บท 88: Tristenia Family

The old man, Wellstone.

His short black-and-white beard, flowed like a river of wisdom.

And he cleared his throat as he focused himself before the eager pupils in the hall of the Catalyst Fables Academy.

Adorned with fancy craving ancient magical battles, the hall seemed to hum with an ancient energy.

"The academy system," Wellstone began, his voice crackling like dry leaves, "Is structured under the guidance of Arcmagi. Each Arcmagi will teach you the complexities of magic, but be warned. Each has its own conditions for accepting pupils."

Wellstone, an imposing figure from behind the wooden table, had eyes that seemed to pierce through the soul as he explained arcmagis.

He then let out a massive, thick, and heavy book from his side, stretching the length of his hand.

The book thudded onto the table with a resounding boom, dust billowing like a shadow of antique mysteries.