It's Not That I Don't Trust You, It's That I Look Down on You

"Say something. Do you really not feel like you're about to age overnight?"

"Noah, why would I feel that way? I'm fine, really fine. I don't feel anything at all right now. Please, let's talk about magic instead."

Standing in Karazhan's already dilapidated Library, Khadgar spoke to Noah with a helpless expression. This was nearly the two-hundredth time he had faced this question in recent days.

Even now, Khadgar had no idea why Noah, this mysterious mage, kept fixating on this question.

At first, Khadgar had been rather worried. But after sensing himself for quite some time, he seemed to find no signs of inexplicably aging, which made him think this mysterious mage Noah was simply messing with him.

They were currently in Karazhan. Perhaps because Khadgar and the others had killed Medivh and unleashed a powerful burst of fel energy, the area around Karazhan had now completely taken on the appearance Noah remembered.

To put it more poetically: from that day onward, a terrifying curse had descended upon the tower and the surrounding lands. A dim black curtain had fallen over Deadwind Pass, while a forest to the west had also been affected, becoming the Duskwood of today.

The surrounding environment had changed completely, and no matter how one looked at it, it gave off a very unpleasant feeling.

Changes seemed to have occurred within Karazhan as well. This magical tower had the ability to gather magical power. Now that the magic pool and Medivh were both gone, that power had become ownerless.

It was not serious yet, but Noah knew that as time passed, the power would accumulate more and more. In the end, it might become food for magical creatures, and Karazhan would eventually turn into a "dungeon."

Of course, none of that had much to do