Chapter 1372 Witness Ceremony <TOC> Chapter 1374 Members' Stances
Translator: SumTLMan
“The Grafting Lunatic?” Angel swiftly turned his gaze towards Portia, his eyes filled with gravity. “Are you referring to Witch Dongola?”
Portia nodded gently, “It seems you’re familiar with her ‘notorious’ reputation.”
“Dongola was once part of the Research Institute. She never missed a witness ceremony in the past, and no matter who the new member was, they’d always be on the receiving end of her death threats. In fact, when I first joined the Institute, she had threatened me, suggesting she’d sew my mouth shut and graft the rear end of a vile creature onto my face,” Portia said, a hint of frost in her eyes. “Don’t mistake her words for jest, she’s deranged, capable of anything.”
“However, she wasn’t present at the recent ceremony. So, you’ve been rather fortunate.”
After hearing Portia’s words, a thought crossed Angel’s mind: it wasn’t his luck, but rather Dongola was currently navigating life and death within the Abyss…
Previously, during his time in Enchanted Mechanical City, he wondered if Dongola might be a member, and it turned out she was.
If Dongola were to show up, conflicts would undoubtedly arise, given her irrational nature.
Angel sighed. The number of alchemists he knew and had met were quite few. Besides those from the Savage Grottoes, there was Dongola, and another one was——
“I wonder, is ‘Mithril Shaper’ Jailall a member of the Research Institute?” Angel inquired.
Portia shook her head, “Jailall is close but not there yet. However, I’ve heard rumors that Muse has been scouting him in secret. We all thought that within a few years, he’d be inducted, but surprisingly, you emerged out of nowhere.”
Angel felt slightly embarrassed by her words. He wanted to say that it was all a twist of fate, but expressing that might come off as a lack of confidence.
However, before Angel could respond, Muse suddenly coughed, capturing everyone’s attention.
“Not long ago, I was discussing mechanical armaments with Angel, and his insights greatly enlightened me,” Muse began. “Unfortunately, even though I would’ve preferred a deeper conversation, I heard from Antonio that some of you grew impatient. Hence, I had to attend to this matter first.” Pausing to survey the group, he continued, “I’ve already mentioned why I called you all here, so there’s no need to reiterate.”
“I dislike dallying, so we’ll commence the witness ceremony promptly. The sooner it’s done, the sooner you can all be at ease.”
After Muse’s remarks, those around the table exchanged glances. It seemed as though there was much left unsaid, yet no one took the initiative to speak.
At that moment, Antonio, radiating a blue aura, appeared next to Muse: “My lord, before the witnessing, each member needs to make a declaration.”
Muse frowned, “Such a hassle. Well, does anyone have anything to say?”
Upon Muse’s inquiry, the first to speak was Portia standing beside Angel. She shrugged and said, “I don’t have much to say, but I have high hopes for young Angel here.”
Portia’s words were followed by a warm smile towards Angel, a clear sign of her genuine goodwill.
Angel was still trying to gather his bearings. One moment he was battling with Bruen, and the next, he found himself at the Research Institute. Before he could comprehend his role, he felt scrutinized by all. The sudden shift was a tad overwhelming. However, Portia’s smile offered him a fleeting sense of solace amidst his disorientation.
After Portia spoke, Midora also expressed her stance, “I too have high expectations for Angel. His unconventional thought process might infuse new vigor into the Research Institute.”
Following Midora’s comment, the room plunged into a prolonged silence, with no one breaking the quiet.
Amid the searching glances exchanged by the gathered crowd, Fingernail Granny shattered the stillness: “I too believe Angel harbors a profound potential.”
No sooner had Fingernail Granny’s words settled, than an oddly resonant voice interjected: “Potential is an unpredictable variable; it remains a mere possibility until forged into true power. Between them lies a chasm of challenges awaiting his——every leap.”
Under the watchful eyes of the assembly, the center of the long table began to birth a silhouette. The source of the previous utterance was, in fact, this figure.
As the silhouette manifested, a collective furrow of brows rippled across the room.
Angel’s gaze met this new entrant — a stranger to him, adorned with a dark beak-like mask that concealed everything below his nose. The mask was sharp and extended, while the left side of his face showcased mechanical components. The right side, in contrast, only revealed a pair of faintly crimson eyes. Atop his head sat a tall hat engraved with gears, and his attire too bore the trappings of clockwork elements.
At first glance, this was unmistakably an individual steeped in mechanical alchemy.
“This is an alchemist from the Harmonization Council, named Magnusson. Tread carefully around him,” Portia whispered a caution to Angel.
Magnusson? Angel pondered, unable to place the name. However, he was familiar with the Harmonization Council, as it was a subsidiary wizard organization under the Frost Moon Alliance.
Just as the Candy House and Black Castle are subsidiary organizations under Fairytale Town, the Harmonization Council holds a similar status.
Angel’s current relationship with Frost Moon was on delicate ground, so Magnusson’s sudden appearance ruffled quite a few feathers.
After all, this was the revered Research Institute.
Even if many would prefer to give the Institute a wide berth, it didn’t deter their sentimental attachment to it.
They were keen to ensure that external entanglements didn’t seep into the sanctified conference rooms of the Research Institute.
Yet now, with Magnusson speaking out, they found themselves powerless to silence him.
“The potential I speak of,” Fingernail Granny began, “differs greatly from your perception of it. What you see as one’s ultimate ability, I view as merely a step towards a much grander horizon.”
Perhaps it was the veiled barbs in Fingernail Granny’s words that cast a chill over Magnusson’s expression. “So, you’re siding with him based on the whispers that he’s brushed against the mysterious realm? Makes sense. After all, Ivo has also once touched the mysterious realm.”
Ivo? Angel perked up at the mention of a familiar name. Just recently, he had spotted that name — Ivo Shpratt — inscribed on a display case in the Research Institute, housing a peculiar artifact.
What connection could this man possibly have with Fingernail Granny?
“Rumors of him encountering the mysterious realm? Ha, these aren’t mere baseless whispers. Whether they’re true or false, deep down, you know,” Fingernail Granny remarked without hesitation. “Indeed, his brush with the mysterious is the primary reason I support him. Tell me, is there anyone else here who’s had such an encounter? What about you?”
The implication in Fingernail Granny’s words was crystal clear: an encounter with the mysterious realm was nothing less than a golden ticket into the Research Institute. A fact that was undeniable.
Unless, of course, you’ve had a similar experience; otherwise, there’s no room for debate. Fundamentally, you’re in different leagues.
Magnusson was left momentarily speechless, trapped in airtight logic. Could he really challenge the assertion that “touching the mysterious realm isn’t all that impressive”? Even if he believed so, voicing such an opinion would not only draw scoffs from those present but would also make him the laughingstock outside.
“Alright, I can concede to that point,” Magnusson relented, “but this should merely place him under observation. To grant him full membership so swiftly seems somewhat premature.” He ventured, treading more cautiously with his words.
“Who conducts the evaluation phase?” This inquiry wasn’t made by Fingernail Granny, but by the ever-observant Midora.
Magnusson hesitated for a moment, then realized that the evaluation phase is naturally overseen by the Institute’s Director. Given that the current unexpected witnessing session was initiated by Director Muse, this might imply certain matters.
Muse timely responded, “What is it, Magnusson? Do you have reservations about the witnessing session I’ve organized?”
Caught off guard, Magnusson opened his mouth, struggling to find a rebuttal. After an awkward pause, he managed, “Hasn’t his spellcraft fallen short of the standard required for a full-fledged member?”
Muse smiled, as if recalling something, and turned to Angel, “Speaking of alchemy power, I’ve been meaning to ask. There’s been a buzz in alchemy circles about captured footage of you performing alchemy at sea. While the video alone doesn’t reveal much, the final product apparently hinted at being a high-rank piece. Is this true?”
Muse’s question dumbfounded Magnusson, making him realize he had overlooked this detail. If Angel truly managed to produce such a high-rank piece, then Magnusson’s prior critique about him not meeting the standard would be entirely baseless.
Because, in the current age, for so-called master alchemists to consistently produce high-rank works is no easy feat.
Magnusson turned to Angel, his gaze imbued with a myriad of unreadable emotions.
Could an apprentice who hasn’t yet reached the status of a formal wizard truly produce such high-rank works? Although he’d seen the footage, without witnessing it firsthand, he found it hard to believe.
It wasn’t just Muse and Magnusson; all present turned their eyes upon Angel.
Their gazes conveyed a mix of emotions: some indifferent, some curious and probing, some dismissively skeptical, and others encouraging.
Under the scrutiny of many eyes, Angel paused in contemplation. The imagery of the Rhythm of the Ocean had been exposed for quite some time, but aside from a handful of apprentices from the Savage Grottoes and a select few others, only that band of demons truly understood its effects.
Regarding his venture of setting up a shop in the Abyss, perhaps due to the awakening of the demons and fears of negative repercussions, there was no record of it in the —City Firefly’s Night Whisper—. Even if there were, they wouldn’t truly grasp the specific effects of the Rhythm of the Ocean.
In the end, Angel decided to unveil the Rhythm of the Ocean.
He recognized that when confronting alchemists of supreme expertise, if one always remained low-key, it might provoke trouble. Only by revealing one’s power can one garner respect.
When the Rhythm of the Ocean was placed on the table, everyone present was captivated by its impeccable design.
Even though they had a prior glimpse of it in projections, witnessing the real item still left them in awe.
Be it the exquisite mermaid draped in gossamer, the twinkling starry dots, or the faint echoes of tidal waves emanating from the dark spiral shell, each detail was a feast for the eyes.
Setting aside its effects, the sheer aesthetics of it already showcased Angel’s refined sense of beauty at an unparalleled level.
Chapter 1372 Witness Ceremony <TOC> Chapter 1374 Members' Stances