Shocked and Excited Makley

Cain Wizard Tower, twenty-third floor.

This was Makley's private territory.

On ordinary days, this seventh-rank official wizard always maintained a suffocating dignity and coldness, like a marble statue devoid of emotion.

But at this moment, the statue had come to life—and was a little too animated.

He paced back and forth in the spacious, brightly lit laboratory, his steps hurried, his hands occasionally waving through the air.

His stern face was filled with a barely contained excitement, as if he had just discovered an unmined vein of rich magic crystals.

"Blessings from the great ancestor! I can't believe I've actually found a second peerless genius!"

Makley's gaze was locked onto a Mercury Mirror on the table, beside which lay a lion-head token identical to the one he had given Tylen.

This token was his proudest secret tool.

It was far more than just proof of identity.

It was an alchemical creation Makley had crafted using the Kane Family's secret arts, with high-level [Eagle Eye Spell] and [Soul Listening Art] permanently embedded within it.

As long as the holder carried it, Makley could use the token as a medium to see the surroundings in real time and hear every sound.

He had used this thing for seven or eight years, and even the shrewd seventh- and eighth-rank senior apprentices in the tower, or even some fellow official wizards, had never discovered the trick.

Relying on this method, he had seen through countless two-faced betrayals and dodged numerous schemes aimed at him, surviving to this day in this cannibalistic wizard tower.

So, Makley trusted everything shown in the mirror one hundred percent.

This was absolutely not an act.

This was the most genuine side of that youth named Tylen, revealed when he thought no one was watching!

From the moment Tylen took the token until now, an hour and a half had passed.

And in that short hour and a half, Makley's heartbeat had even surpassed the moment he was promoted to official wizard.

Makley was self-aware.

Though he carried the Kane Family blood, he knew his own talent—whether in logical thinking or memory—was far behind those true prodigies.

He had made it this far solely on the family's legacy and his own cautiousness.

But recently, the situation had changed.

The empire had suffered defeats in the astral plane war, dealing a massive blow to many planar resource territories.

The entire Wizard Alliance was tightening resources, and the tower's internal resource quotas had been drastically cut.

To optimize resource allocation, the upper echelons had launched a round of brutal internal reviews.

The mediocre were cast out; the capable rose up.

Someone like him, with average talent who had climbed solely on seniority, was the first to be sacrificed.

He didn't want to become a discard.

So he had called Violet Star back to bolster his image.

But relying solely on an academic-focused, arrogant Violet Star couldn't help him handle those complex interest entanglements.

He needed a second pillar.

A pillar who could handle the dirty, exhausting work and remain absolutely loyal.

And Tylen's appearance was like fate sending him a timely gift of coal in the snow!

The Mercury Mirror replayed the scenes from before, and Makley, still too excited, couldn't help consuming his mental energy to replay them.

He wanted to savor every detail of this precious apprentice and those excellent qualities that could make a man smile even in his sleep.

Makley watched as Tylen, alone in the basement, organized everything neatly and methodically, without a single complaint about the tasks assigned to him.

No greed for the cash, no dissatisfaction with himself.

He carefully stored the money and token close to his body.

"Not bad—his behavior alone is the same as in front of others!" Makley couldn't help commenting.

Then, Tylen drove across the bridge and arrived at Old Mine Street.

When he saw the empty little house, the anger that flickered in Tylen's eyes made Makley's heart stir.

"Anger means he has a conscience."

In this cold world, conscience was a rare commodity.

Makley had originally thought that faced with this situation, Tylen would immediately turn back and beg for his help, or use the token to throw his weight around.

But he didn't.

The youth drove on, charging without hesitation toward the Red Wine Gang's stronghold.

Then came the scene that even moved Makley: Tylen's conversation with the Old Jack Wraith.

"This kid didn't lie."

Makley watched as Tylen gently soothed the vengeful spirit, watching that mass of terrifying resentment dissipate under the youth's murmured words.

"He and that stablehand truly shared a deep bond."

"It's precisely because of that sincerity that he could calm the spirit of revenge."

What was even rarer came after.

Faced with two corpses that had lost all value, Tylen still kept his promise, carefully lifting them onto the cart, even willing to pay out of his own pocket to give them a dignified and peaceful burial.

"Excellent! Truly excellent!"

Makley's lips trembled with excitement.

"At this point in time, a quality like this is more precious than magic crystal diamonds!"

He had seen too many beasts who would stop at nothing to grow stronger.

Those people, for the sake of so-called truth, would betray their mentors without hesitation, kill their loved ones, or even refine their own flesh and blood into synthetic beasts.

People like that might become strong, but they were absolutely not trustworthy, let alone worth taking in as trusted subordinates.

Because you never knew when they'd stab you in the back.

But Tylen was different.

He had principles, valued his promises, and repaid kindness.

Someone like that—if you treated him well, he would become the sharpest sword and the sturdiest shield in your hands!

Yet the surprises didn't end there.

Just as Makley thought Tylen would know when to stop and quickly leave that place of trouble, he was astonished to find Tylen still sitting on the cart, unmoving.

"This kid... is he that bold? He's not leaving—does he want to provoke them here?"

Then came the moment that shocked him the most, the one that made him leap straight out of his chair.

Black Glass led his men back, swinging a fist at Tylen.

And Tylen, sitting there without moving a muscle, simply raised his hand.

Whoosh!

In that instant, the surge of magical power was precise, sharp, lethal.

Squelch!

An arm snapped, blood sprayed.

"This..."

Makley's eyes went wide, his beard practically curling upward with excitement.

"Magic! He actually knows magic!"

As an experienced mentor, his mind rapidly sifted through information, instantly connecting it to what Tylen had said over Old Jack's corpse—"Thank your son for the notes he left behind."

"I remember now! The stablehand's youngest son was an apprentice at the Blazing Sun Wizard Tower... this magic came from there!"

"Magic Thorn Art, a first-circle spell."

Makley made a quick professional judgment, but then his gaze grew even more fervent.

"No, it's not just Magic Thorn Art."

"If it were ordinary Magic Thorn Art, it would need to be attached to a regular object like a dagger or a longsword. But he... he attached it directly to his palm!"

"And on the hypothenar eminence at the edge of the palm! Extremely compressed, extremely stable!"

Makley spun around excitedly in the lab, pumping his fist:

"A variant application! This is a perfect variant application!"

"No wonder! No wonder he got so worked up this morning when I talked about runic resonance!"

"This kid... he actually learned on the fly and applied the 'frequency resonance' and 'three-dimensional weaving' theories from the rune class directly to improving the Magic Thorn Art!"

"Drawing inferences! Mastering through integration!"

"What is this? This is talent! This is combat instinct!"

Makley stared at the mirror image of that cold-faced youth shaking blood off his hand, his admiration nearly overflowing.

"Good kid! What an exceptionally good kid!"

The scenes that followed only pushed Makley's estimation of Tylen to its peak.

Facing Ars, a sixth-circle apprentice, Tylen showed not a trace of timidity.

He was composed, neither servile nor arrogant.

First, he intimidated with force, then tempted with rune technology, and finally applied pressure from a moral high ground.

With that combo, he not only defused the crisis but also casually struck a deal, leaving that Ars completely baffled.

"Brilliant."

Makley couldn't help but let out an admiring exclamation.

"No wonder he grew up scrabbling in the gutter. His grasp of human nature, his street-smart negotiation skills—it's practically a born gift!"

In the wizard trade, geniuses are plentiful, but most are freaks.

The most typical example was his proud disciple—Violet Star.

Violet Star's talent was indeed high, but her personality was too arrogant.

When she looked at people, she habitually lifted her chin and stared down her nose at them, as if speaking an extra word was a favor.

But even a Violet Star like that was considered normal among those geniuses.

She at least bothered to preen, to socialize, to talk properly with normal people.

Many geniuses couldn't even be bothered to communicate with normal folks—if words failed, they'd just throw hands!

Such disciples were good as figureheads, good for locking in the lab for research, good for sending out to exams to save face, but absolutely not suited for handling complex interpersonal affairs.

If Violet Star had been sent to deal with today's matter, she'd probably have blown everyone up with a giant fireball and stirred up a heap of unnecessary trouble.

But Tyron was different.

He was loyal enough, consistent inside and out, and handled things properly.

Not only did he have high emotional intelligence, but when he needed to be tough, he was as ruthless as a wolf; when he needed to yield, he was as smooth as water.

He advanced and retreated with measure, leaving no gaps.

"This is the man I've been looking for..."

Markley took a deep breath, calming his surging emotions.

He sat back down in his chair, watching Tyron driving the carriage away in the mirror, his gaze completely changed.

It was no longer the look for a nominal apprentice, but the look for a future core confidant.

"Tyron Arthas Magnus."

Markley muttered the name under his breath, a meaningful smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

"Once you deliver the scroll and pass the final trial..."

"I'll make sure you know that I, Markley Kane, never shortchange true loyalty!"

He reached out and gently stroked the Mercury Mirror, as if caressing an uncut, peerless gem.

"This faction purge... Hmph, who wins and who loses is still up in the air."

He paused, rubbed the Mercury Mirror, and smacked his lips.

"Not enough. Let me savor it once more."

Then, with great satisfaction, he began his second replay.