This wizard only wishes to be a teacher

Carly glanced at Count Sanaxis, who had stopped shaking the grape beneath him, and slightly raised her chin.

"Tsk, that little gourd of yours... it wouldn’t even make a decent flower pot," Count Sanaxis muttered under his breath, his tone filled with a rough disdain.

Carly was about to say something, but Lucien stopped her with his hand. He looked at Count Sanaxis, who was venting his emotions on the grape beneath him, and his eyes reflected a contemplative expression.

"Sanaxis, how much do you know about witch rituals?" Lucien placed a new grape beside Count Sanaxis.

"Just... a little bit."

Count Sanaxis’s voice became leisurely as he gently swayed the grape beneath him, as though it were his personal rocking chair. However, when Lucien wasn’t looking, he shot a glance at Carly, his eyes smug and even a bit provocative.

"But, during my time in the Wizard World, it seems I recall that wizards practice a principle of equivalent exchange... So, what do you plan to trade for this information?"

As Count Sanaxis shook the grape, he suddenly shook it a bit too vigorously, and the grape began to roll rapidly in one direction. Fortunately, Lucien was quick and caught the rolling grape with his fingers, thus preventing another disastrous flattening of Count Sanaxis.

"Cough, cough, cough... The terms... the terms can be the same as the ones the pointy-eared one traded with me last time," Count Sanaxis slightly controlled his movements, then jumped off the grape with some lingering fear, and still somewhat unsatisfied, he fiercely slapped the grape with the tentacles around his body, almost causing a second tragedy.

This time, however, Count Sanaxis didn’t care about the potentially deadly grape. He looked cheaply at Carly, seemingly quite anticipating the chips for this equivalent exchange.

"Mentor Lucien, I will go check on those new bloods." Carly took a deep breath, forcefully restraining the urge to give Count Sanaxis a giant watermelon, and hurriedly walked outside.

But Lucien simply picked up Count Sanaxis, "Sanaxis, you should mention some more practical terms."

"Terms?" Count Sanaxis now lacked his previous frivolous demeanor; his gaze towards Lucien turned deep, and even his tone became somewhat solemn. "What can you give me right now?"

Lucien was slightly taken aback. Although he knew that nightmare creatures often carried traits similar to dreams, sometimes displaying contradictory or bizarre aspects, he hadn’t expected the usually shapeless Count Sanaxis to show such a serious side.

Even at that moment, Lucien felt an inexplicable aura.

"Really, even if you give me a sweet watermelon, I can’t eat it right now..." However, Count Sanaxis’s serious expression lasted only a moment before he quickly became nonchalant again. "Well then, how about this... you let me play with that doll for a couple of days, how about that?"

"Doll?" Lucien was initially confused but soon realized that Count Sanaxis was likely referring to the Helen Wizard sealed in the card, which he had used once, and now he still had six opportunities to use the Helen Wizard.

Using it here once... Lucien quickly weighed the pros and cons in his mind and soon made a decision.

"No problem." Lucien nodded lightly, and then he took out the set of Helen cards, although he wondered whether Count Sanaxis could handle this Witch Tool infused with the power of dreams, given not only the limited uses but also the specific rules associated with it.

What’s more, the deck of cards was much larger than Count Sanaxis’s own body.

"Two-legged Long-haired Monster, you seem to be thinking something very disrespectful." Count Sanaxis noticed Lucien’s peculiar gaze and sensed the offense, his tone becoming a bit unfriendly, then he muttered some indistinct words.

Lucien, uninterested in deciphering Count Sanaxis’s mumblings, directly took out the collected essence of blood, "Sanaxis, my idea is..."

...

"Sally, are you... feeling better?" On the other side of the floating craft, Monica was anxiously standing by Sally’s side, her eyes a blend of eagerness and guilt.

She was one of the new bloods whose performance during this expedition was rather poor, though not as disastrous as the apprentice who, out of panic, attacked wildly, even causing the death of a teammate. Still, when facing the attacking wizard apprentices, she too inevitably panicked.

Even while constructing the witchcraft model, she made a mistake that not only led her into a backlash but also inadvertently caused serious injuries to her friend Sally, who had tried to help her.

"I... I’m okay." Sally’s face was still somewhat pale. Although she had taken a potion and received some witchcraft treatments, her body had been contaminated by a unique witch power, and the wound displayed an unnatural grayish-white color. Fully recovering was not going to be easy.

"It was all my fault just now..." Monica clenched her fists tightly with regret. Her head bowed, she remembered how she usually avoided any extra practice, always skirting by to complete the basic training tasks on time and always looking for chances to slack off and relax.

If only she had pushed herself more, if only she had understood the wizard models more deeply, might she have avoided the collapse of her witchcraft model due to nerves and the backlash of her spiritual power?

At that thought, Monica grew even more despondent; images of the conversation her instructor had quietly initiated yesterday even floated to her mind.

"Sally, I think I might be ready to go back in a couple of days," Monica finally said, tightening her grip on her fists, her eyes conveying an apology. "I feel like I’m struggling to adapt to the Wizard World..."

"What are you talking about!" At Monica’s words, Sally struggled to sit up, studying Monica’s serious demeanor. She paused, then turned to Monica, recalling some details her roommate had once shared with her.

"Monica, have you forgotten what you’ll face if you go back?" Sally looked crossly at her roommate. Although sometimes she found Monica too talkative and sometimes too lazy, now that they had gone through a battle only to learn of Monica’s intent to leave, Sally felt a complex emotion stirring within her.

"Staying here couldn’t get any worse, right? Besides, everyone makes mistakes, and if it weren’t for your timely amends and treatment, I might have died back there..." Sally spoke with a hint of agitation, but then she calmed down.

"Maybe... you’re right," Sally’s expression turned despondent, and the atmosphere in the rest cabin grew heavy and melancholic.

After all, she knew her friend was neither skilled nor fond of fighting, and perhaps leaving the Wizard World wasn’t such a bad thing for her.

Monica’s expression was also heavy as she looked at Sally, who had lain down again, a trace of reluctance in her eyes.

"I... I’ll think about it some more in the next few days," Monica whispered, and then she fled the cabin as if escaping, making her way onto the deck of the hovercraft to breathe some fresh air.

However, she soon realized that many Wizard Apprentices were discussing something on the deck.

"Specialized classes..."

"Specifically targeted, and it looks like the courses have changed a bit."

"But... only learning certain aspects of witchcraft would surely limit your strength later, wouldn’t it?"

Specialized classes? Monica looked puzzled. She then squeezed into the crowd to look at the announcement that had triggered the discussion among these new blood wizards.

Healer, Defender, and... Support Wizard?

Monica stared at the three wizard types listed above, her mind filling with thoughts.

These three types of witchcraft, because they didn’t do much to kill adversaries, were rarely studied intensively by wizards who were serious about it, as in combat situations, mastering a lifesaving witchcraft wasn’t very useful. Using it on oneself could just provide enemies a chance to torment, and using it on opponents... that was even more absurd.

These paths, being all about supporting teammates, meant choosing this specialized training would likely result in losing the ability to fight alone...

However, perhaps for someone of average aptitude like her, being someone else’s support might not be bad, and besides, she never liked attacking and even the thought of fighting filled her with inexplicable fear... Monica pondered, slowly extending a finger and gently tapping one of the terms.

Healer.

If she specialized in healing witchcraft in the future, not directly engaging in combat, but provided professional healing for other wizards, wouldn’t that be rather nice? Moreover, this way, she might also help her friends and companions.

And this way, her path as a wizard might still be able to continue.

Monica felt her heart stir. She quietly noted down the contact information provided below the announcement, planning to later visit the recruiter for healers to learn more about the details.