"...All right."
Ian's ears twitched slightly. He turned his head and looked at Hilliard's deliberately mysterious expression, unable to figure out what surprise his teacher had in store that he was being so secretive about.
With doubt and anticipation in his heart, he returned to his room—and saw a stack of black fabric on his bed.
A black shirt.
"This is..."
Somewhat surprised, Ian stepped forward, picked it up, and examined it. "You made this for me?"
The black shirt was not entirely new. It had been repaired from Ian's previous outfit, which had suffered quite a bit of damage, with many materials and leathers he could not identify added to it.
But honestly, this so-called repair was little different from making an entirely new set. Nearly all the critical sections, damaged areas, and seams had been stitched with brand-new leather.
Though it looked patched together, no different from the mended clothes ordinary children wore, it felt incredibly tough. Ian felt that even with a knife, he would be unable to slash or stab through it.
Yet it was also extremely light, as soft and gentle as cashmere.
"This is material from Teacher's cloak?!"
Ian had an excellent memory. Within seconds, he recalled where he had seen this kind of leather before—it was the black cloak Hilliard had worn when they first met... Yes, ever since Hilliard had disguised himself as Osena, Ian had never seen him wear it again.
He had not expected Hilliard to cut it apart and use the material to mend Ian's clothes...
His expression shifted slightly as Ian silently gazed at the black shirt in his hands.
The shirt was a little large, even somewhat loose when worn. This was not because Hilliard's craftsmanship was poor, but because when Osena had given Ian clothes back