Heir of Synthesis: The World Mage

That blunt, mocking reply instantly ignited Validar’s suppressed rage. The old man’s hand trembled so violently with fury that it looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as he pointed a shriveled finger at Priam.

”You... you... YOU...!”

Watching that arrogant Elder Leader lose it to the point of choking on his own saliva instantly sent Mishnar’s and every disciple of the 11th Branch into a much better mood.

If the victims from the 10th Branch—who had been extorted and humiliated by Validar before—could witness this scene, they would probably build a golden statue of Priam in the middle of their central square.

”Good heavens, Young Master! The old fossil’s dementia has reached the terminal stage!” Dandara exclaimed, pretending to be utterly horrified. ”Young Master, this is extremely serious! The stroke hit him hard, and the poor thing has regressed into a drooling baby. The only word his melted brain can process anymore is ’you’!”

Priam let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head with fake pity.

”How tragic... Looks like the last two neurons in his head finally burned out.”

”Neurons?” Dandara blinked, looking genuinely confused. ”Is that some kind of pigsty parasite?”

”Cough, cough... Never mind, it’s a technical term,” Priam replied with a light cough. Then he pointed at Validar and changed the subject.

”Back to the point... Hey, walking mummy, unless you put a nice, juicy reward on the table, who the hell is going to waste their time playing with your bunch of puppets? Do you think we’ve got nothing better to do?”

The moment he heard that, Validar let out an inward sigh of relief. The hatred in his eyes was replaced by a sinister gleam.

Priam wasn’t refusing the fight.

He wanted to make a wager!

Perfect. That brat’s arrogance would become his own downfall, because Validar’s confidence in his disciples was absolute.

His ten disciples belonged to the elite class, and even though they came from the third strongest faction, the gap between them and the first-ranked faction was minimal. That was because the 8th Branch invested more than ten times the resources into its disciples than the 11th Branch did.

In the 11th Branch, disciples had to save every point they earned just to obtain decent resources. On top of that, only the top two or three factions could actually secure the bare minimum needed to keep progressing.

The 8th Branch, on the other hand, had so many ways to earn points that even a disciple from the lowest-ranked faction could enjoy the same resources as the first-ranked one, provided they were capable and hardworking enough. Of course, the top faction still had the enormous advantage of having plenty of free time to study and train however they pleased.

As for pills, weapons, and Magic Arts, any outstanding disciple could obtain them simply by asking. In the 11th Branch, meanwhile, the building containing all the Magic Arts was only accessible to Mage Master disciples.

In short, the gap between the strongest External Branch and the second weakest was like heaven and earth. Even the aura of those disciples was on an entirely different level. That was why Validar had never considered them a threat.

Thinking of that, Validar broke into a grotesque smile dripping with scorn.

Behind him, his disciples burst into laughter like a pack of rabid hyenas.

”They really are a bunch of starving beggars and country bumpkins! Hahaha!”

”The nerve! That idiot sitting on a throne thinks he’s a king, but he’s nothing more than a circus monkey running an asylum.”

Nearly all ten of them hurled similar insults.

Hearing that endless stream of venom, Lumiere, Walhart, and every disciple from the 11th Branch felt their blood boil.

Putting up with mockery from an Elder Leader was one thing—after all, compared to a Sage-level expert, they were nothing but ants. But being ridiculed and humiliated by disciples of the same Rank? That was an unbearable insult. Everyone clenched their fists so tightly that their knuckles turned white.

Priam, however, kept that mocking little smile on his face.

Cheap taunts only worked on immature idiots or desperate, prideful fools. Priam’s mindset was rock solid: if the enemy wanted him to get angry, the worst thing he could do was give them that satisfaction.

The calmer, more mocking, and more indifferent he appeared, the more his opponents would feel as though their insults were punching empty air. In the end, they would be the ones having heart attacks from sheer frustration.

Dandara seized the opportunity perfectly. She dramatically covered her nose with a handkerchief and took two steps back.

”Young Master! I was wrong!” Dandara murmured, her voice muffled and overflowing with theatrical disgust. ”...that senile old man’s dementia and schizophrenia are contagious! And the garbage-breath from those little vultures behind him is spreading the virus through the air! Let’s get out of here before we catch the plague of being stupid, spiritually poor, and ugly!”

Priam took a deep breath, keeping himself from laughing. Then he nodded.

”Let’s get this over with. As I said, if you came here just to make demands, I refuse. But...”

”What do you want? Just say it already. No matter what it is, I’ll accept it,” Validar said coldly.

Priam smiled.

”I heard your 8th Branch specializes in Pills and Inscriptions, right? I don’t want anything too excessive. I want all of your highest-quality beginner Jade Slips in those two fields, along with, of course, every beginner-level pill recipe and inscription blueprint.”

”What?” Validar narrowed his eyes.

His branch had reached its current status precisely because it possessed the finest knowledge and techniques for producing outstanding Alchemy Masters and Inscription Masters. Those things were priceless treasures.

But Priam had specifically asked for materials ”for beginners.” They would only serve to build an incredibly solid foundation. Without the intermediate and advanced knowledge needed to build a great structure on top of that foundation, everything he requested would be practically useless.

A Mage could certainly use that exceptional foundation to forge their own path. But... what were the chances of succeeding?

Countless figures had devoted their entire lives to building that body of knowledge. A single person trying to recreate everything from scratch would hardly get anywhere.

In other words, it was as if Priam had only asked for a tiny, incomplete piece of that treasure.

”What is it?” Priam asked seriously. ”My request isn’t excessive. Besides, we’re from the same sect. If you hand those things over after losing, there won’t be any punishment or trouble from the Main Sect.”

Priam had arrived at the arena shortly after Mishnar and Validar began arguing. Because of that, he had overheard Mishnar mention the 8th External Branch’s specialty.

On top of that, during his exile on that planet, he had realized just how incredible and useful high-level inscriptions could be. As for Alchemy and pills, there was no need to even mention them. So, even though he absolutely hated the idea of wasting time studying that kind of stuff... he knew he had no choice.

That was why he wanted to obtain that basic knowledge and study it.

Every External Branch of the sect had its own specialty.

That was because the Main Sect wanted to gather as many different skills as possible.

The 8th Branch had originally specialized in Catalyst Mages in general. However, over the centuries, it had fortunately developed and acquired extraordinary methods from other universes.

Nowadays, only one-third of its disciples were Catalyst Mages. Even so, they were all above average by the universe’s standards, and they conducted business with other regions, securing an enormous amount of resources for the branch.

Validar didn’t hesitate for more than a brief moment. In his branch, it was absolutely forbidden to share any of those techniques or even wager them. If any disciple dared to try, they would be executed immediately.

But he was the Elder Leader.

He could do whatever he wanted.

And as far as he was concerned, there wasn’t even the slightest possibility of defeat.

”I accept,” Validar declared. Then he turned toward Mishnar. ”I officially announce that if I lose, I’ll give him everything he asked for. But if you lose, two-thirds of your Sacred Mission slots will be transferred to my branch.”

Priam turned toward Mishnar.

She sighed and nodded.

”You can trust him. An official announcement is an unbreakable law within the sect. If he truly loses and refuses to honor the wager, the sect won’t just step in and make sure you receive what you’re owed—it’ll also strip him of his position.”

Mishnar and everyone else immediately became tense.

Because winning this contest seemed completely impossible.

”Excellent. Then let’s begin. In every round, we’ll send out one disciple and announce their class. You may choose any Mage of the same Rank to face them, because we have no intention of intimidating you. We’ll give you the initiative,” Validar said with a dark smile.

But...

Priam slowly stretched while still sitting in the chair. Then he stood up and rolled his shoulders.

Finally, he turned toward Validar with complete indifference.

”Our wager was a match against your ten disciples. So there’s no need to make choices or waste time...

I’ll be the only one fighting.

You can send all ten disciples at once. That way I can finish this quickly and still have time for a nap before lunch.”

At that instant, nearly everyone in the arena widened their eyes in shock.

Only the members of Priam’s faction felt their hearts begin pounding wildly.