Warlock Apprentice
Chapter 1649: Section 1650 Officially Begins

Chapter 1649: Section 1650 Officially Begins

The young man who looked to be only about fourteen or fifteen years old was none other than "Illusion Deer" Trom!

After Trom stepped out, the door slowly vanished, reappearing behind another rock.

Standing on a rock that barely accommodated one person, Trom’s expression turned solemn. He hadn’t expected to face such a challenging scene in this competition.

Trom surveyed his surroundings; the gloomy sea was relatively calm, and there was no sign of the Ocean Troll yet. But the tang of blood in the air made him feel slightly uneasy. Unable to resist, he closed his eyes and sent out his Spirit Tentacles, trying to sense the situation in the sea in advance.

Just then, the announcer’s crisp voice rang out: "It seems that our Illusion Deer contestant is very cautious, understandably, since he’s facing the Ocean Troll. But sensing the Ocean Troll this early, even if he does detect it, will that add to his pressure or alleviate it?"

Trom could hear the announcer’s voice, but he completely ignored the content of the narration and continued to patrol the sea.

"Here’s a friendly hint though, the Ocean Troll is currently in a Special Form, slumbering away. It will only awaken after the competition begins. I’m afraid Illusion Deer won’t find them now. Instead of focusing on the sea, why not pay some attention to your adorable fans?"

The announcer’s slightly teasing tone caused Trom’s expression to falter. If this were a normal arena, he could indeed pay attention to the mood of his fans, but currently, he couldn’t see outside the dome at all—how was he to pay attention? He wasn’t like that narcissistic guy from Spring Waltz, who could flirt with even the air.

Trom stood still, unfazed, while the announcer’s voice betrayed a hint of disappointment.

In the outside world, at the judges’ seats, Angel muttered softly, "Why does it feel like the announcer’s tone is always somewhat malicious this time?"

"Maybe they changed the announcer?" Farina, sitting next to Angel, overheard his murmur and replied casually, "That’s not too bad, at least the audience seems to like it."

After teasing Trom, the announcer’s voice returned to a serious tone: "Next up is the second challenger: Philosopher."

The name ’Philosopher’ flashed on the Light Screen, and within the Boundless Battle Arena under the dome, another door was pushed open on a rock more than ten meters away from where Trom stood.

Onassis, who was not much different in age from Trom, stepped out from behind the door without making a sound.

Onassis was still dressed in his old, grey-black Wizard Robe, with an expression that seemed somewhat wooden, naturally exuding the musty vibe of the Academy Faction. This did not match his somewhat immature face at all.

Having stepped out, Onassis showed no emotion towards the surrounding sea and stood properly on the rock, nodding slightly at Trom who was not far away.

"The current will carry my regards to you," Onassis said softly.

The sea breeze carried Onassis’s words to Trom’s ears. However, Trom clearly didn’t understand and seemed a bit perplexed.

Fortunately, the announcer spoke up at that moment—

"Our Philosopher contestant’s words are, as always, full of ceremonial sense but equally abstruse," said the announcer. "Is this cliché from Barlov from the morning or the evening? Is it sarcasm towards Trom or a genuine greeting? Probably, only the Philosopher himself knows for sure."

The announcer’s words still left many, including who this Barlov was, baffled.

Farina, who considered herself a voracious reader, was also confused.

Seeing this, Angel quietly explained to her, "Barlov is the villainous thief character from the novel ’Twilight Crown’."

This novel was about a merchant guild that acquired the lost treasure of an ancient kingdom—the Twilight Crown. Though they tried to hide it by all possible means, the news was eventually heard by the notorious thief Barlov.

As the saying goes, possession is the original sin.

At a cruise dinner hosted by a business league, Barlov sneaked in and made his move.

When he masqueraded as the master of ceremonies and entered the venue, his opening line on stage was "The currents bring my greetings to you all, good morning."

By the end of this novel, the thief Barlov not only obtained the Twilight Crown, but also sunk the entire ship with its crew into the sea. Only he, aboard a small escape boat, managed to successfully flee over the serene sea surface.

Watching the distant cruise liner gradually sinking, with the laughter of terror and despair emanating from the ship, the thief spoke the last line of the book: "The currents bring my greetings to you all, good night."

"So, that’s how it is." After listening to Angel’s narration, Farina suddenly realized.

Therefore, the narrator’s words could be explained. Was his Barlov’s catchphrase derived from morning or evening? This corresponds to the "good morning" at his entrance or the "good night" at the curtain call in the book.

"Just as the narrator said, this Onassis really does speak in an obtuse manner." Farina shook her head, finding it not only obscure but also quite irksome, with the illusion of an Academy Faction Wizard flaunting themselves before you, yet oddly enough they do so with utter seriousness.

"That’s his style, but sadly not everyone can appreciate it." Angel’s gaze shifted towards the dome, clearly Trom was unable to accept it.

Trom deliberately pulled down his antler hat, pulling the plush pieces that draped over his temples into his ears, in a manner that showed his unwillingness to listen.

Although Trom seemed to be repulsed by Onassis’s pedantic behavior, he didn’t respond. Probably he also understood Onassis, almost everyone who had ever responded to Onassis was driven to madness by him.

Trom may not know what words or the power of philosophy are, but his subconscious choice was to avoid them.

Onassis, watching Trom’s actions, showed no discomfort on his face, only sighed gently: "Yet another soul lost on the fool’s path."

After sighing, Onassis lifted his head, looking towards the sky.

It seemed as though he could see beyond the gloomy skies to the world outside the dome.

"The Philosopher player seems to be paying attention to the outside field, perhaps to his worshippers? However, this is indeed out of his norm." Narrator: "Really curious, who is it that the Philosopher wants to see? Could it be the Philosopher Scholar rumored to have a love-hate relationship with him?"

The narrator’s words were also audible to Onassis, but evidently, he had no intention of responding, instead slowly shifting his gaze back to Trom, focusing his attention on him once more.

Because at this moment, there was only one minute left until the start of the competition.

The countdown appeared on the Light Screen.

Onassis and Trom both entered the final stage of preparation.

Accompanied by the narrator’s chuckle: "Always be wary of the Ocean Troll’s arrival, good luck to both."

The competition officially begins!

Despite the narrator’s deliberate reminder that Ocean Trolls could appear at any moment, the sea remained calm as ever for the time being. Yet the overhead clouds dropped lower and the air seemed to get more suffocating.