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Chapter 116: Middle-Aged Wizard

Chapter 116: Middle-Aged Wizard
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Why was the second “fireball” released without the option to synergize it with the skill tree? While the attack was instantaneous, it could be devastating in a split-second shoot off against his opponent

It took a while for Abel to find another quill rat. This time, instead of activating the spell in his mind first, he decided to do it manually. The Horadric Cube didn’t react this time. It didn’t help him finish drawing the spell pattern, so it took him about 2 minutes to finish drawing up the whole spell.

“O the passionate elf of fire, please lend me your strength! O the element of fire, under the command of the elf, you shall become an indestructible ball of flame!”

With the same amount of power as the last one, the fireball burnt off half of the body of the quill rat. Needless to say, the preparation time required was drastically different. If Abel was fighting another version of himself, the outcome would be very obvious.

The instant ‘fireball’ spell could be fired four times in a row. Judging from how durable the quill rat was, Abel could certainly destroy an elite’s knight armor (combat qi included) within split seconds. If Abel’s total mana capacity increased, he could launch more ‘fireball,’ and his offensive ability would be double of where he was currently at.

Watching as the quill rat struggle with half of its body burnt off, Abel ended its life with another fireball. He felt kind of drained after doing this. He wasn’t exhausted physically, per se, but was mentally exhausted as he ran out of mana.

Abel returned to Rogue’s Encampment. He looked at the hourglass on the ground. He should be leaving now. As he opened up his Scroll of Town Portal, and an oval portal filled with ripples appeared in front of him. When he stepped inside the portal, he could feel his head spinning from top to bottom. It was a little different from last time, though.

During his stay in the Rogue’s Encampment this time, Abel’s spent about ten days in total. Since he was a 13-year-old boy, while he couldn’t feel his body growing up, he could feel something happening to his body while he was inside the portal. His frame (bones) was starting to shrink, and some life force was replenished while this was happening.

As Abel returned to his room in the mansion located at Triumph Boulevard, he could feel his body returning to the same state as when he had just left. So that’s what it was. All the height he’s grown during his stay at Rogue’s Encampment was now reverted.

Abel was an intermediate knight. That being said, he was very sensitive to all the changes that were happening to his body. During the ten days in Rogue’s Encampment, his body grew at a pace that was very hard for him to notice. However, as long as he went back to this world with the Scroll of Town Portal, his body would be the same as when he had just left.

The Rogue’s Encampment was a trial place between heaven and hell. It was under the direct influence of the Power of the Rule, which was not something that Abel could understand. It probably had the power to alter time. Maybe that was it.

“Wait, what about the progress I’ve made over these ten days?” Abel gasped. As soon as his finger extended in space, a ‘fireball’ pattern appeared.

A fireball appeared in his hand. He was inside his room, though. As Abel tried to resist the burning sensation, he kicked the window open and threw the fireball into the sky.

“Don’t throw your spells around, Child!”

Suddenly, a middle-aged man appeared in front of Abel. He was wearing a white robe that was laced with gold rims. As he scolded at Abel, he stretched out his hand and shot out a white halo from his hand. The halo hit the fireball that Abel shot, and the fireball exploded in midair before it shot to the ground like a meteorite.

Abel didn’t know how to react. Only Hoover, the head commander of knights, was capable of showing up in such a fashion. This middle-aged man must be at the same level as Hoover. He was definitely not a knight, though. He was probably a wizard, judging from the way mana was released from his body.

“With all due respect, what title should I refer to you as, sir?” Abel said, bowed. He wasn’t able to bow like a nobleman because of the armor he was wearing, but he still gave him a bow that belonged to the knights.

“Didn’t your mentor tell you not to use spells inside the city?” The man stared at Abel coldly.

With that stern look on the man’s face, a mighty pressure came pouring over Abel’s mind. Almost instinctively, the golden combat qi in his body surged across his body, and the first-level apprentice wizard magic pattern glowed inside his mind. Something was telling him not to reserve any strength.

The wizard realized how frightening he was being, and decided to ease down the aura he was releasing. To his surprise, the young man in front of him could still stand on both of his legs.

As the middle-aged wizard was easing the pressure on him, Abel let a long sigh of relief. Because of how exhausted he was becoming, all his muscles were tensing up, and his back was completely drenched in cold sweat.

“I don’t have a teacher, Sir,” Abel replied, meanwhile trying to suppress the headache he was having from a lack of mana.

“Who taught you how to cast spells, then?” the middle-aged wizard asked with a slightly surprised tone.

Because of how muscular Abel was, most people would think that he was at least fifteen years old. His appearance was not relevant to the middle-aged wizard, though. From observing Abel’s life force, he could tell that the boy was only around thirteen years of age. If Abel didn’t have a good teacher, it would be impossible for him to cast any spells.

“I am a sorcerer’s apprentice of Sam’s fifth-level apprentice at the Yveline’s Magic Tower, Sir” Abel explained.

Of course, the man knew what a sorcerer’s apprentice was. As long as Abel was called by this title in the magic tower, he was nothing more than a servant of a wizard’s student.

“Oh, didn’t Sam tell you not to use spells in the city?”

After hearing that Abel didn’t have a teacher and that he was helping out his old friend’s fourth disciple, the middle-aged wizard softened his voice for a bit.

“I’m sorry, Sir. This is completely my fault. It has nothing to do with Sam.” Abel quickly explained, “Please, I assure you, he has nothing to do with this. I learned how to cast “fireball” just then, so he knows nothing about it.”

Seeing how hard Abel was trying to put the blame to himself, the middle-aged wizard changed his impression of this young boy. Not only was Abel polite and educated, but he was also a responsible boy who was willing to carry his own faults.

“How long have you been studying magic, young man?” The middle-aged wizard asked softly.

“Three days!” Abel replied, but changed his tone after looking at the Sun for a bit, “Four days, I meant!”

“Four days?” the middle-aged wizard frowned. If Abel had spent just four days learning how to cast “fireball,” he would be an absolute genius. If what he was claiming was true, how was he a sorcerer’s apprentice at the Yvelines magic tower?

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