High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1021 - 83: The Death of Lineage

Chapter 1021: Chapter 83: The Death of Lineage

"Three hundred years ago, a great school was established on Buji Island, breaking the barriers of bloodline. Today, we stand in this school, on this land soaked with the sweat and heartblood of our predecessors."

"The establishment of this school, like the fire stolen by Prometheus from the heavens, brought new hope to thousands who had no bloodline inheritance and lacked systematic means of learning."

"The establishment of this school, like Venus appearing before dawn, heralded the explosion of modern magical civilization."

"Yet, three hundred years later, we must admit that discrimination by bloodline has not disappeared from the wizard world. Young wizards lacking talent are still shut out by those self-righteous cliques."

"They shout that there are ’no noble minds, only noble bloodlines’; they insist that ’the essence of education is to stimulate and guide the students’ talents’; they practice a narrow ’freedom and justice’ and take pride in it!"

"Their stubborn stance severely deviates from the original intent behind the founding of First University!"

"This is not the school that Nameless Chancellor has hoped to see!"

"Today, we gather here to open more eyes to see this filthy sky overhead, this blood-stained sky... to shout out loud! To raise your arms with strength! To contribute your intelligence with heart!"

"This is the ’Holy Will’ of First University!"

"This is the thunder that roars before the revival of everything in spring!"

"This is our ’judgment’, representing the advanced direction, against the backward forces!"

...

...

On the bluestone, the tall, thin wizard giving the speech waved his arms passionately, his tone fervent.

Below the bluestone, the crowd of young wizards gathered in larger numbers, with cheers, whistles and the muffled burst of overloaded Speaker Flowers alternating with the occasional flashes of pale blue, the sign of journalists rushing to take photos and videos.

Even near Bell Lake, not far from the small square, several fishmen heads popped out of the water, listening with keen interest.

Zheng Qing and his two companions stood on the outskirts of the crowd.

Though the young wizard on stage hadn’t used an amplification spell or similar alchemical goods, the chilly breeze helped carry his voice to many passing students’ ears.

Zheng Qing stood on the outskirts, his eyebrows tightly furrowed.

"I always thought they were just competing for first place," the young cost student caught the deeper content of the speech, his tone quite serious, "but why does it sound like this conflict has the potential to escalate?"

Clearly, the speaker on the bluestone was very likely a wizard from ’Holy Will,’ and he was attacking the very theories upheld by the Blood Comrades.

In Zheng Qing’s experience, conflicts between student clubs were generally about struggles for seats at the Club Union meetings, or debates over policy at student council meetings where the metaphorical ’east wind overpowers the west wind, the west wind overpowers the east wind’ kind of opposition took place.

At worst, members of different clubs would post a few snide polemics on the notice board, or hunting teams belonging to different clubs would engage in a deadly battle in the hunting grounds.

But now, listening to the speech at the square, he suddenly discerned a slightly ominous undertone.

Lei Zhe’s "Holy Will" attacked not only the Blood Comrades but also the behemoth standing behind them: Alpha Academy—or rather, the pedagogical philosophy that Alpha Academy had always adhered to.

Unlike Zheng Qing, who focused on listening to the lecture, Xiao Xiao was fully engaged in taking notes—his writing speed was so fast that his feather pen’s quill split open, and he didn’t have time to smooth it out.

Upon hearing the young sponsored student’s question, Doctor Xiao simply waved his hand and signaled, "We’ll talk about it later, keep listening, no talking."

Hearing this, Zheng Qing had no choice but to tightly bind his confusion and wait for the doctor’s explanation.

Fortunately, the wizard’s lecture was nearing its conclusion, using a series of parallelisms and metaphors to enhance the rhythm and momentum of his speech:

"...Students! I notice that many of the young wizards standing here today come from historically long-established wizard families. They are not shackled by narrow bloodlines and inheritances, but bravely embrace the sacred will of this school!"

"And they are not our only comrades!"

"We come from societies of commoners, from the shabby alleys of North Beta Town, from Danghag, from Four Seasons Pavilion, from the dark basements of Thorn Ancient Castle, from the hidden camps on the Bank of Rhine, from silent graveyards, from the dazzling starry sky, from the wilderness and dense forests of the New World beyond Blue Star!"

"We come from every known corner, standing in this campus for a great dream!"

"This school has lost its direction!"

"We have the responsibility to rescue it, to help it find the right path once again! Therefore, we must fight for it!"

"When we fight, we cannot retreat, we cannot surrender, we cannot give up!"

"Until victory, and then, we can embrace each other with smiles—at that time, for all of us, the word ’wizard’ will be imbued with a new meaning."

"He will not be biased because of differences in bloodlines, nor harbor resentment due to different origins, nor will he lose faith in the starry sky above and the road beneath because of his efforts!"

"He will steadfastly walk on the ’Path,’ forging a far more distant future for our descendants!"

"Students, today I stand here before you to say, although the road ahead is full of obstacles and thorns, it will never become a nightmare that impedes our progress; instead, through that fuzzy dream, we can see the future in the fog... a real, fair, and equal future!"

"He is like a ship at sea, already sighting the tip of the mast from the shore, he is like the sun at the peak of a high mountain, its light bursting forth in the east, he is like a baby stirring in the womb, about to come to maturity."

"He is so near to us, almost within our reach!"

"And our opponents, confined by tradition and ancient shackles, struggle to move forward, their future dim."

"Bloodlines were once alive. In the darkest of eras, they preserved the wizard’s heritage, like a traveler braving the storm with a candle, commanding our respect."

"Bloodlines are nearly extinct today. In the brightest of times, they stubbornly stand their ground, grudgingly holding onto their tiny candlelight, completely disregarding the blazing sun outside."

"Bloodlines have no future anymore. Like a kappa struggling across the desert, with every step, it uses up the precious essence in its lunar disk."

"Each of us casting a grain of sand will eventually form a sea of sand, drowning that dying past."

"The sand dunes that eventually accumulate will be the grave of bloodlines!"

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