Game Transmigration: Saving the World Again 1000 Years Later

302 A Small Favor

“Dean, just got a notice. The first batch of Ava State magic teachers is expected to arrive by the end of this month. It might alleviate the school’s teacher shortage, but it’s only theoretical…”

Thank you readers!

“Why do you say it’s only theoretical?” Grimm Gordon, the Dean of Blackwater Arcana University, questioned, annotating the document without looking up.

“Equipment. The Shattered Sea is sealed off by the imperial navy. Smuggling ships have a hard time sending people over. Plus, there’s the issue of the High Elves. We’ve been raised to be hostile towards them. We should start raising our security.”

“You mean to protect the safety of the High Elf teachers?”

“No, I’m talking about the safety of the radical students. The teachers sent are led by Legendary magic chanters of all types. Their safety isn’t our concern.”

Grimm’s eagle feather quill paused. He glanced up at the newly promoted secretary with intrigue.

“Do those who have a problem with High Elves include you?”

“It’s ridiculous, letting them be in charge of our magical education. Don’t you think it’s dangerous, Mr. Grimm?” the secretary replied resentfully.

“On this matter, I actually concur…” Grimm gave a subtle nod, intending to agree with the other party. But in the next moment, he pulled a long face and corrected the other person’s lack of political awareness in a serious tone.

“We have to study what works for the High Elves in magical literacy education. It’s an order from the higher-ups, and it’s our duty to carry out their orders.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Dean. How could the higher-ups make such a foolish decision? It’s absurd.”

“The higher-ups have their reasons. We can’t—”

“But it’s the High Elves we’re talking about. Who knows what else they’ll teach besides magic if we let them into our classrooms? Even if the higher-ups announce an alliance with Ava State, they can’t just hand over education to those pointy-ears, can they? I don’t know what the higher-ups are thinking, but I won’t let my daughter be educated by those elves.”

Grimm couldn’t stop the other party from shooting off his mouth, so he nervously looked behind the person, trying to suppress the spasms in his facial muscles.

He didn’t notice that someone was standing silently behind him. The secretary seemed to be venting his long-standing dissatisfaction.

“The current magical enlightenment policies aren’t as good as when the Astral Council was in charge. Back then, they were much more prudent and efficient. Now, even children with the talent the size of mung beans are required to undergo magical enlightenment—seven days a week, 24 hours a day. The mages in charge can’t even keep up…”

Grimm’s steely gaze bore down on the speaker, urging him to cease his babbling. But the person persisted, “I reckon it might be alright if that’s all there is to it. Sure, it might put a strain on us all, but we’ll manage somehow. Yet, the solution to the shortage of manpower is to seek help from Ava State… Think about how many years Ava State has been at odds with the empire’s military. After so many years of hatred, do you really think a few contracts can change it? The Rose Palace is too naive. Will the High Elves sent by Ava State really do their best to provide us a magic literacy course as they proclaim?”

As the young secretary spoke, he accidentally bumped into the person standing behind him.

“Sorry, I was a little engrossed in your conversation. I should have informed you of my presence,” the person apologized very politely.

“It’s all good, all good. My job here is finished. Have a seat,” the secretary said, flashing a toothy grin before relinquishing his chair to the Stormer standing behind him. Turning back to face the academy’s dean, he noticed an abrupt change in his expression. “Dean Grimm, I’m headed to the Stranger Lighthouse next. Is there anything you require of me?”

“Nothing to send over. However, once you’re done with the lighthouse, take a break from your work. Head home and spend time with your daughter. But don’t stray too far, we may need you soon.”

The secretary bowed in gratitude, clutching the documents in his hand.

“Thank you, Dean. My family has been complaining that I’m always not around. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since the Undead Tide. It’s those old cronies’ fault, wouldn’t you say?” he quipped, hoping for a chuckle of approval from the newcomer.

Regarding this, Grimm almost face palmed.

Did you have to say the second half of your sentence?

As the secretary hummed a jaunty tune and exited the room, Grimm rose to his feet, ready to address the newcomer. “Lord William, let me explain…”

Without warning, the mythical figure who held the reins of power in Blackwater Swamp interrupted Grimm’s attempt to explain. His hand shot up, cutting Grimm off mid-sentence. “We’ll discuss that later. But first, you need to open the door.”

“Door?”

Grimm hesitated for a moment, thrown off by the sudden shift in topic.

“The door to the Library of the Dead. I opened a direct portal for Blackwater Arcana University. The key is in your hands, isn’t it?”

William’s impatience was palpable, a feeling he rarely allowed to show. It wasn’t the snickering of the secretary who’d mocked him that bothered him, but rather Grimm’s own inability to grasp the situation.

“Ah, ah, ah. Yes, I’ll open the door now. Please wait…”

Grimm wasted no time, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a glowing, key-shaped rune on his arm. With a practiced finger, he activated the rune and recited the incantation.

A crackling arch of lightning erupted beside them. Without a word, William strode through the portal, leaving Grimm to nervously follow. For a moment, the wizard was frozen, unsure of what to do next.

“What are you waiting for? Come on.”

The voice on the other side of the door was slightly hoarse but commanding. Grimm hastily complied. As soon as he passed through the arch, the lightning vanished without a trace.

Beneath the vast dome of stars that filled the sky, the two men walked in silence through the lavishly appointed library. William’s mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with an urgent matter, while Grimm dared not disturb his companion’s thoughts.

Passing the immense collection of ancient texts, they ascended a spiral staircase, guided by Archivists whose eyes were sewn shut and whose hands were bound.

It was only then that Grimm found the courage to ask, “May I ask what brings you to Arcana University…”

“I need to do some research at the library, and your portal saves me time,” William said, his fingers grazing over the spines of books that glimmered with an otherworldly magic.

But then, something occurred to him. He asked casually, “By the way, how many people share that guy’s attitude towards the new policy?”

Grimm’s response was immediate, shaking his head like a rattle.

“Oh no, he’s just a lone dissident. Don’t worry, Presiding Judge…”

“Liar.” William interrupted the other party.

“If he was the only one, he wouldn’t have been so vocal with me. Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes.”

The secretary hadn’t even flinched when he sensed a stranger had caught wind of his entire spiel. If anything, the dude spoke even more enthusiastically, like he had an audience. And that meant one thing—what the secretary had said was already a consensus to a certain extent.

“No, no… What I mean is that although there are some dissatisfied parties, they’ll come around and understand your intentions in the future.”

William just scoffed, “Future? With the attitude of that guy from earlier, I’m giving this whole damn system two months tops.”

Grimm didn’t dare to reply.

William continued, “By the way, don’t even think about taking matters into your own hands. Firing your secretary won’t solve anything. If everyone has an issue with this matter, you’ll just end up in the same boat after switching to another person. And as for me causing trouble, well, don’t stir the pot any further than it already is.”

“Yes… Presiding Judge,” the dean behind William replied carefully.

William said, “However, I wouldn’t worry too much. Whether it’s the issue with your trust in the High Elves or the shortage of magic chanters in the academy, it will be resolved within the next month or two. Your only responsibility is to make sure that these people don’t cause any further trouble. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, of course, I can.” Grimm’s response was a hasty nod.

William gave no further instructions on how to handle the delicate matter, and the dean knew better than to inquire further. Together, they ascended the winding staircase to the third level of the library.

“You haven’t been to the third level before, have you?” William pushed open the old wooden door and asked casually,

The other party nodded in confirmation.

“You said that the third level contains Legendary and Divine Realm grimoires. In addition, many Lunar Monsters and powerful spirit bodies are sealed there. It’s not a place I can step foot in for the time being…”

William let out a grunt. “But today is an exception.”

“Why?” Grimm, who should have been thrilled to accompany William, instead looked uneasy.

“Here’s the thing, in the deepest part of the third level, there’s a book called Unforgettable History. That book seals the Forbidden Sage’s Demon General, Secret Keeper. Due to some things that happened in the past, it won’t be very willing to appear after sensing my aura. If it doesn’t come out, the book can’t be opened and read.”

William’s hand landed on Grimm’s shoulder, as if to impart some confidence.

“Therefore, I need you to do me a small favor…”

“Wait, Presiding Judge, you don’t mean…”

Grimm’s face turned ghostly white.

“Yes, I just need you to go to the deepest part of the library and help me open that book.