Tale of a Hedonistic wizard

Entering the dormitory, he found Pierre and Jennifer engaged in an animated conversation about their newly acquired beasts. Pierre proudly showcased his wyvern, regaling them with tales of its majestic appearance and unique features. Jennifer, having summoned a unicorn, spoke of the graceful aura that surrounded her new companion.

Jaegar listened to their stories with genuine interest, his own experience with the Nether Chaosfiend providing a distinct perspective. As the night unfolded, the duo shared their hopes and dreams tied to the magical beings now part of their lives.

Lying on his bed, Jaegar stared at the ceiling, contemplating the mysterious powers that lurked in the unseen realms. The Nether Chaosfiend's enigmatic departure fueled his curiosity, and a determination to unravel the secrets of his magical connection burned within him.

In the days that followed, Jaegar resumed his studies with newfound vigour. His pursuit of magical knowledge became a quest, a journey that intertwined with the latent potential the Nether Chaosfiend had hinted at. The academy's halls echoed with whispers of the mythical encounter, and Jaegar's name resonated with a mystique that transcended his academic achievements.

As winter's chill settled over the academy grounds, Jaegar found himself delving deeper into the ancient tomes and scrolls, seeking answers to the mysteries that had been awakened within him. The cold winds outside only fueled his determination, as he spent countless nights poring over forgotten spells and lost rituals, hoping to unlock the true extent of his magical connection.

His usual daily routine remained the same, meditating, attending classes, and then spending the remaining time in the library. Despite the monotony, Jaegar's thirst for knowledge and understanding never wavered. With each passing day, he could feel himself growing stronger and his grasp on the arcane arts becoming more refined.

*

The passage of two months marked the arrival of winter, its icy tendrils constricting the academic grounds with a cold embrace. Despite the biting chill, sunny days persisted, promising the imminent arrival of snowfall to blanket the landscape. Winter had not only ushered in the frosty temperatures but also the arrival of distinguished guests.

The grand assembly hall hummed with anticipation as students took their seats along the extensive dining table. The hall was long, with a wide room for three groups of students to accommodate, and still had enough space to spare.

On one side of the hall, taking centre stage, was a daiz with an exquisite, ornately carved wooden chair. This was reserved for the esteemed headmaster, who would preside over the assembly. On both sides of his chair were other chairs in which the professors were seated.

The students were immersed in the discussion of the upcoming Magi Cup.

Jaegar's wounds had fully healed, leaving behind a scar that bore witness to the recent trials. He sat with Pierre, Jennifer, and other friends.

Right now, there were all waiting for the members of other academies.

The much-anticipated summit was announced by the headmaster, heralding the arrival of guests from other academies.

The assembly room, a vast hall with a central pathway, hosted the eager students awaiting the distinguished visitors. Positioned on the dais, Ashfield and the other professors awaited the procession.

As the doors swung open, the attendant announced the arrival of the first delegation, "Douxmarth, School of Arcane."

A woman, elegantly attired in a full gown with long sleeves and a draping coat adorned with fur collars, led the students in a synchronized march.

Morana, the distinguished guest, moved gracefully towards the dais. Ashfield, recognizing her significance, took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, escorting her to the seat beside him with a display of courtesy and respect.

Morana Slivinsky, the headmistress of the Douxmarth, was an influential and powerful figure in the magical community, known for her extensive knowledge and mastery of the arcane arts.

Morana's disciples made their grand entrance into the hall, clad in impeccable leather uniforms, a unit of about ten, catching Jaegar's attention.

Among them, Denica, the acquaintance Jaegar encountered during the carnival, locked eyes with him.

A big smile adorned her face, expressing delight at the unexpected reunion. The group proceeded to the dais, gracefully taking their seats as guided by the attendants.

Once more, Ashfield assumed his position at the forefront, and the announcer's voice echoed, "A'llkadi, the esteemed school of elven magic."

Jaegar's head tilted curiously at the mention of elves, a race known for their enchanting beauty and mysterious allure. As the door swung open, his mutterings lingered in the air.

The room fell silent as the students eagerly awaited the entrance of the elven students. All eyes turned towards the doorway, anticipation hanging in the air like a delicate thread.

The elves entered, captivating the room with their ethereal presence.

A vision in white, the lead elf emerged—a perfect blonde with an immaculate symmetrical face, bewitching eyes that held an everlasting gaze, and lips that whispered of allure. Her long, braided hair cascaded gracefully over her robes, accentuating a generous bosom. Her every movement was graceful and fluid, as if she floated rather than walked.

Her beauty is unparalleled, and she seemed to radiate a mystical aura that enchanted all who beheld her.

Towering in stature, every step she took radiated an unparalleled grace, enchanting every onlooker.

The hall fell into a silent trance as if captivated by the epitome of beauty personified. Her eyes, deep pools of mystery and wisdom, held a captivating gaze that seemed to draw you in and reveal secrets untold. The air around her seemed to shimmer with mystical energy, as if she possessed a power beyond mortal comprehension.

Jaegar, unable to contain his admiration, offered a resounding thumbs-up to the woman's beauty. It was hidden by Pierre, but Jennifer had seen him.

Jennifer swiftly responded with a smack to his hand, demanding an explanation. "What the hell are you doing?"

Unfazed, Jaegar retorted, "What does it look like? That woman there is the personification of beauty."

She had to admit that woman was definitely a delight in the eyes of men, and she couldn't help but admire her. Jennifer, though secretly agreeing, refused to admit it.

Jaegar playfully pointed out, "See how your boy is ogling at her."

Jennifer shot him a glare, and Pierre, who was dazed by the elf woman, suddenly felt a chill in his spine, sensing the tension, and turned to her with a flustered inquiry, "What happened?"

Jaegar, with a mischievous grin, quipped, "Good luck, buddy."

As the woman led a procession of a dozen young women, they were all beautiful, and all the male students just simply stared at them. The atmosphere was filled with a mix of awe and admiration, as the male students couldn't help but be captivated by the stunning beauty of the women. Some even whispered amongst themselves, secretly agreeing that they had never seen a more enchanting sight.

The older elf woman who led them, approached the front.

Professors, including Morana and the headmaster, Ashfield, stepped forward, extending warm welcomes to the elf women.

Elves, known as a prideful and revered race in the magical plane, seldom revealed themselves in human lands, maintaining an air of superiority over humans. However, the summit, a gathering of prestigious schools from across the magical plane, called for their participation.

Ashfield courteously led Yralissa to her seat, and as she sat with Morana, she talked with Morana.

Ashfield, standing at the forefront, prepared to welcome the next school as the attendant's voice echoed through the hall, announcing, "Gorndorahl, institute of mystical crafts."

A man entered the hall, donned in a long coat with a bearded face. His handsome, muscular build was complemented by the presence of a stick in his hand. The man's piercing blue eyes scanned the room, his confident aura captivating the attention of everyone present. As he approached Ashfield, a hushed murmur spread among the crowd, intrigued by this mysterious figure.

Accompanying him were young men in a tunic and leather pants, sporting a ponytail.

They were of the dwarf race, drawing the eager attention of all students as they made their way to the assigned benches. Despite their similar height of five feet, an air of cold indifference surrounded them. Their piercing gazes seemed to penetrate through the crowd as if they were constantly assessing their surroundings.

Whispers of curiosity and speculation filled the air as students wondered about the new guests in their academy.

Ashfield extended a warm welcome to the man, and they all took their seats on the daïs.

The students, buzzing with excitement, engaged in discussions about the newcomers until Ashfield's commanding voice silenced the hall, "Quiet, all of you."