Quick Transmigration: The Journey of Meat Eating C87

Hey, first of all, thanks for reading my lousy Machine Translation. To be honest, I’d really like it if you guys corrected the mistakes I made. But please speak nicely and politely. My heart is not strong enough to read your too-harsh comments. Have a nice day.

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Chapter 87

Western Fantasy: The Temple Knight

The clock on the wall struck six times in a row, and a strangely shaped alchemical doll suddenly jumped out of the closet, shouting in a shrill voice, “It’s time to leave work! It’s time to leave work!”

A head slowly emerged from the messy desk. The head was dishevelled, with thick, long black hair resembling a clump of seaweed. Right in the centre of this seaweed, a quill pen was crookedly stuck. The head’s owner pulled out the quill pen and pushed up her round-framed glasses that had slipped down to her nose. Beneath her small, delicate nose were petal-like pink lips and a soft chin, but apart from this small glimpse, most of her face was hidden beneath thick bangs.

She reached up and tugged at her wrinkled mage’s robe, pulled up the oversized hood, picked up the massive tome that almost completely obscured her, and floated out of the office like a ghost.

The corridor was bustling with activity. Students poured out of the classrooms, all dressed in black mage’s robes, with the school emblem—a long staff piercing a red sun—attached to their collars. This was typical attire for students of the Valantis Magic Academy. As one of the continent’s premier magic schools, Valantis boasted first-rate faculty; those who taught there were all highly skilled mages.

Margaret Erenwood, who became an associate professor of runes at the age of eighteen, was a rare magical genius even on the entire continent. Strangely, when this genius professor walked down the corridor, the students not only didn’t greet her respectfully, but instead avoided her as if she were a monster. Ye Xuan, however, didn’t notice any of this. She was focused intently on the ground beneath her feet, concentrating only on keeping the heavy magic books from falling from her arms.

“Once we reach the courtyard, things will be fine,” she silently encouraged herself, so she could use a levitation charm to bring the books back. Ten books, each over six hundred pages thick, were all the materials Margaret would be researching that evening. Talent was one factor, but Margaret’s passion and hard work in rune research were also key to her current achievements. Unfortunately, her theoretical knowledge was unparalleled on the continent, but that couldn’t change the fact that she was utterly useless in practical combat.

When Ye Xuan first transmigrated into the body of this young mage, she was quite excited. Magic! Magic that could fly, dive, slay monsters, and even dragons! But soon, she discovered that the mage Margaret was incapable of fighting monsters; she could even cast a basic fireball spell haphazardly. Even in her classes—yes, rune classes, though primarily focused on textbook knowledge —occasionally required practical application—she would still cause accidents while demonstrating for her students.

This is why the students are all afraid of this professor—who knows if she might suddenly explode? Of course, Margaret’s drab grey robes and her perpetually sunless face are also reasons for her unpopularity.

Generally speaking, people dressed like this tend to have eccentric temperaments, and Margaret unfortunately proved this to be true. As a child, she was a withdrawn, timid girl, brilliant but sensitive and gloomy. She couldn’t communicate with others, spending her days eating, sleeping, and researching magic. Even now, in her prime, no one would bother to examine what her face looked like beneath her bangs.

Of course, Margaret didn’t care. Even though she was actually a great beauty, she was too lazy to bother with her appearance. The only thing she valued, even obsessed over, was magical research. No, there was something else. To be precise, it was a person.

Stepping out of the school gates, Ye Xuan—we should call her Margaret now—saw the magnificent carriage parked by the roadside as usual. The carriage was trimmed with gold paint and carved with a roaring lion in red and gold—the coat of arms of the Farman family. On the continent, almost everyone recognised this lion representing the noble Farman clan.

Under the envious gazes of passersby, Margaret boarded the carriage.

Valantis Magic Academy was located in the north of Damon City, while the carriage’s destination was in the south. Passing through bustling streets, the closer they got to the south, the fewer pedestrians and carriages there were. Because the south of the city was an aristocratic district, only the upper class could reside there. The Farman family owned the largest plot of land in the south, where a series of ancient yet elegant houses stood, their gates protected by magical barriers that kept all curious gazes at bay. This luxurious residence was merely a villa for the Farman family in Damon City.

At this moment, the carriage stopped in front of the mansion. Margaret let out a long sigh, subconsciously tugging at her robe again. Unfortunately, no matter how she tried to fix it, the grey robe, stained with potions and ink year-round, remained slovenly and ugly, utterly out of place in the tidy and opulent mansion.

Not only were her clothes completely out of place in this mansion, but Margaret herself was completely out of place in this mansion. The gardener moving about in the yard, the butler and maid standing at the gate to greet her, even the coachman—they were from a completely different world from her. Their faces wore obsequious smiles, but Margaret knew their obedience stemmed solely from the title she held.

“Madam,” Mr Carson, the butler, bowed gracefully to Margaret, “Welcome home.”