Chapter 9: Only the Dead are Useless
Chapter 9: The Useless Ones Are the Ones Who Die
The dorms for newly promoted Level-One apprentices were located from the 6th to the 9th floors, but most people lived on the 6th floor.
Saul thought that once he returned to his dorm, he’d see a servant delivering textbooks and supplies.
What he didn’t expect was to find a familiar face waiting outside the door of Room 604.
Syd, the Second-Level apprentice who had overseen the tests, was now standing there with his arms crossed, staring straight at Saul as he walked alongside Keli.
His face was full of mockery.
Saul’s heart tightened, and he quickly glanced at the hardcover book hovering by his left shoulder.
It floated there quietly, not opening at all.
He let out a breath and braced himself, walking toward Syd while enduring his icy stare.
“Senior, were you looking for me?” Saul asked, bowing his head slightly, eyes fixed on Syd’s hands.
Second-level apprentices normally had no reason to be here.
Many new apprentices were startled and stood at a distance, watching with anxious suspicion.
They had all seen Syd melt the chubby boy during the test. For these kids who’d come from outside, even just watching had been like a nightmare.
Even Keli remained three meters away, expressionless as she watched.
Syd dropped his arms, and the mocking grin on his face deepened.
He leaned forward, speaking with his mouth practically above Saul’s head:
“I know how you cheated your way through the test.”
Saul’s eyes shot upward, meeting Syd’s with a sharp angle.
“But... I won’t revoke your apprentice status,” Syd said, straightening up and crossing his arms, his tone sounding a little less hostile.
“You know,” he continued, “someone with only spiritual aptitude but no magical potential… will only die even worse! Hahahaha!”
Syd didn’t bother lowering his voice. Saul could already hear people whispering behind him.
“I’m really looking forward to hearing news of your death. If you die impressively, I wouldn’t mind turning your corpse into a wax statue to display on the fourth floor—for the lowly servants to learn from.”
“Don’t you DARE. Think! So! Highly! Of yourself!”
Saul felt as if electricity was crawling across his skin from head to toe.
Syd was thrilled by the way Saul’s face turned pale.
He stepped back half a pace and admired him like an art piece.
“Well then, I look forward to next time.”
He sneered, dropped all pretense, and turned to leave.
Everyone in the hallway moved aside, pressing against the walls, terrified of blocking the senior apprentice’s path.
Once Syd disappeared around the sloped hallway bend, Saul let out a long breath, feeling the numbness in his limbs finally fade.
He lowered his head and reached for the doorknob, ignoring the gazes around him—he knew they wouldn’t be friendly.
Becoming a wizard apprentice had been his choice, and he was fully aware that his talent was lacking.
So even if everyone around him doubted or mocked him—Saul would not give up.
He reached out to open the door—but suddenly, another hand slapped onto the door panel.
Saul looked up and saw Duke’s twisted face.
“Shanqi... he actually died because of a piece of trash like you?” Duke’s chest heaved.
“People with no talent have no right to study magic! Go rot back with your servant trash!”
A wave of rage rose in Saul’s chest—so hot it burned his throat.
He struck out with his left hand.
His bone-white skeletal hand clamped tightly around Duke’s head, like gripping a leather ball.
Hair and skin dented under the pressure, and even the skull made cracking sounds.
Duke’s curses turned to screams.
“AH! AAAAH! AAAAH—!”
Under Saul’s massive and irresistible strength, Duke was slowly forced to his knees.
“The ones who died… they’re the real trash!” Saul growled through clenched teeth.
He raised his eyes, glaring at the gathered onlookers in the corridor—and tightened his grip.
“AAAAHHHH!!!”
Duke’s wails turned piercing, like needles stabbing into everyone’s minds.
The crowd couldn’t help but take a step back.
But suddenly, a hand landed on Saul’s left arm.
Eyes still red with fury, Saul turned—only to find that Keli had somehow come up behind him.
She looked at Saul with complete indifference—as if he were eating lunch, not nearly killing someone.
Keli raised her Apprentice Rulebook and waved it in front of his face.
“Rule Three: Apprentices may not kill each other. Violators will be skinned alive. If you really want to kill him, let’s find a more secluded spot next time.”
She hadn’t lowered her voice at all.
Both Saul and the kneeling Duke heard her clearly.
Maybe it was the chill in Keli’s voice, or the breeze from the flapping book—but the fire in Saul’s chest cooled.
He let go.
Duke, face now etched with deep fingerprints, scrambled away on all fours and fled into the crowd.
“You’re right,” Saul said, watching Duke’s pathetic retreat, "Next time, I’ll kill him somewhere quiet!”
He no longer paid attention to the stares around him and pushed open the door to his room.
Just as he turned to close it—Keli ducked under his arm and slipped inside.
Saul paused for a second, then quietly shut the door.
“You didn’t bring any luggage?” Keli wandered around the room with her hands behind her back.
Saul didn’t reply.
She walked back and stood in front of him—both were in their teens, but she was slightly taller than him.
“How did you cheat? Pretended to faint to skip the magic aptitude test?”
Saul turned his head away.
Keli shifted to face him again.
“Your magic aptitude is poor, isn’t it?”
“Mm!”
Saul didn’t lose his temper—Keli was the only one who stood by him. He just grunted through his nose.
“Low magic aptitude is tricky,” she said bluntly, "You might burn out after casting only a few spells. But your spiritual aptitude was the best of everyone that day.”
She suddenly extended her right hand to Saul.
“Genius should walk with genius.
Hello, I’m Keli—ranked first in magic aptitude.”
“…Saul.”
After a pause, Saul placed his right hand into hers.
…
Just like that, he had gained a weird new friend.
After Keli left, Saul sat at his desk. Thinking back on his earlier edgy outburst, he couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.
But he quickly gathered his thoughts.
Unlike Keli, who still had the title of genius, his name would spread for cheating—probably in the worst way.
But Saul didn’t have time to worry about his reputation. To become an apprentice, he’d walked into a mystery even he didn’t understand.
That anger earlier… had been mostly fear—fear of Syd.
Now, with reason restored—
Saul tore off a page and began to write down some names.
Brown.
Syd.
Kongsha.
Keli.
Duke.
Brown had been deliberately targeting him—clearly someone was behind it.
Saul wrote “Enemy” next to his name.
Syd had obvious hatred for Saul. Saul even suspected Syd might be the one behind Brown.
The hardcover book had warned Saul: after the magic aptitude test, Syd would try to kill him. And today, Syd had waited at his door and broadcast Saul’s secret…
So Saul wrote “Mortal Enemy” next to Syd’s name.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do against this mortal enemy… yet.
He could only hope that now that he was an apprentice, Syd wouldn’t act openly.
“Next… Kongsha.” Saul whispered the name of the person who had changed his fate.
He wrote a question mark next to her.
That terrifying appearance and mysterious power—Saul was deeply wary of her.
For now, he still didn’t know what Kongsha wanted from him.
Weak as he was, all he could do was take things one step at a time.
He skipped Keli’s name and moved on to the last:
Duke.
Even after venting once, seeing the name still pissed him off.
He raised his pen and quickly wrote beside it: “Big idiot…”
Knock knock knock!
A knock on the door cut him off.
He crumpled the page and stuffed it into his pocket.
He opened the door to find a beautiful girl of about 17 or 18. She wore an extremely revealing maid outfit, chest out and hips back, striking a pose that would dazzle any teenage boy.
She was pushing a small cart piled high with books, supplies, and daily essentials.
She bowed her head and smiled sweetly.
“Good afternoon, Lord Saul. These are the books and tools you’ll need for your studies. Shall I help you push them in?”
Saul took the cart handle.
“No need. Thank you.”
The maid bent deeply—her ample chest nearly brushing Saul’s nose.
“Would milord require… any other services?”
(End of Chapter)
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