As the voice appeared, everyone looked over. Vern, who was sitting on the Magical Beast, did the same. In a huge and exquisite treehouse not far away, a young boy not more than twelve years of age donned in a purple magic robe was standing at the door. Under the moonlight, Vern raised the torch in his hand and chuckled.
"Oh, so it's just a half-baked mage apprentice?" He turned his head and asked Wenda. "I thought you didn't welcome us here, why is there a human mage apprentice living in your treehouse? Are you looking down on me?"
"That's our distinguished guest, what right do you have to compete with him?!" Wenda instantly retaliated to Vern's insult.
"Yeah! Who are you and why do we need to care?" It was as if Vern's words had provoked the boiling point of the elves and everyone began to berate him. However, their words didn't make Vern waver at all and it was only making the already arrogant and despotic Vern feel a sense of ferocity in his heart.
