The Reclusive Mage

"You planned to see whether you could follow 'its' guidance to explore a ruin that wasn't too lethally dangerous and acquire some knowledge? And the result...?"

Punk asked Azterlan expressionlessly.

"Yes. I chose to heed that 'intuition' which had clearly been influenced by 'it' and came here. Then, I truly did obtain quite a bit of knowledge. I even gained the opportunity to study Magic Lock, something countless Legendary Mages dreamed of. But the price was that I became trapped in this cage full of knowledge and could no longer leave..."

Azterlan smiled helplessly, and a trace of complicated emotion appeared in his eyes. His conversation with Punk seemed to have reminded him of his overconfident self from two hundred thousand years ago.

However, after quickly composing himself, the White-robed Mage continued introducing the "main topic" he had originally wished to emphasize.

"Sigh, although I am a spellcaster specializing in Enchantment School spells and summoning spells, with the patchwork Enchantment studies knowledge I picked up here and there, there was no way I could understand this utterly unbelievable Magic Lock in a short time. So I ended up trapped here for a full two hundred thousand years... You should know that this year, I am only two hundred and eighty-six thousand, seven hundred and twenty-five years old. Before I knew it... I had spent more than twice as long in these ruins as I had in my entire earlier life."

Azterlan described his "experience" in an indifferent tone, his voice remaining calm. Even when they passed through an area thick with mist, this "noble mage," who observed the scenery like a bard, drew a thread of magical power through the rainforest's emerald leaves and controlled the mist, dispersing it somewhat.

Judging by Azterlan's skillful and effortless control, he seemed to