High School of Demon Hunting
Chapter 1033 - 95: 1st Curse Course of the 2nd Term

Chapter 1033: Chapter 95: 1st Curse Course of the 2nd Term

The incident with the giant eyeball in Satoguya had burst, lasted only a few minutes in the minds of the classmates before it was erased by some mysterious force.

By the next morning, Monday’s classes, Zheng Qing was shocked to discover that everyone at the school, including Astronomy Class 08-1 and all members of the Atonement Hunting Team, had completely forgotten about last night’s ’giant eyeball’ and the streak of turquoise light in the night sky.

Even for Zheng Qing, his memories of the scene were becoming blurrier, leaving behind only a clear concept of the event.

It was clear that someone, or some people, with immense power, were erasing the impact of the Giant Sinful Demon’s appearance. For Zheng Qing, the outcomes were mixed. The good part was that he seemed to not have to worry about Satoguya causing him trouble in the short term, but the downside was that he had offended the Giant Sinful Demon even more severely.

Moreover, the means used by the relevant departments to erase the impact of the sinful demon deeply troubled the young warlock, making him even more eager to attain greater magic power.

This meant that he had to study even more diligently.

After more than half a year of university life, Zheng Qing had a rough understanding of his future path as a wizard, and a foreseeable expectation though not very clear—like graduating on time and becoming a skilled registered wizard.

Of course, these goals were still a bit far off for a student who had just started his university journey half a year ago. What he could do now was to earn as many credits as possible and master the magical knowledge taught by the professors thoroughly.

According to the teaching plan at the First University, the freshman year for young wizards is a period of adaptation and solidifying fundamentals. Most young wizards had received adequate magic education in high school before entering university, able to control their magic power from going awry, and skilled in using magic power to perform some standard spells or prepare some simple standard potions.

Some young wizards with higher talents might even develop some impractical, but creatively inspired, minor spells before entering university.

But this wasn’t all there was to university education.

At the First University, apart from mastering enough standard curses and potions, young wizards needed to establish a correct worldview and a view of magic, and learn to reach the essence of magic through spells and divination.

This point was very clearly felt by everyone starting from the first curse class of the second week of school, the first semester of freshman year.

There was no significant change in the curriculum between the first and second semester; even the arrangements for class times were mostly identical, with the first class on Monday still being Professor Yao’s curse studies.

The only change was on Thursday afternoon’s elective class, which everyone needed to reselect.

Zheng Qing fiddled with the Course Tree at the academic office for a long time and selected a course on ’Fishman Common Language.’ Although he wasn’t particularly talented in languages, driven by curiosity about other intelligent beings and his previous encounters with fishmen, he eventually chose this course.

According to the senior in charge of adjusting the schedule at the academic office, the professor for ’Fishman Common Language’ was a very special old fishman. What made him special was that, unlike the wild creatures in Lin Zhong Lake, he did not carry the same pungent smell, and he was a long-living fishman who also held a seat on the faculty senate.

But I digress.

Just like last semester, Professor Yao still liked to clench his deep red smoking pipe in class. However, it is unclear whether someone had complained, but in these recent classes, Zheng Qing had not seen him puffing smoke.

But none of that stopped the professor from nonchalantly calling Zheng Qing’s name during class, asking him to stand up and answer questions.

"What do you think is the essence of magic?" Old Yao, biting his pipe, hands pressed on the lecture desk, leaned slightly forward, his gaze fixed on a young publicly funded student at the back of the classroom—like the Arcana roster, the allocation for publicly funded students was also reviewed annually, so although Zheng Qing’s exam results were not satisfactory, he still bore the title of a Jiuyou Academy publicly funded student.

Upon hearing Old Yao’s question, Zheng Qing couldn’t help but roll his eyes inwardly.

He felt that discussions about the ’essence of magic’ seemed more appropriate for the ’Philosophy of Magic’ class on Wednesday afternoons, rather than during a curse course.

Of course, he only dared mutter such complaints to himself, never to raise them in front of Old Yao.

"I remember from last semester you taught us when higher dimensions collapse into lower ones, they release an immense amount of magic power, which is the source of power for our spells," Zheng Qing responded carefully, bit by bit.

"So, I think the essence of magic is some form of control over dimensional fluctuations."

At the lectern, the professor raised his eyebrows.

"Not much knowledge, but quite daring," Old Yao straightened his body, retook his pipe in hand, and critiqued Zheng Qing’s response, "If those Dimensionism folks knew you used ’control’ so casually, they’d probably wash the Jiuyou Academy’s signboard with their spit."

Zheng Qing smiled awkwardly, making no attempt at defense—he felt this old man was just looking for trouble with him over the final exam issue, and it was better to conform rather than be confrontational. After all, Old Yao was the dean of Jiuyou Academy, and being sincere in his behavior, no one would laugh at him.

Old Yao, of course, was unaware of Zheng Qing’s rich inner thoughts.

He waved his hand, signifying Zheng Qing to sit down. Then, without picking another student to stand up and answer the previous question, he reached for a piece of chalk and casually threw it onto the blackboard.

The chalk twisted and slid across the middle of the blackboard, squeaking as it left a string of flamboyant characters.

"On the essence of curses and the charm of magic."

It still felt like a philosophy class, and Zheng Qing, arms dutifully resting on the table, back straight, stared at the traces left by the chalk on the blackboard, and silently muttered a complaint in his mind.

Unlike him, next to him, Doctor Xiao had already spread out his notebook, holding a brush soaked in thick ink, ready to copy down everything.

After a glance at Xiao Xiao, Zheng Qing’s eyes unconsciously shifted in the opposite direction, where a Gypsy witch was sound asleep behind a stack of thick books. This worried Zheng Qing, fearing that Old Yao might hurl the chalk eraser down from the lecture desk.

"Ah, I should have chosen to sit next to her," the young warlock pondered quietly to himself.

But such thoughts were just thoughts; as two witches and warlocks from different cliques, especially since Zheng Qing was the leader of his own small group, he needed to sit in the right place at the right time.

This was a longstanding tradition in the wizarding world.