Silent Crown

Chapter 201 You Again!

"Moreover, they have a fatal weakness."

"Tell me." Ingmar seemed interested.

"It’s true that the history department has enjoyed the limelight since the start of school because of that failure and Eastern kid. They’ve even entered the concertmaster group. But that doesn’t mean the department is any different from before. It’s the opposite. Because of Ye Qingxuan’s activeness, the department is in an even more dangerous and awkward position.

"Their advantages have always been reaction speed and tough tricks, but their weakness is just as obvious. It’s their actual strength. Their strength can’t even be compared to other schools," Bart said. "Because of this, they prepared so many ways beforehand to offset the difference in numbers. Yes, their strategies were very successful and shook the School of Modifications, allowing them to completely control the rhythm. But these tricks can only be used once. If we prepare well, it’s only a matter of time before they’re defeated."

Bart looked down at the illusion in the aether ball. A sliver of cold light flashed past his eyes. "And anyway, isn’t controlling the enemies’ situation what the School of Summoning is best at? The same tricks won’t work on us."

Ingmar was silent for a while before chuckling lightly. "Very good, Bart. I am pleased. You didn’t allow your hatred and anger to make you hot-headed. Logic and knowledge are the best weapons for the School of Summoning. I anticipate the day you defeat that Eastern kid."

-

"Did you all hear clearly?" In the other locker room, a leopard cat on the ground side-eyed the students sitting obediently on the benches. Beside the cat, a silver fly fluttered its wings. Ingmar and Bart’s voices traveled from the other room.

The sounds gradually stopped. The cat glanced at the fly and the fly disintegrated into a pile of dust. Only two "fly wings," which were used as summoning mediums, floated down.

This was one type of phantom beasts developed by the School of Modifications—a certain type of byproduct of detection technology. They were not as sensitive as originally thought, but they were more secretive. If they were hidden and unmoved, they would not create many aether waves.

The leopard cat yawned lazily. Its beastly eyes were filled with humane brilliance. It was Ludwig’s incarnation. "Look at them and then look at you." Ludwig exhaled loudly through his nose. "I’ll be much less worried if you all can have some brains! You don’t even care about strategy and just do everything forcefully. Don’t be like the unlucky team from Modifications and get toyed as soon as you enter the field."

"Rest easy, Professor." The lazy girl before the leopard cat whistled. "That won’t happen, even if we get the history department next."

"Huh, James and those idiots thought the same thing."

"But we have different strengths, and a game is still a game. Unless we’re allowed to kill people, Modifications will always be the most restricted team." The girl scoffed and suddenly laughed. "After all, if we have an advantage in numbers, then we’ll have the biggest advantage."

The large black cheetah in her arms woke and yawned lazily. It rubbed against its owner with its head, squirmed, and went back to sleep. Under the bench, beside her feet, in the lockers of the room, behind her, in the corner…nineteen black cheetahs yawned in unison, as if their yawns were contagious.

One seemed to have slept enough and stretched, scratching the ground. With a screech, a deep gash appeared in the smooth floor. Above the cheetah, a colorful parrot cawed. It flapped its wings and flew.

The locker room, large enough for thirty people, instantly became filled with flying and jumping animals. Shadow leopards, steel-back apes, six-eyed lava dogs, eight-limbed crawlers, silver-scaled snakes in clay pots, constantly-changing mist spirits sealed inside a glass flask…these strange creatures that had been raised inside musicians’ minds were now let loose in reality. They cried happily, making a flurry of sharp noises.

"Preparation is a must." Ludwig gazed at the girl helplessly. "Elsa, have I spoiled you all too much? The Professor is talking. At least sit properly."

"Professor, relax." Elsa rubbed her hands in excitement. "Other than the School of Royalty, just wait for me to completely cream the rest…"

Ludwig sighed. The leopard cat blurred and disappeared. The last moment before vanishing, it looked back in a certain direction with a gloating smile. It seemed that some people were going to lose their temper.

-

The locker room of Modifications was in ruins now. After fiery winds and thunderous storms had swept through, all the students looked like refugees. Their faces were burnt black and they looked pathetic.

"You lost?! You actually lost!" The cracking of ice and crackles of flames mixed together, forming Egor’s roar. James and others hung their heads and stood obediently in the corner of the wall for punishment.

The other team had been dragged into this for no reason and was not far better.

"I can accept losing to Revelations, Summoning, or Royalty, but you lost to the department that is close to being scrapped? How humiliating is that? Tell me, how humiliating is this?!"

The students hung their heads obediently and did not dare to reply.

"Seems like your training is too light. After today, everyone will meditate in the thunder pool for three hours before you sleep! If you can’t make it, no one’s allowed to eat. James, did you hear me?!"

James nodded with a bitter expression. "Yes, Professor."

"And you!" The frost and fire voice turned, landing on another student. "What are you still waiting for? Glenn, go pick the lot! If you get those b*stards from the history department, use your most powerful music score to wipe them out! Did all the formulas go to waste?!"

Glenn hurriedly stammered a reply and fled. He heard another boom come from the locker room and wiped cold sweat from his forehead. In all these years, no team had caused all four schools to become unlucky at the same time…

Now, the history department was a durian-like player. Spiky, inedible, and with a foul smell…Those *ssholes would drag their opponents to their lowly level and then use their rich experience to defeat the opponents. They were tricky as f*ck.

Apparently the East believed in star reincarnation. Was Concertmaster Ye the reincarnation of some baneful star? It seemed that no one related to him would have good results.

Thinking of this, Glenn could not help but sigh. "Hopefully I won’t get him again. Otherwise, everyone would have it bad."

Thankfully, they might be able to win if they went all out…They could use strength, numbers or observe each and every of the opponents’ moves. Each school had their own solution. And if they could set down their determination, they could win a lot.

The history department probably had more than ten thousand points now, right?

A glimmer of cold light flashed past Glenn’s eyes. The risk was worth all those points. He began calculating carefully.

Similarly, at the high podium for the lot picking, everyone exchanged glances. After collecting all the information, they all glanced at the history department. It was such a rich lump of meat. It all came down to how it would be eaten.

Glenn, Bart, and Elsa glanced at each other’s expressions. After realizing that they all had the same idea, they instinctively grew cautious. Behind them all, Banner watched coolly from the side. Rather than joining their fight, he looked off into the distance. Beside him, the manticore’s eyes rolled, making it seem more menacing. Stared at by those beastly eyes made one feel like prey and was filled with fear.

This was today’s last event. The lots chosen would determine tomorrow’s competing teams. All team representatives were at the podium.

"Have all the representatives arrived?" Sydney took attendance and his brows furrowed. Why was it the history department again? No one had come! F*ck, it was always them who did not follow the rules? "History department? Have they arrived?" His expression darkened. "If not, then it’ll be seen as quitting the game and all points will be cleared…"

The crowd was silent. Someone coughed awkwardly. "Mr. Sydney, their representative has arrived."

"Then why did no one answer when I took attendance?" Sydney roared. "Where? Come out! Where are your manners?"

The crowd moved and quickly separated. And out came…a dog.

Yes, it was that golden dog—that evil dog who was prouder than a king, more confident than a prime minister, and more disdainful than the principal!

It was him again! They met once again after all these months, but the disdainful gaze scarred Sydney again.

"What the f*ck is this?" Sydney’s face reddened in fury. "Do they look down on everyone else? Are they causing trouble on purpose?"

The dog glanced at him lazily and dropped the crumpled paper in his mouth at Sydney’s feet. It was written on the paper that Old Phil was an honorary member of the history department and had all the qualifications of a regular player! There was also a signature in the bottom right corner that Sydney was extremely familiar with.

"Maxwell?"

Sydney thought he was going crazy. He looked up at the stands and saw the principal whistling with an innocent expression.

"Just keep thinking of ways to mess with people! One day, you’ll get hit with karma!" Sydney thought. His face turned livid and he looked back, squeezing out from his teeth, "Begin choosing."