The Most Arbitrary Wizard

"3=8?"

Laelando was completely baffled.

How could 3 possibly equal 8?

This wasn’t some open-ended question like "1+1=?" where you could define your own answer. This was a proof!

Moreover, it was a proof that defied the very foundations of mathematics. It seemed impossible at first glance, and on a second, closer look... it was even more impossible.

Laelando knew that since Sean could write this problem, there must be a valid proof for it.

But he still felt compelled to ask on behalf of the countless student Wizards, for a problem so counter-intuitive and contrary to common sense...

"You call this simple?"

Sean looked puzzled. "Isn’t it simple?"

Laelando: "?"

’Seriously? Do you have any idea how hard this is?’

Sean thought for a moment, then said, "If you think it’s too simple and lacks a challenge, and that it would make you instructors look like you’re deliberately trying to give everyone a hard time, I can switch to a more difficult problem."

Laelando: "?"

’That’s really not necessary!’

Sean, seemingly not finished, added, "How about I come up with a few more at this level of difficulty?"

"There’s no need!" Laelando refused flatly.

"We’ll go with this one."

Normally, each Judge was supposed to set three problems. The official rule was one to three, but it was almost always three. The more problems one set, the better one could prove their abilities to Her Highness the Saintess. At the same time, watching those Wizards scratch their heads in front of their questions, utterly stumped, gave the Judges a sense of accomplishment. Your teacher will always be your teacher, you know?

But the moment Sean presented his first problem, Laelando didn’t dare let him offer another. Otherwise, this session of the Table of Truth might turn into a problem-solving marathon.

Although they always tried to make their questions as complex as possible, they also did their best to keep the difficulty at a level the Wizards could handle. At the very least, they had to ensure some of the students could solve them. Otherwise, Her Highness the Saintess would reprimand them.

The Hall of Truth had an old saying: there are no unteachable students, only teachers who cannot teach.

Wizards’ Talents were screened before they could even begin learning the Truth Technique. The ones who ultimately became students were no fools. If they couldn’t be taught properly, whose fault was it but the teacher’s?

Serving a monarch is like sleeping with a tiger!

Too difficult was unacceptable, but so was too easy. The former would make the Saintess think they weren’t teaching the students properly, while the latter would lead her to believe they were incompetent, unable to even handle the students.

They had to strike the perfect balance.

And clearly, Sean had no sense of this balance.

He was young, after all. He really didn’t know how to pull his punches!

Laelando had already decided to use the "3=8" proof as the final, show-stopping question. Since it was the finale, one would be enough. He figured he should make a quick exit.

Before he left, Laelando asked tentatively, "So, how does 3 equal 8?"

Sean shot back in surprise, "You don’t know?"

Laelando: "..."

’Who says I don’t!’

’I do know!’

’Besides, it’s not like Sean knows whether I know or not.’

So, Laelando said with a deadpan expression, "I just wanted to see if your line of reasoning differed from my own."

"Oh, I see..." Sean nodded. "It’s always good to exchange academic ideas."

"Why don’t you go first, then?"

Laelando: "..."

’What’s there to say about such a simple problem?’

"I must be going."

Laelando beat a hasty retreat.

"Hey, wait... Why are you leaving already? I’m not done having fun yet!" Sean called out.

But the old man’s retreating figure was resolute, his steps firm. Without turning back, he replied, "I have to get back to my class."

’Are you kidding me? If I let Sean have his fun now, we’d be the ones suffering in a week.’

"Alright, then. Take care," Sean said, walking to the doorway to watch Laelando descend the stairs. "I won’t see you all the way out."

This dorm didn’t have an elevator. For a lazy guy like him, living on the seventh floor was a real pain.

Fortunately, Sean was a natural homebody.

Or rather, he had always been a homebody in this life. With Ryan bringing him his meals, he could go half a year without leaving his dorm room.

After seeing Laelando off, Sean turned his attention back to news about the Saintess.

As the dream of every Wizard in False Heaven, the Saintess’s every move was watched with rapt attention. Each of her appearances was like that of an international superstar; a chance glimpse was enough to brag about for an entire day.

Sean didn’t know how far False Heaven was from Elderidge, the Holy City of the Church Court, but for security reasons, he figured the distance couldn’t be too short. The Table of Truth was next week, and the Saintess would need time to rest and compose herself after arriving—she couldn’t just rush straight into it. Therefore, Her Highness Diana, the object of fascination for thousands of Wizards, was most likely either preparing to depart or already on her way.

Little did he know, the Saintess placed even more importance on the Table of Truth than he imagined.

Diana wasn’t on her way—she had already arrived.

It was just that no one knew except for Guard Officer Catherine.

Besides, when a Grand Mage needed to travel, they often didn’t have to endure the hardships of a long journey.

As the largest remaining bastion of the Holy Sanctuary, False Heaven was naturally equipped with a dedicated Teleportation Magic Array.

Should anything happen in the city, good or bad, Diana could arrive in an instant if she so wished.

「West of the City.」

Inside Black Rose Castle.

Wizards were training hard on the practice grounds, beads of sweat on their cheeks glistening like crystals under the Sunshine.

As soldiers who could be deployed to the battlefield or sent on missions at any moment, possessing Magic Power alone was not enough. They also had to have reaction speeds and combat skills far exceeding those of ordinary people. Take the most basic Fireball Technique, for instance. It was the first Magic every Wizard learned, but some couldn’t hit a target seven paces away, while others could use it to kill an enemy from a hundred meters. That was the difference.

A Wizard who only knew Meditation was like a hothouse flower: no matter how beautiful, it would shatter at the slightest touch once taken outside.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!