The soft glow of the magical crystal chandelier bathed the small room in a gentle light. Ronan and the others were seated around a long table adorned with decorative candles and flowers, along with a variety of beautifully presented dishes.
As everyone enjoyed the rare feast, they listened to Wizard Barry, who, with a glass of wine held high and a flushed face, spoke animatedly.
"…He said, Sean, if your talent in wizardry matched even half of your aptitude in potion-making—no, even a quarter!—you wouldn't just be a mere Level 2 apprentice now."
"His exact words! I heard every single word clearly!" Barry downed his wine in one go, his face beaming with pride and joy that seemed to spill over.
"Sean, my dear son, I'm so proud of you. I always knew you'd one day shine brightly in potion-making..."
Barry, clearly tipsy, planted a kiss on Sean's forehead, while Sean, trapped in his embrace, showed a blend of embarrassment and awkwardness.
Ronan sat opposite Barry, with Jacob on his left and Sherrill on his right.
He slowly savored a piece of roasted lamb, feeling a mix of emotions.
No wonder Barry, usually so worldly, was in such high spirits; Sean's story was indeed quite legendary.
The gist of it was that Barry, using his uncle's connections, had found Sean a position as an apprentice potioneer at a potion shop in the Dwarf Market.
One day, out of curiosity, the shop's head potioneer and formal wizard noticed Sean experimenting with peculiar concoctions like "sleep potions" and found them fascinating.
After testing Sean, the master was so impressed with his talent in potion-making that he took Sean on as a disciple right then and there.
"I spent less than six months going from a complete novice in runes to an adept capable of engraving mid-tier zero-order runes and almost mastering high-tier zero-order runes... Why haven't any rune masters taken notice of me?" Ronan thought, a bit enviously, as he chewed his lamb.
If he felt that way, he could only imagine how the others felt.
The dinner had taken a turn; everyone wore forced smiles, with Barry being the only genuinely happy one.
At the far end of the table, the one-armed Jolin was drinking heavily, pushing away his wife's attempts to stop him.
Everyone ate in silence, except for Wizard Barry, who wouldn't stop talking.
"That master wants to take us away, away from this chaotic and miserable place."
"This is the best news since winter began. I've had enough of living under others' roofs. Poor Sean, a future genius potioneer, has to endure this with me."
As Barry continued to rant about his peculiar and rigid wizard uncle, a loud commotion erupted outside, as if something had suddenly caused an uproar.
Everyone turned toward the door in surprise, and the ever-alert Jacob quickly stood and rushed outside.
Moments later, Jacob returned with a look on his face that was hard to decipher—was it tension or something else?
"The Hoddam Wizard Academy just made an announcement. Starting today, they are officially..."
Jacob paused before continuing, "...initiating a draft of all wandering gray-robed wizards."
Ronan stood at the entrance of the tavern, watching Sean, who was blushing slightly, talking nervously with Vinicia not far away.
"Sean likes Vinicia and wants to take her with him," Old Wills quietly remarked, coming to stand beside Ronan.
"Do you think she'll go with him?" Ronan asked.
Old Wills glanced at him but said nothing.
By then, Sean's conversation with Vinicia had ended, and he walked away, visibly disappointed.
Barry, drunkenly, wrapped an arm around Sean's shoulder, dismissively consoling him, "It's no big deal, Sean. Women like her are everywhere. She's not even pretty, not worthy of you at all. Besides, she might come crawling back, tail between her legs, by morning..."
"What did you just say?"
Ronan stepped in front of Barry and Sean, his expression blank as he stared at Barry. "Say that again."
"Lord... Lord Ronan!" Barry's drunkenness vanished instantly as he seemed to remember how Ronan had led them out of the forest alive.
That indescribable, twisting torrent, the advanced apprentice black-robed wizard who had shattered like dust...
"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"
Barry lowered his head and hurried away with Sean.
"He wasn't always like this," Old Wills commented, watching them leave with a complex expression. "Or perhaps I never truly knew him."
Ronan shook his head, signaling the end of that topic.
A drunken Jolin was vomiting by the roadside, waving his one arm wildly and shouting, while his wife stood helplessly beside him.
Finally, with Vinicia and Sherrill's help, they managed to get him on his way home.
Ronan and Old Wills walked slowly in the opposite direction along the long street.
Though it was late at night, the wizard town's streets and alleys were bustling.
Wizards with lanterns and torches hurried past them.
It felt like the day when the black robes first invaded.
"Did you notice?"
After a stretch of silence, Old Wills suddenly spoke.
Ronan's eyes reflected the distant torchlight as he nodded slightly.
The chief potioneer at the Dwarf Market was eager to leave with people, and the academy was initiating a draft of all wandering wizards.
These signs indicated that the Hoddam Wizard Academy was struggling against the black wizard forces of the Forest of Whispered Death.
"It was the same back then..."
Old Wills sighed. "The real bloodshed begins now."
"Leaving Hoddam is the best choice now."
Ronan mused to himself, "Maybe you could try convincing Vinicia."
Sean was clearly infatuated.
Even if Vinicia didn't like him, she could use the opportunity to leave with him and then figure out a way to ditch him once they were out of Hoddam.
Ronan felt a bit bad for thinking this way, but after tonight's dinner, he had mentally classified Barry and his son as outsiders.
And there's no need to sympathize with outsiders.
Old Wills didn't respond to Ronan's suggestion.
"There might be another way."
Old Wills stopped and looked at Ronan, taking a deep breath before saying, "Ronan, I need your help."
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