Mage Manual

Chapter 153: Chapter 140 Freyja

Freyja burped as she drunkenly steadied herself on the railing and walked up the stairs. As a Meiwa, her resistances were high; usually, it was tough for her to get drunk—her body naturally adapts to her moods, drinking alcohol like water when she’s upset, stumbling drunk at the scent of booze when happy.

“Hey, I’ve ordered every clay worker at ‘Frost Fall Mud Cafe’ at least once, should probably find a new mud cafe… Adela mentioned a new Deacon-themed mud cafe near the university’s west gate, I’ll check it out when I get my scholarship… But the ab muscles on that ‘Fish Dragon’ are truly amazing, it wouldn’t hurt to order him again…”

“It’s a pity about the ‘Rock Dragon’, he was quite skilled, but died in the 422 incident…”

Reaching the third floor, the corridor lights flickered as Freyja fumbled for her keys, unfazed. The building was an old apartment built seventy years ago, lacking automatic elevators, floor heating, air conditioning, and even facing frequent electrical aging—its only advantage was cheap rent. If it weren’t for the landlord still being alive, it would’ve been razed and rebuilt long ago.

But that would happen soon; the apartment’s landlord, a Beastman over sixty, would sell his properties in a few years to get an “anti-aging surgery” at the institute. This surgery was much cheaper than life-extension surgery and was particularly popular among lower-class Mages and mortals.

Once the institute acquired the building, they would naturally co-develop it with real estate developers to erect a taller, prettier apartment complex, just like the two new ones being constructed by the west gate. None of that mattered to Freyja, though, as she would have graduated and moved out by then.

Opening her door, Freyja found the lights on at home and wondered—had she forgotten to turn them off before class?

After kicking off her boots and slipping into slippers at the entrance, she saw a man in a hood sitting at her desk, using her ‘Mist Sea’ branded “Knowledge Veil,” sipping the strong Beastman sweet milk from her fridge, clattering away on a Cherry milo keyboard.

Her Scottish Fold cat, Xiaoxian, was sprawled on the desk, stretching lazily, then affectionately rubbing against the man’s hand.

The standard one-bedroom layout unfolded before her eyes from the entrance—desk, bed, balcony, bathroom, and small kitchen.

Noticing the stir, the man turned to Freyja.

“Welcome back.”

“Oh, I’m back.”

The man continued browsing the Light Screen as Freyja scratched her head and grabbed a bottle of ice water from the fridge, gulping it down before a sudden sourness in her stomach had her rushing to the bathroom to vomit a rainbow into the toilet.

Vomiting, someone gently patted her back, making her feel slightly better. As three stacked tissues reached her mouth, Freyja subconsciously took them and said, “Thanks.”

After throwing up, Freyja felt much more sober. She came out, threw all her clothes onto a chair—the chair everyone has for dirty clothes—and then turned to go shower.

As the warm water rinsed over her, Freyja regained her clarity. Leaning against the wall, chin in hand, she felt something was off but couldn’t pinpoint what.

Suddenly, something clicked, and she clapped her hands.

“I only went to the mud cafe twice tonight; I usually go three times. Tonight was a loss!” She clicked her tongue. “Even though the clay worker tonight wasn’t great, I did pay, and I should’ve enjoyed it fully, even if tearfully!”

After her shower, as she meticulously dried her body—especially underarms, beneath her bosom, and inner thighs—the process of drying felt especially refreshing.

Inspecting the white fuzz on her forearms and legs, she figured it was time for a trim. Being a Meiwa was troublesome this way; regular trimming of limb fuzz was needed to avoid excessive sweating.

Freyja walked out naked, the curtain over her balcony drawn. It was generally unlikely for anyone to visit, and more importantly, the weather was warming up. Moreover, Meiwas were prone to sweating—which, though fragrant with Charm, was sticky. Maintaining a natural state was the most comfortable.

Jumping onto her bed, she rolled around twice and called out. Xiaoxian bounced over from the man to curl up in Freyja’s arms.

Snuggling next to her Meteor Dragon pillow, she pet Xiaoxian while booting up the Light Screen to browse the school forum on the Veil.

She noticed everyone discussing tonight’s Blood Moon Judgement—topics like “Fernand,” “social welfare systems,” and “future eligibility for municipal exams” confused her. During the start of tonight’s Blood Moon Judgement, she was still drinking at the mud cafe.

Opening the psychic studies group, discussions on the Blood Moon Judgement continued, polarized into “Blood Moon faction” and “Fernand faction.” They debated over three hundred rounds, with an overwhelming 999+ message thread. She couldn’t scroll to the start but caught them arguing over “the necessity of the existence of the Blood Moon clans.”

One side argued, “The Blood Moon clans are the cornerstone of societal development; their long, stable lives ensure societal stability, and only they, unconcerned with short-term gains, could develop various Mage technologies.”

The other countered, “Blood Moon clans limit the development of multi-racial alliances,” blaming them for hoarding high-quality talents, thus preventing other races from producing great scholars and mages. The glory of the Blood Moon clans was built on draining other races dry.”

Isn’t this a debate beyond our student capabilities?