After two boring math classes, it was time for Allen's favorite physical education class.
The girls went to the tennis courts to unleash their youth.
The boys were herded into the hellish martial arts training hall, subjected to the merciless abuse of Instructor Carter.
Allen took a deep breath and drew his bowstring.
The arrow soared with a whizz, hitting the target fifty meters away.
"Eight rings!"
Instructor Carter pulled a tin flask from his pocket, secretly sipped a sip of wine out of the students' sight, smacked his lips with satisfaction, and then noted Allen's score with a casual comment:
"There's room for improvement. Keep up the good work!"
"Hey, hey! Watch me next!"
A short, stocky boy, with a tuft of yellow hair sticking up from his head, approached, bow in hand.
He feigned a nonchalant air and casually fired an arrow, hitting the bull's eye!
"Ten rings!" Instructor Carter turned to look at the yellow-haired kid. "Robin, fifty meters is too short for you."
"Yes, Instructor! When I practice at home with my dad, I usually shoot at targets a hundred meters away, and I usually only get around nine rings."
The yellow-haired kid acted pretentiously and made sly faces at Allen.
"Hehe..."
Alan sneered as he walked over and grabbed the back of his neck, like an eagle trying to catch a chick.
"You're so arrogant, Robin! I'm not as good as you at archery, but when it comes to fighting... how about we practice in the ring?"
"Uh, forget it! I admit you're better at that!" Robin immediately backed down.
This kid is Allen's best buddy at school. His dad is a hunter, a recognized sharpshooter in town, and he's also quite good with a bow and arrow.
However, Robin's physique was far inferior to Alan's, and he would be beaten to a pulp in a bare-handed fight.
"Alan! You didn't come to school this morning, and we thought you'd been kidnapped by the circus, too!"
Another boy joined in the conversation.
"My absence this morning was indeed related to the circus."
Using this opportunity, Alan briefly recounted his story.
When he got to the thrilling part, the boys around him grew restless.
Some were nervous, some were amazed, and some suspected he was exaggerating, touting himself as a brave and resourceful hero.
Alan ignored the skeptical voices, more concerned with something else.
"I heard two senior boys from our school are missing. Do you know who they are?"
"Both are fifth graders. Marlowe from Class 1, and Hugo from Class 3," someone replied.
Alan nodded thoughtfully.
Marlo and Hugo were both boys in Kelly's grade.
I'd heard from my sister before that both boys had tested positive for superior sorcerer aptitude and were highly regarded by the principal.
"I heard they ate candy at the circus and passed out, then were abducted without anyone noticing."
"There were at least two or three hundred students at the circus yesterday afternoon, and at least ten of them won candy in the lottery. How come only two of them passed out?"
Someone questioned.
"That's right!" Robin interrupted. "I also won third prize yesterday and ate a lollipop, but I didn't feel dizzy or sleepy."
"That's because your aptitude is so low that the kidnappers looked down on you."
The voice of Mr. Carter, the martial arts instructor, suddenly rang from behind Robin.
"Instructor, what do you mean by that?" Robin asked unconvinced.
"Do you need me to explain it more clearly?" Carter glanced at him calmly.
"The gang that kidnapped children through circus performances tampered with the raffle box."
"When you reached in to draw, you unknowingly took a blood test."
"The ticket seller recorded the test results and gave prizes—lollipops—to children with sorcerer potential."
"Robin, you won the prize, which means you have sorcerer potential, but your lollipop didn't contain drugs, which means your talent is only low-level, making it difficult for you to become a true sorcerer."
"The truly valuable targets for abduction are those who test positive for medium or even high-level talent."
"The lollipops given to them as prizes were all drugged."
"Mr. Carter, how did you know all this?" Allen asked calmly.
"The two missing boys, Marlowe and Hugo, were promising prospects for Principal Sora. Moreover, they're from wealthy families. The situation has become so serious, how could I not know about it?"
Mr. Carter stroked his mustache and smiled wryly.
"The principal and the sheriff are both furious and are tracking down the circus. I heard all that inside information from a police officer friend."
"So that's how it is..." Robin scratched his head, a complicated expression on his face. "Perhaps I should be thankful for my mediocre talent."
"Oh, right! Besides Marlowe and Hugo, wasn't there Alan? Didn't he almost get kidnapped?" Robin suddenly thought and turned to look at Alan with envy in his eyes. "So, Alan's sorcerer aptitude must be quite good!"
Instructor Carter shared the same suspicion and asked Alan, "Have you ever had your bloodline tested?"
Even though he had already used the "Gluttony System" to determine his own bloodline, Alan still shook his head.
Students attending this school, starting at age twelve and continuing until sixteen, can take a free bloodline test annually, focusing on the type and concentration of their extraordinary bloodline.
These two indicators together determine a person's talent as a sorcerer.
After sixteen, their bloodline is fixed, and the hope for further growth is slim.
Alan had just turned twelve and had yet to have his bloodline tested at school.
"You'd better get tested; you might be surprised," Instructor Carter advised.
Alan nodded and asked the instructor, "Mr. Carter, are you a warlock?"
"I'm sorry, I'm just an advanced apprentice, not a true warlock." The instructor said, a little embarrassed. "It's mainly because my talent isn't good enough. I've only awakened one type of minotaur bloodline."
"Minotaur... you know, similar to orcs and ogres. They have brute strength, but unfortunately, their mental strength is low, and they're not good at magic."
"Most warlock apprentices with minotaur bloodline are unable to awaken their spellcasting talent, so they have to settle for martial arts."
"Minotaur bloodline isn't bad, actually."
Robin comforted Instructor Carter, whose pride was hurt.
"Our family's ancestral centaur bloodline is actually even worse than the minotaur bloodline."
"Instructor, you're at least an advanced apprentice. My dad's still just a junior apprentice, and he's not even as far along as you!"
Alan could tell.
Robin's words were superficially self-deprecating, but in reality, he was boasting.
In the lives of ordinary people, it's rare to encounter a true sorcerer.
The only sorcerer Alan knew in this small town was the principal, Aunt Sora, rumored to be a Level 1 "Natural Sorcerer." Even the mayor had to be respectful in her presence.
Below the level of sorcerer, junior and senior apprentices possessed special skills unattainable by ordinary people, and they weren't faring too badly.
For example, Instructor Carter, whose status and salary at school were second only to the principal, was a role model for the boys.
Robin's father, Mr. Hunter, was the most prestigious hunter in all of Gwent and the current president of the Hunting Guild.
In contrast, Alan's parents, who ran a tavern, though their business was thriving and their family was relatively well-off, enjoyed considerable prestige among their neighbors, but their social standing was not as high as Carter's and Hunter's.