Chapter 563: No. 13 Magic Pattern
After Bashan and his guild members, some slightly injured and others severely hurt by the aftermath, left the arena, Morgans' loud voice echoed into the sky.
"Kwahahaha! Our first match has concluded."
"The result was that Thunder Spear held on long enough to win."
"What a pity!"
At those words, Morgans shook his head.
"If the time had been longer, Thunder Spear might have been the first Magic Pattern Guild to lose."
Hearing this, Bashan, limping off the field, glared fiercely at Morgans in the distance.
How could this birdman speak like that?
If he didn't know how to talk, he should stay silent!
The dolls' power had clearly weakened, so even in a real fight, Bashan would never have given up.
How dare Morgans belittle them like this!
He vowed to deal with this birdman if he got the chance in the future!
Morgans didn't notice Bashan's glare or his scheming.
Even if he had, he felt no pressure.
He wasn't afraid of Bashan. He even dared to offend the Five Elders.
"So, the first match has ended. Now, let's welcome the second team." Morgans declared.
"The Twelve Magi of the Magic Pattern Guild." he announced.
On the stone wall, large characters appeared alongside the display.
In a passage, twelve people in varied outfits exchanged confused glances.
Finally, their eyes settled on the staff at the passage's edge.
After a moment, Morgans shouted again.
"Oh, oh, oh! What an astonishing surprise!" he exclaimed.
"Our No. 2 team has forfeited." he said with a smirk.
"They may have witnessed the terror of Thunder Spear's match."
Without further delay, he continued, "Let's move on to team number three."
On the other side, the Twelve Magi of the Magic Pattern Guild, hearing the broadcast, didn't make a fuss about their decision.
They all breathed a sigh of relief.
Their forfeiture stemmed from fear of the dolls' combat strength.
Thunder Spear, a renowned guild, had nearly been crushed.
For a makeshift guild like theirs, formed by freelance magic pattern users for the ceremony's rewards, taking such a risk was unwise.
For their own safety, they chose not to be reckless.
"Should we disband the guild?" one member asked after the forfeiture.
The Twelve Magi guild, despite its grand name, was a group of novices.
It was a temporary guild formed to chase the Demon Hunting Ceremony's rewards.
Only guilds could register, requiring at least ten C-level magic pattern users.
Thus, they gathered twelve, the maximum allowed, and registered the guild.
The name came from one member's admiration for the Twelve Holy Knights of the Kingdom of Miracles, adopting a similar format.
But a grand name didn't change their novice status.
"Wait a moment!" another member said.
"It's less than two weeks until next month."
"Then, the guild will have one extra quota to purchase Holy Light Potions compared to lone magic pattern users."
Hearing this, the others fell silent.
The Kingdom of Miracles sold Holy Light Potions.
A registered C-level lone magic pattern user could buy one monthly for one million Berries.
For a formal guild, the leader could purchase double the amount based on the number of C-level members, two potions per member.
Thus, many guilds didn't require each C-level member to buy their own.
Guilds often distributed one Holy Light Potion monthly as a benefit, with the second potion's use decided by the leader.
Under this system, these members, who hadn't joined guilds before, valued their freedom.
Joining large guilds might leave weaker magic pattern users overlooked.
In their guild, formed for profit, everyone was equal.
This month, the Twelve Magi's president bought two Holy Light Potions per member.
One extra potion was a rare treat.
For lone magic pattern users, buying Holy Light Potions on the black market was challenging.
It wasn't just about money.
Black market merchants with access to the potions often sold only to the famous or powerful to build connections.
Holy Light Potions were never short of buyers, giving sellers the luxury of choice.
This reality made them reluctant to disband the guild.
"Then let's wait!" the temporary president said.
"Let's form a team first and take commissions together."
"We'll see about the new Holy Light Potions next month after buying them."
Seeing the president's words, the others nodded in agreement.
While the Twelve Magi discussed, Morgans' voice continued to boom.
The reason was simple: starting with the Twelve Magi, guilds numbered three through twelve all forfeited.
They saw no hope of passing the test.
Fighting magic pattern battles was costly.
Potions, magic weapons, and post-battle repairs all required money.
Each fight, to mitigate magic power's toll on the body and prevent lifespan depletion or mutations, required a Holy Light Potion for recovery.
This was the approach of magic pattern users who valued their lives.
Those who didn't care fought recklessly, risking death.
The consequences were grim.
At best, their lifespan ran out, and they perished.
At worst, they mutated into strange demons, humanoid monsters with entirely negative personalities, far removed from their former selves.
Given this, magic pattern users calculated their battles carefully.
They rarely engaged in unprofitable fights.
Posadong, at the scene, was frustrated by this pragmatism.
Hundreds of magic pattern guilds had registered.
Each match lasted five minutes, and even with a break at night, it would take days to complete.
Despite the exhaustion, Posadong was eager for the task.
But these guilds were too cautious.
They gave up at the slightest difficulty.
Only by boldly challenging limits could one ignite the passion for life!
"Number 13." Morgans announced.
"Magic Pattern."
(End of this chapter)