonishingly handsome under the clear moonlight.
With his long and curled eyelashes casting a faint shadow beneath his eyes, his eyes were dark and deep, resembling the depths of the night.
"Mr. Scott... Good evening?" Cyril was somewhat surprised to encounter Mr. Scott, whom he hadn't seen in a while. He politely greeted him, his youthful voice clear and soft.
Although it was somewhat coincidental for the two of them to meet on the deserted deck in the middle of the night...
Cyril's heart raced.
Could it be... Mr. Scott was planning to do something to him again?!
"I took a nap in the afternoon, and I'm not sleepy now, so I came out for a walk," Cyril replied, trying to appear nonchalant under the other's scrutinizing gaze.
"I see..." Brian murmured softly, his voice so soft it was almost like a whisper.
He glanced casually at Cyril, who seemed to have regained his energy, and then casually said, "Would you like to see what's beneath the sea?"
Cyril: ???
What did you say? Beneath the sea?
Cyril blinked rapidly in surprise.
Mr. Scott's voice, even lower and huskier in the moonlight, carried an irresistibly enticing tone.
Brian gazed at Cyril's suddenly widened, beautiful eyes, so large and round, and his long, curly eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.
He looked so obedient, but he had enough power to explode even the wooden puppets of wizards.
Thinking of this, Brian's lips curled slightly, and a glimmer of interest sparkled in his eyes. The monocle on his eye quickly reflected a moonbeam.
In the next moment, Cyril felt Mr. Scott's warm body approach suddenly, and the unique, faintly sweet scent enveloped him.
Mr. Scott's strong and muscular arm tightly encircled his waist.
Then, the wizard teacher held him and lightly tapped the ground with his feet, and in an instant, they jumped into the air.
Cyril's pupils suddenly contracted as he felt them falling straight down from mid-air towards the pitch-black sea.