"Yes, are these three manuscripts enough to cover my tuition?" Luciana said happily. When Madigan was executed by the Inquisition, most of his works were either burned or scattered among the people. The Inquisition regarded him as a remnant of his vengeance, and if anyone was found to be in possession of Madigan's works, he could only spend the rest of his life in prison. But in the eyes of non-Saarionean collectors, items marked with the Madigan mark are priceless, and the Fields Chamber of Commerce once sold a knight's draft for what appears to be an authentic Madigan at the auction house in Yanvikshuo for a whopping 200,000 dinars. But this so-called authenticity, in the eyes of Brochette – or in the eyes of all the historians of the Royal Academy – has no collection value. In the first half of his life, Madigan was nothing more than a sloppy bard, and he made a name for himself by writing knights. However, in the second half of his short life, he wrote the "Long Prophetic Poem", arrogantly claiming that someone would shake the throne of the monarch and reunite the warring Pande into an empire of unprecedented strength. Ma Digan was brilliant because of the "Long Prophetic Poem", and also fell because of the "Long Prophetic Poem", like a meteor passing through the sky, although only for a short moment, but the glorious trajectory has been engraved forever in the eyes of the observer.

The Wang Academy is Madigan's most faithful observer. As early as when Madigan was hunted down by the Inquisition and went into exile, the abbot of that term began to consciously organize a series of propaganda speeches made by Madigan around the "Prophetic Long Poem". However, Poynbru's geographical location makes the manpower and material resources he can use extremely limited - resisting the invasion of the Misty Mountain tribes will always be the main theme of Boinbru, even if he can directly mobilize the dean of the Royal Academy of the Black Spear Knights, he will not dare to put the entire city at risk of falling for a few noises. So today, the number of collections related to Madigan in the Royal Academy is extremely limited, and the most valuable ones are only a few speeches that were rescued by a Livingston spy with a background in the Royal Academy during the fire, and the most serious ones were burned and only fragments of text remained. Despite this, the whole Wang Academy still regarded these speeches hovering on the edge of waste paper as heirlooms.

However, Luciana casually handed Madigan the original handwriting in front of Brochette, and it was not a nourishing manuscript, or a scrap of paper that had preserved a few words, but the entire "Prophetic Long Poem" that he had written by hand! Brochette heard his old heart beating violently, spreading the blood burned by lust to all parts of his body. He turned around and glanced at Quegfin's envelope on the desk, the corners of someone's mouth that looked like a mockery, "How did you get it?" ”

"I bought it from a merchant in Sarion," Luciana recalled, tilting her head, "for about fifty thousand dinars." ”

"Fifty thousand ......" Brochette was dizzy, and Kuigfen's words echoed in his mind: "Don't say it's 700,000 dinars, even if you transfer the land of the Royal Academy to me, and let the Black Spear Knights be loyal to me, you won't be able to take these three manuscripts!" ”

"And what do you want?" Brochette gritted his teeth and said, "Eight hundred thousand dinars, this is the limit of the Royal Academy!" ”

"The allegiance of the Black Spear Knights, why shouldn't it be 800,000?" Quegphin smiled mysteriously, his beard cocked vividly, "Don't waste my good tea here, I've already secured a buyer for the manuscript - don't be angry, sooner or later you'll get them, I guarantee you won't even have to spend a penny." But whether you dare to take it at that time is another matter. Alice, send-off. ”

This old profiteer, his calculations are getting more and more far-reaching, could it be that Luciana ran away from home and traveled thousands of miles to the royal academy was also facilitated by him? Brochette thought through gritted teeth. Luciana's identity is too sensitive, and he is not very happy to admit her to the Royal Academy, once her identity is revealed, not to mention how the Archon Justus in the far south will react, just the large number of ill-intentioned wild bees and butterflies in the north are enough for the Royal Academy - Livingston's relationship with the Empire is still warming, and I don't know how many people are waiting for a transnational marriage that can shake the pattern of the continent. Luciana appeared in Poimpur at this time, as an ownerless flower that had escaped from the greenhouse, and the threshold of the Royal Academy would sooner or later be flattened by ambitious suitors.

But he could not afford to miss the only opportunity to include the Madigan manuscript in the collection of the Royal Academy. Brochette clenched his beard tightly and unconsciously twisted it up with the back of his hand—a sign of extreme gaffe, the last time he had done so was when Quegfin had told him that there was another buyer for the Madigan manuscript.

"Mr. Brochette, you don't need to be so entangled." Luciana said seriously, "I came to the Royal College only because it is a sacred place for academic exchange. I'm a pure student here, not the daughter of an archon. If you don't say it, I don't say it," she said, glancing at Estheau, "and if he doesn't say it, who will know who I am?" ”

"Who is this?" Brochette finally noticed Estheu standing beside Luciana. The young man's standard Noldor language had a strong impression on him at first, but then his attention was completely diverted by Luciana and Madigan's manuscripts, "What do you call it?" ”

"I'm—" As soon as Eshu spoke, Luciana slapped him on the back coldly, "Primarie, this is the disciple of the demigod 'Noisy' Alaric, the death row prisoner who made a big fuss about the Imperial Annual Festival, and the madman who assassinated Ned Grace; Of course," she smiled slyly, and before Esthew could react, she scurried away like a fawn, hid behind Brochette, poked out half her head, and grimaced at Estheu, word by word:

"Or the protagonist of "The Long Poem of Prophecy"!"