Izpalut's fingers were twined with a few symbols as he finished up on a sheet of paper, still wanting more.
He looked at Rona again, his tone carrying a faint smile. "There's no need anymore."
Rona froze for a moment, then frowned and said, "No need? What does that mean? Guest, are you playing me?"
After being delayed for two hours, only to hear a sentence like this afterward.
It was hard for Rona not to feel displeased.
And faced with Rona's questioning, Izpalut merely withdrew all the Arcane Magic he had listed out, along with one sheet after another of star-blue draft paper, back into his own body.
With an elegant bearing, he replied calmly, "It is already enough. The reshaping of the root—I have already found the answer."
Rona's pupils constricted slightly.
Rona understood the answer Izpalut gave, yet also did not understand it.
She had originally thought Izpalut would need a very long time to find a method to reshape the root—one year, ten years, even several hundred years were all possible.
Rona also did not know exactly how far Izpalut's talent went, but mages truly did differ greatly from one individual to another.
The span between several years and several hundred years was no exaggeration at all.
Even if he was terrifyingly talented, he should still have had to spend at least several months to solve this problem.
After all, this was the root, but these short two hours.
For a mortal's noon break, that was only enough time for a nap.
Yet he was telling me he had already found the answer to reshaping the root?
Izpalut said calmly and blandly, "Regarding the answer to the root, in truth, before I became the Magic God, I had already thought about it a great deal. Now