Blade and Poetry

They took me to the main building of the West Court.This is the first time I have entered the area on the eighth floor that requires access control. Apart from being able to deeply feel the chaotic and strong magical atmosphere, I have no chance to see how special its interior is.There were three people left behind from the magic association, including Ryan—he half-joked on the way, "I'm also a nominal senator"—and took me to open one of the doors.

The layout inside is very direct to the heart: a long table spanning half of the room, a hard-backed seat of equal length behind it, and the solitary four-legged one that I am sitting on now facing everyone stool.

The person facing me had two grim lines on his cheeks.There was a record book in front of his desk, and Ryan and a neatly dressed woman were sitting on the left. Neither of them indicated that they wanted to make a record.

I mentally prepared all the information I knew so that I could give it to them in detail when asked.I began to recall when I first stepped onto the rooftop, what general impression I had of it, possible judgments about Lan Duo's behavior, and even prepared guesses about the magic circle.

The man wrote something down in the notebook, then finally stopped writing, and his eagle-like eyes met my gaze.

"So Mr. Vicente, your first question," he said.

I nodded, and the expected answers were spinning rapidly in my mind, like a gear waiting to be frozen in a certain section.

"What do you think," the man asked, "what kind of person is your former professor, Alvin Karajan?"

The gear fell off in a hurry, leaving a blank astonishment.

"He's one of the nicest people I've ever known," I replied instinctively. "He's a conscientious professor and a fun friend. Harsh, with a bit of a temper, but there's always something warm about him." Surprisingly gentle. I have learned a lot from his teachings."

"What does he usually teach?"

"Literature. It's that kind, poetry, novels, dramas, history. I also occasionally talk to him about some knowledge of knife skills."

"His range of activity?"

"I don't know very well. Wherever a professor can walk, he probably has the right to come and go."

"His preference?"

"Various. In general, he loves art."

The man turned a page in his logbook.

"I have found out that you are a student who is very close to him." He said indifferently as if reading official documents, "Did you ever notice any suspicious behavior by him in your private communication with him?"

Suddenly, I felt a surge of anger—an anger that didn’t know where to go.Maybe it has come up long ago, but it couldn't find the north before.My heart was burning with this anger, but my blood turned cold.This question is so ridiculous that I almost want to laugh.

I fixed my eyes on the questioner, "I need to understand what this means."

"As an interrogator, you don't need to understand any meaning in the question," the man said.

"I don't understand what 'suspicious' means, so I can't give any answers," I insisted.

The two folds on the man's face deepened.He looked at me sharply for a moment.

"A student at school doesn't have much right to question it." He said, "This is for your own good, Mr. Xiao."

I calm down the inexplicable impulse I just had—maybe I have succeeded.When I heard my voice again, it was as inhuman as the voice of the man on the other side.

"I can't say something that didn't happen," I said. "Please take my answer as 'no'."

After a moment of tense atmosphere, the female magician who had never spoken suddenly moved, breaking the cold silence in the room.

"Wait," she looked at her colleague, "he has the right."

"Onna," Ryan said.

But the sorceress went on: "He has proof of admission to the Vanguard in his file—his position will speak for him of his allegiance sooner or later. I think he has a right to know something."

The man who took the notes hesitated for a while, the pen holder twisted back and forth in his hand.

Then he said to me, "Okay, Mr. Xiao. After all, your first assignment is coming soon."

I looked directly at him.

"Your professor, Alvin Karajan, graduated from Hoftas College in 850, and was hired as a visiting professor of East College in 851. At the same time, he applied to become a professor of literature in both colleges. Columbus nationality," he said Here, he curled his lips in satisfaction, "According to records, he was born and raised in Columbus's own country, but a recent investigation by the Intelligence Department of the Magic Society shows that he was adopted by a couple in Song Country when he was 12 years old. The source is unknown. .The couple's old files are also full of doubts and have both disappeared. His birth certificate was questioned by the secondary school - this matter was suppressed at the time."

"That proves nothing," I told him.

"He claims to you that he is not from Columbus?"

"...he told me he was from Puguo."

"It's got into some of the issues we're looking at — and the safety of a student," the man said. "The most direct piece of evidence: The Medicine and Stone Department has extracted the traces of magic power left on the magic circle on the rooftop. It matches the record in Karajan's file. The magic circle was written by him."

There was a soft humming in the back of my head.I've been on the road for the past few days, and I've been in a hurry to sleep.I felt like my brain was twisted into a ball and I couldn't think any more.

The man continued: "If it wasn't for Lando Moli who accidentally broke into the loosely sealed rooftop and mistakenly activated the magic circle hidden above, that powerful formation would have remained in the center of the academy without anyone knowing it. On the main building. It may have existed for a long time, and it was perfectly covered up by the magical atmosphere from the eighth floor. If it was not in a damaged state, the magic society would not be able to extract the magic power from it so easily."

"I don't understand," I said, "Karajan is clearly a knife—"

My eyes suddenly fell on my left hand; I couldn't help but stop talking.

The man thought I was thinking of something, and his tone slowed down a bit.

"The past can be codified, but the traces of magic power are real. We have to determine that Alvin Karajan came to Columbus with some purpose," he said. "By the way, there is one more point: there is a strong restriction on the magic circle, which can seriously injure the person who forcibly activates it, and then self-destruct - but the Medicine and Stone Department has restored half of its magic pattern, which happens to retain a more interesting one. Part of it: the name collection method, and the signature AC."

"I can repeat that question to you now, Sorcerer Vicente," the man's voice fell in a series of voices, strict and just, like a good examiner, "Have you ever noticed that Alvin Any suspicious behavior by Karajan? Did you ever find him moving surreptitiously, showing any clues of planning? Did you ever see him—secretly using magic?"

The winter sun shone through the small window.I remembered that half a year ago, I was sitting on the roof of the same building, waving to him who passed by the west courtyard.I remembered that a year and a half ago, I hid in the hidden circle near the gate of the building, and saw him walking towards me with a smile.

I think of my carefree drawing of his eyes that summer.I once saw the same pair of eyes at night in Yuzhen; they were caught off guard by me, and after an unknown tune was repeated intermittently, they seemed to be full of indescribable emotion and sorrow.

The recorder in front of me noticed my helplessness, and a sneer seemed to flash across his face, pointing his pen at me, waiting for my answer.

But the moment I saw his expression clearly, I seemed to suddenly know how to place my hands and feet.

I settled down under his approaching gaze, trying to make my next words speak out smoothly and firmly.

"My answer is 'no,' sir," I said. "Objectively speaking, I just haven't seen Professor Karajan do any of the things you mentioned above, and I don't think he'd expose them to the public. Me; they could still happen. I can't say for sure, but I don't blindly deny either."

I looked him in the eyes: "But I would like to make a few additional personal points - if you need more confessions from me, sir. Karajan is the most honest, sincere, and noble person I have ever met. I Believe in his character, I know his soul well. Up to this moment, I am willing to maintain these views of mine, and I am willing to vouch for them."

The face of the person opposite turned slightly blue.He asked a few more innocuous questions, and finally briefly turned to Lan Duo's situation.They took me up to the rooftop to check the remaining magic circle and asked me if I had any ideas.The magic circle has been maintained in a half-energized state, and most of the magic patterns are slightly glowing.The graphics are weird, but I somehow feel familiar with it, as if it somehow resonates with my memory.

I even knew after a few glances that in front of me was a broken teleportation circle.

I did not express any similar opinion to them; so the questioning was closed here.The large window leading to the rooftop was locked again behind us, and Ryan and other members of the magic society stayed in the main building and let me leave first.

All the memories rushed into my mind in a very chaotic manner, rushing to appear first and then shrinking back.I thought of so many little details on the way that I wasn't even sure I'd walked past the apartment.I fumbled unconsciously in my pocket with my hand, slipping the ring back and forth between my fingers, letting the cold ring wrap around my fingertips.

I saw Odd hurrying toward me from a distance, and I called to him, "Odgo!"

He walked up to me, some distance away, and said a little vigilantly, "Hello."

"I know about Lan Duo." I said to him, "Coleman told me this morning. The roof of the west courtyard..."

Odd suddenly interrupted me and said suspiciously, "...you are Vicente?"

I immediately realized the reason, took off the ring in my pocket, and saw that he seemed to be relieved.

"Your trick," he sighed.

"What do I look like?"

"Every detail of the facial features and face shape has changed. Although the difference is not big when viewed individually, it is indeed difficult to tell that they are the same person together." He thought for a while, "Except for the eyes. The eyes are still exactly the same when you look closely. "

"I'll explain this to you later, it seems to be a magical object," I saw his eyes brighten, "I have a more critical question to ask now."

"I'm listening," Odd said.

"It stands to reason-when the magic power of the person outside the hidden formation is higher than that of the person who drew the formation, is the hidden formation equivalent to non-existence for him?"

"That's right," said Odd.

My heart dropped slightly, better than nothing.

"So," I chose my words carefully, "whether it's a swordsman or a magician, as long as their magic power is deep enough, this situation will always apply?"

I saw Odd give me a slightly surprised look.

"No, the above content does not include swordsmen - your theoretical knowledge is really bad." Odd said, "The magic power systems of the two are completely inconsistent. The reason why magicians can see through the concealment array, except for him The depth of the magic power makes him aware of the details, and he has used the battle pattern countless times before to expose the operation of the magic circle to his eyes. How can the swordsman do this?"