"A forbidden spell? Hahaha, a forbidden spell?" Morgan Jones sneered, his slender frame trembling with disdain. "Dare you think that with tattered taste and no muscle polishing, you can even dream of being a Forbidden Spell Mage? Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."
Morgan's sizzling sharp tongue resonated across that grand courtyard of the Jones family estate. His cold mold of judgment rested on Marissa Jones, his daughter. It was this fiery defiance that had sparked this argument.
The pulse of veins in his two hands throbbed visibly with building frustration.
"Do you understand how scarce Forbidden Spell Mages are?" Morgan continued penetratingly.
"There are just a few hundred in that world! And you thought you would be one? Preposterous."
Marissa didn't tremble. Her crimson eyes glowed with an unwavering confidence, the voice of unwritten resolve. "If that's what has to happen, I'll prove it, she stated with absolute certainty."
