"I am Rose's favored one, no one can restrict my freedom!" Santila tried her best to argue for her future.

The demonic fire leaping in the temple shone on the drow girl's pretty, angry face.

She was travel-stained, and her magic elf boots were stained with the dust and filth from the trading bazaars.

"My father can arrange the best magic training for me. There is no need to go to the Warlock Academy." Santila quickly glanced at the chief mage, hoping that he could say a word to help her.

But the other party's cold and tense expression was clearly telling her not to count on her help.

This made her speaking momentum gradually weaken.

Matron Elizabeth of the Tux family swept across Santila's angry face with her scarlet eyes, and a smile crept onto her mean lips.

"In fact," she said softly to the drow girl, "just because you are Rose's favored one, many people hope to see the day you enter the academy."

Mentioning Spider-Queen Lolth.

Santila's heart sank, but she knew that there was no way she could escape this disaster.

After all, Rose's favor is a double-edged sword, and she must use it properly.

All right.

She took a deep breath, adjusted her breathing, and thought stubbornly: At least this is not the worst case scenario.

It's hard to lose her freedom, but she really likes to study magic, and she can do it in the Warlock Academy.

The most important thing is that she can be unaffected by any conspiracy and betrayal for a whole year.

In a sense, she can also use this identity to change the style of the boring Warlock Academy, which is also a kind of fun.

"When are you going?" After thinking about it, she asked directly.

"There's no need to be in a hurry." Mistress Elizabeth pondered for a moment, her red eyes suddenly flashed with vicious amusement, "You can do it tomorrow."

"Follow your orders."

Santila nodded slightly, "I will report to the Warlock Academy on time tomorrow."

The Chief Archmage, who was watching on the sidelines, raised his eyelids and said nothing in the end.

"I'm afraid you misunderstood me, dear child." Mother Elizabeth smiled, her voice full of false kindness, "You should report to the Spider Academy."

"What?!"

Santila looked shocked and blurted out in anger and confusion.

She shook off a strand of hair from her forehead and suddenly turned to the chief mage.

At this moment, she suddenly understood what the purpose of Mistress Elizabeth, an old spider, was in suddenly calling her father here.

Just as Santila guessed, the Chief Archmage looked at her with a pair of light-colored eyes that made her irritated, showing an intimidating expression.

He raised his hand and said bluntly in a tone that required silence to hear clearly, "This is the tradition of the ancient city of Orens, and it is also the will of the goddess Rose."

Santila swallowed down the protest and dissatisfaction in her heart and nodded with great difficulty.

She finally understood.

If what she expected was true, Rose's favor on the day of the Founding of the City must have been a trap set by her father.

Because she thought about it, except for the Chief Archmage, who had a motive worthy of taking action, and others were eager to have this kind of grace bestowed on themselves, how could it be possible for her to take advantage of it.

At the same time, she was extremely angry at Matron Elisabetta for transferring her to the Priest College.

But he was also angry that he had fallen into the shameless little trap designed by this old spider so easily.

Elisabetta deliberately seduced her into thinking that she was going to the Warlock Academy, but the mistress had always planned to send her to the Spider Academy.

If she refused at this time, she couldn't imagine what would happen if she angered Rose.

This made her extremely angry at the trap set by the Chief Archmage.

Without Rose's grace, she could even leave on the spot.

After all, she never thought about serving that eight-legged female spider, or even becoming her bullshit priest.

Santila couldn't imagine what she would face next. Asking her to kneel in front of an eight-legged spider and pray devoutly was even more uncomfortable than killing her.

In her chaotic thoughts, she almost didn't notice what Matron Elizabeth said next, nor did she hear the words to leave.

In her daze, she felt the chief mage's hand on her shoulder, and then he pushed her out of the temple without any gentleness.

This old bastard, Khadrov, has actually started plotting against me, she thought through gritted teeth.

When she reached the door of the shrine, Mother Elizabeth stopped her.

Santila turned to face the old spider. By the standards of the drow, this old woman was not particularly attractive. No wonder she couldn't even find a mate.

Her white hair is long and sparse, tightly braided, and coiled on top of her head like a pile of Lothian dung.

Her attire is also very simple, a long piece of elf mail and a priest's robe.

Matron Elizabeth does not need traditional decorations to show her loyalty to Lolth. She is the highest-ranking priest in the city and enjoys the greatest favor of the goddess Lolth.

Santila finally saw that the old woman had stripped away all the pretense of politeness on her face.

At this moment, what was displayed in front of her was a pair of narrowed eyes, showing smugness and malice.

This made her want to raise her foot and kick her hard on her old face.

There will definitely be a chance, she thought calmly.

"Listen up, my child. As the favored one of Rose, you must abide by the same rules as other trainee priests and further win the favor of the goddess Rose. Otherwise, your end will be death!"

Matron Elizabeth gave the chief mage a teasing look happily, and then gave Santila a cold smile, "However, you still have one last night to indulge in carnival, so enjoy it."

"enjoy it......"

Santila sighed feebly and felt the Chief Archmage passing by her. She deliberately sarcastically muttered to herself:

"I don't know if this suggestion was made by some guys who like to whip people with snake heads for fun, or if they were hiding in caves..."

"You must learn to control your mouth." The Chief Archmage stopped and reminded coldly, "Remember, the life of drow is a cold and serious art, and no priest of any sect has a sense of humor.

"

"Do you really want me to become a priest?" Santila looked at him suspiciously, trying to arouse his self-esteem with words, "Isn't my magic talent worth your efforts?"

as usual.

Khadrof Pumour wore the Chief Mage's illustrious drow cloak, a piece of magical equipment with many hidden pockets.

It is said that he possesses more magical materials and weapons than most drow wizards will ever see in their lifetime.

Two wands hung conspicuously on his belt, and no one suspected that he had more weapons hidden on his body.

Because it is a symbol of his identity and strength.

After all, he has survived in the betrayal-filled ancient city of Orens for nearly ten centuries, relying on his magical talents and matching cunning and shrewd tricks.

He is still alive, but thousands of years have made him harsh and cold. Even among the drow, he is extremely famous for his evil and cruelty.

It was hard to imagine that her ambitious father, who had already made it clear to everyone that he had almost no devotion to serving Rose, would now succumb to the power of the female spider.

The proud Chief Archmage will also endure the provocation and ridicule of the Mistress of the Tux Family with frustration.

"I admit that you are indeed very talented in magic."

The chief mage didn't care about Santila's profound words, and said calmly, "After all, you possess powerful spiritual and magical power. As a priest, you can easily achieve greater success than magic. I am very optimistic about you."

The potential, don’t let me down.”

A ridiculous lie that didn't even bother to cover up, Santila looked at him with disappointment.

She had completely confirmed in her mind that her father had set a trap for her on the City Founding Day.

"You doubt me?"

The chief mage saw through her thoughts at a glance, "Very good, so your judgment has really improved."

"Sure enough, it was you." Santila's heart sank, her face instantly turned cold, and she blurted out.

"Precisely."

The Archmage was unmoved, and there was no trace of emotion in his gentle voice.

"I really want to do this, but obviously, someone has done it better and more perfectly than me. If I know who it is, believe me, I will definitely thank him for his enthusiastic help."

not him?

A new doubt arose in Santila: Who could it be?

The Archmage looked at his child who was deep in thought. He was silent for a while, as if he was considering whether he should say the following words.

After hesitating for a moment, he said in a softer voice, "Do you know why the drow society tolerates the existence of our wizards?"

"Help them prepare a happy potion? Or make magic props for flirting?" Santila glanced at him alertly and answered casually.

"Put away your black humor and stop talking nonsense to me!" The archmage looked at his child angrily, with obvious sullenness in his tone.

"This is very important to us wizards, you must think about it carefully. Look, in the ancient city of Orens, Rose is the only god believed in, and her priestly rule has no challenge. In addition to breeding more priests for them

, why do they need men? Why do they tolerate men having the power of magic?"
To be continued...