I Made Up Forbidden Spells, and They Actually Worked?

"You dare humiliate..." Brad's pupils suddenly contracted with fury, his anger blazing up. But before he could erupt, Dean Bruce shifted slightly, revealing the scarlet badge on his chest.

In an instant, Brad was frozen in place.

Even within the academy, ranks among instructors varied significantly, especially in terms of power.

To be appointed as a senior instructor, the requirement was to be a high-ranking Magus. Of course, if one had the right connections, rank mattered little, and they could hold a senior title regardless of strength, even if just in name.

Dean Bruce coming to recruit a student meant he genuinely had the qualifications and power of a senior instructor!

Brad was only a seventh-rank Magus; he had no grounds to challenge Dean Bruce.

But he had instigated this conflict, and to back down now, in front of all these students, would tarnish his reputation. How could his students respect him after that?

How could he continue to command his classroom?

Thus, Brad found himself trapped!

Dean Bruce's mouth curled in a slight smile as he spoke softly, "Why so quiet?"

"Alright, alright." At this point, another instructor seated in the middle rose, his own badge also glowing with red light, smiling as he tried to smooth things over. "Brad's just a hothead; he meant no harm. Dean, we're all colleagues here, no need for things to get so tense."

"Let's focus on selecting the students first."

"Playing mediator, are you?" Dean Bruce chuckled, "So, you're the peacemaker now? And where were you when he was attacking me earlier? Or have you become senile and slow to react, only now noticing?"

Dean Bruce had learned many things in his previous life, one being that in a new environment, one must appear strong!

While it's unnecessary to initiate trouble, when it does find you, you must respond resolutely. Otherwise, people will see you as an easy target and continue to pick on you.

Dean Bruce had no intention of being anyone's pushover.

As expected, his words caused the other instructors to lean back slightly, their gazes at Dean Bruce now filled with astonishment.

The intervening instructor's eyelid twitched before he forced a smile. "I just didn't want to see you two come to blows. If you both insist on it, carry on; I'll stay out of it."

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"Then why waste everyone's time with so much nonsense if you weren't getting involved?" Dean Bruce scoffed.

Hearing this, the instructor clenched his fists, but as he was about to reply, a deep voice suddenly echoed through the space.

"All this fuss over selecting students? Does it really matter who goes first?"

"If that's the case, why don't you instructors just fight it out in front of the students! Whoever wins can choose first!"

"Brad, your salary is docked for three months. You'll pick last. Aldin, five months of your salary is docked, and you're off new student duties this year."

At that, the local instructors quickly stood up, bowing respectfully toward the empty space.

Seeing this, Dean Bruce realized that the voice belonged to a high-ranking official within the academy!

Brad scowled, then took the chance to sit back down, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

The mediator, Aldin, went pale with anger but dared not defy the voice's command, though he cast a vicious glare at Dean Bruce.

Boom—

A sudden, invisible wave of magical power exploded, flinging Aldin backward in mid-air, sending blood spraying from his mouth.

This display surprised even Dean Bruce.

Seeing Aldin in such a miserable state, he decided it wouldn't be appropriate to add to it.

The deep voice sounded again: "Aldin, if you have an issue with my decision, feel free to bring it to me directly—no need to glare at others."

After a brief pause, the voice continued, "As for who will pick the students first, let's settle it through magic! Each instructor will cast a spell. Whoever can summon the most magic, making it the most active, wins the right to pick students first!"

With that announcement, a few instructors couldn't hide their smiles.

They were also senior instructors and didn't believe they'd lose to Dean Bruce.

Dean Bruce scratched his nose, unconcerned. After all, there were limitations on choosing disciples. Going first or last didn't make a huge difference.

Still, he wasn't one to lose lightly, so he began pondering what magic would be most effective.

Buzz—

While Dean Bruce considered his options, the other instructors had already started chanting spells and waving their staffs, gathering intense magic around them.

[Yes, got it! The Tower of Belief spell could increase magical activity and enhance the rate of magical absorption!]

With a plan in mind, Dean Bruce wasted no time. He sat cross-legged on the floor in a meditative position, and directly cast the Tower of Belief spell.

Whoosh—

In an instant, it was as if a fierce wind had blown through. The surrounding magical energy, even the energy drawn in by the other instructors, surged toward Dean Bruce, pouring into him.

As the magic flowed into his body, various colored lights shimmered on Dean Bruce's body, gradually forming into the shape of a towering pagoda.

The other instructors noticed the rapid drain of surrounding magic and quickly chanted more fervently, pouring more of their power into their spells.

But even so, magical energy continued to stream toward Dean Bruce.

As each instructor's energy flowed toward him, combining with the magic attracted from the heavens and the earth, the waves of energy around Dean Bruce overwhelmed every other instructor's.

The terrifying aura, like a mountain pressing down, left everyone in the room with a suffocating feeling.

For a moment, everyone's gaze toward Dean Bruce was filled with awe.

One person, overpowering forty other instructors?

How powerful was Dean Bruce, exactly?!

The students looked at him with hopeful expressions, wishing they could be chosen by Dean Bruce.

"It's over," the deep voice announced. "The victor, Dean, will select the students first. No further objections are allowed. The remaining order will still be decided by Sinna."

With those words, the other instructors withdrew their magic, their gazes at Dean Bruce becoming increasingly strange.

They hadn't thought they'd lose, but to be crushed so thoroughly by one person—that was beyond their imagination!

Even Sinna wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling relieved he had chosen to extend a friendly hand upon learning that Dean Bruce was sent by Mordo Chakol. This level of power, combined with the forces backing him, could easily stir up waves in the academy in the future.

Dean Bruce, too, dispersed his magic, slowly standing and glancing around. "Any further objections?" he asked calmly.

The instructors chuckled awkwardly. "None, Dean. You go ahead."

Who would dare object? The two who had already done so had faced heavy penalties—one was docked in pay, and the other had been struck so hard he'd coughed up blood. No one else had the nerve to challenge him.

What surprised them more, however, was that the vice principal, silent for three years, had come forward today, all in support of Dean Bruce. This unexpected move led them to speculate about the relationship between Dean and the vice principal.

Of course, Dean Bruce had no clue about the instructors' thoughts. Seeing their compliance, he turned his attention to the students, beginning to assess them one by one.

Meanwhile, in the headmaster's office.

A man in a white robe sat on the sofa, coughing constantly, his face pale as though he were gravely ill.

At the desk, a nobleman in ornate attire remarked with admiration, "Finally out of seclusion—it's about time. But as soon as you're out, you reprimand someone and publicly back that young man who was sent here. Was that really necessary?"

Cough, cough—the man in the white robe hacked a few more times before replying softly, "I wasn't backing him; I was disgusted with Aldin's behavior."

"Doesn't really matter," the nobleman shrugged. "So, how's the seal? Has there been any disturbance?"

The man in white shook his head, remaining silent.

With a sigh, the nobleman continued, "Time is pressing. In a year at most, Cold Cloud Continent will launch a full-scale assault through the teleportation array. We need to break the seal before then."

The white-robed man hesitated, coughing as he asked, "Do you really…cough cough…have no faith in the Nine Provinces Alliance?"

The nobleman gave a cold chuckle, "If it were the Nine Provinces Alliance of a century ago, I might. But now, the Alliance is fractured, with every leader following their own agendas and ambitions."

After a pause, he added, "Some want to defend against Cold Cloud Continent, others are waiting for the teleportation array to stabilize so they can invade Cold Cloud Continent, and then there are those obsessively scouring the continent for Relics to study ancient magic…"

"How can anyone trust that?"

The man in white fell silent at his words.

After a long pause, he finally said, "Why can't they understand that magic is ever-evolving? Ancient magic has its merits but isn't necessarily stronger than what we have now!"

"Oh, and that young man's magic was rather interesting. He seems talented. Even if he's from the Nine Provinces Alliance, he's worth observing for a while."

The man in white rose, adjusting his robe, and spoke quietly, "I'll go have a drink. Make the preparations and have Yulice take over."

With that, he turned and left, leaving the nobleman to sigh as he watched him go, "Off to drink again, as if it won't kill him…Ah, just a few of us old comrades left…"

"Dean Bruce, hmm? He might be worth keeping an eye on!"