The torrential rain outside the numbered room was like a sword waterfall that kept echoing with the Sword Furnace between An Le's eyebrows. It kept growing and clanging, almost gushing out.
The Ink Pool Sword at his waist trembled non-stop and suddenly floated up. The sword light in the numbered room was long. It was the Ink Pool Sword.
The ink qi continuously fused into the Ink Pool Sword, causing its grade to constantly increase, vaguely breaking through to the fifth-grade!
...
...
In the Literary Department, there was a path in the forest that led straight to the thatched cottage.
Under the thatched hut, a carbon stove was boiling water, and steam rose.
The Third Headmaster sat upright under the roof. The wrinkles on his aged face were piled up. Looking at the increasingly majestic rain, every drop of rain seemed to contain a hint of killing intent.