Cultivators at the Wizarding Academy

Chapter 236 Life only has meaning if it exists.

The quality of the eerie things has been continuously improving; they are no longer just empty shells designed to bluff.

Small, pumpkin-faced creatures walked in bizarre groups down the street. Their shapes resembled pumpkins with human limbs, making them look incredibly comical, like a group of clowns parading through the streets.

Many people thought they were easy to bully, so they excitedly surrounded them with all sorts of weapons, only to be charged and crushed by the pumpkin-faced creatures without exception.

On the real-time updated encyclopedia of common supernatural creatures, Pumpkin Face possesses the combat power of a professional, comparable to a regular army among supernatural beings, far superior to mere grunts like White Cloth.

The key reason why the eerie takes on anthropomorphic form is that it amplifies the fear of its prey. There's a concept in academia called anthropophobia; the closer it is to a human in appearance, the more the differences are highlighted, thus creating a more profound impression.

The supernatural beings do not feed on flesh and blood. If they are not prepared to possess human bodies, they prefer to toy with their prey, forcing intelligent beings to release more negative thoughts.

These thoughts are like hairs shed from a spirit's body. Unable to capture the soul, one can only resort to feeding on thoughts.

A figure burning with pure white flames leaped down from the top of a building, its wings of holy light unfurling behind it. It easily glided hundreds of meters and charged straight into the pumpkin-faced army parading through the streets.

The inscribed sword, Divine Judgment, unleashed a series of continuous slashes, efficiently clearing away the inhuman creatures from the streets as if slicing melons and vegetables.

Aglaia felt very satisfied; the enemy's strength was just right, much easier than fighting the demon legion.

Considering the safety of her family, she had already sent her mother and sister to stay temporarily at the Dawn Church.

It is very strange that there are almost no strange occurrences near the Church of Dawn, which puzzles many people.

Aglaia speculated that it might be related to Ovisga.

As the Ghost Festival approaches, the lights in every household stay on all night.

The church where the Dawn Church is located is no exception.

Huayun's management is lax; aside from prohibiting loud noises and going outside at night, the children's entertainment is not interfered with. They can read, play cards, play chess, or watch live broadcasts.

The main hall was decorated like a movie theater, with an oversized projection screen affixed to the wall. Two hundred gold coins would have been unthinkable in the past, but now, backed by the powerful Blue Rose family, it was merely a trivial matter for the bishop's wife to casually ask for favors.

Heavy breathing came from the bishop's office. The excessive stimulation had caused the soundproofing to become unstable, occasionally emitting sounds unsuitable for children.

"Xiao An, hurry up and give it to me..."

"No."

Who could have imagined that the dignified and pure-hearted Ms. Huayun would turn into a puddle of joyful mud?

The black-haired, mature woman gazed seductively at the body that was faintly visible in the darkness. Inscriptions flowed across her skin, emanating a soft, luminous glow.

"Hmph, you stingy person."

On the edge of the church's sloping roof, Ovisga stood like a statue. Gusts of night wind swept by, blowing the tattered hem of her dress wildly.

Sunrise and sunset, several months have passed since I returned to the world. My dormant thoughts are gradually becoming active again, and I am once more aware of the passage of time.

The days in the underworld felt like a long, endless nightmare.

Ovisca tried hard to recall everything from her life, fragmented but unforgettable moments etched deep into her soul. However, most of her memories had faded into a blank with the passage of time.

Bathed in the lonely, bright moonlight, I suddenly felt a chill in my soul. The warmth that enveloped my body had been absent for so long. A faint longing filled my heart, growing ever stronger.

I wish I could live again; there are still so many regrets in this world.

The mere change of sunrise and sunset is far better than the unchanging underworld.

She didn't want to go back to experience eternal silence.

As my thoughts raced, streaks of light pierced the darkness, and dawn quietly arrived.

The eeriness of the city's streets and alleys vanished almost simultaneously, and the citizens on night watch breathed a sigh of relief.

To combat these annoying things, a nationwide united front has been forced upon the community. Professionals from each neighborhood have formed alliances, taking turns keeping watch and maintaining security around their homes. Any strange occurrence appearing in the city center is treated like a rat in the street. In no time at all, a group of extremely excited people will surround it.

As it turns out, there are many hidden masters in the various communities of the capital.

The old man, who usually kept a low profile, suddenly displayed the strength of a super-level spellcaster when he made a move, easily suppressing the powerful human-faced tree monster.

There are many people like that.

Many intelligent people prefer to stay in the rear and enjoy life rather than rush to the front lines to fight to the death. They don't even have a concept of nationhood; even if the Violet Kingdom were to fall completely, they would simply move to another place.

He wouldn't be swayed by those in power, and his actions were largely based on his own judgment. Because his apartment held so many cherished possessions, the old mage was willing to expose his power.

That very night, the man left.

The overall strength of humanity in the Violet Kingdom is far more than just the surface-level figures suggest. Including unregistered residents and hidden populations, an additional one or two hundred million people is not impossible.

Casualty and injury statistics for the night have begun to be tallied in each neighborhood. The situation is relatively optimistic within the Third Ring Road, with very few casualties. The losses outside the Third Ring Road are also acceptable; a few hundred deaths are insignificant in a city with a population of ten million.

The Kingdom Weekly became a daily newspaper.

Recently, they've been adding new editions every day, popularizing various aspects of the supernatural, successfully diverting the attention of the vast majority of citizens.

Public discussions about the Allied forces' losses are dwindling. Several troublesome figures operating covertly have also been mysteriously assassinated. A series of bribery and sowing tactics are underway, with various purge agents being deployed frequently.

Tai'an didn't want to return to the North, feeling increasingly distant from his father.

As the heir grows and becomes more powerful, he will inevitably challenge the position of the original owner.

Although no one says it out loud, everyone is actually concerned about the transfer of power.

However, Tyron was still in the prime of his life, how could he willingly relinquish power? Even his only son would only be considered thirty or even fifty years later, when his health was gradually declining.

Many people are obsessed with power, and he was no exception. Unlike his grandfather, Taylor, who chose to relinquish power and retire early on.

"What a pity!" Tai'an said inexplicably generously.

Given his father's exceptional talent, he should have no shortage of opportunities to go further. If he could set aside everything and dedicate himself to rigorous self-cultivation, with his appropriate assistance, the success rate might exceed 50%.

Becoming a sanctuary frees one from the limitations of lifespan. One's gaze is fixed on the distant ages and eternity, not on fleeting momentary glory and splendor. Life only has meaning when it exists.

Bathed in the midday sun, philosopher Tai'an raised his hands in a gesture of respect.

(End of this chapter)