Grand Mage Cheng Ying was already over sixty. He had been fortunate enough to live through the glorious age of wizards in his youth. Though he had only caught its final days, he still reminisced about that era with relish even now.
Cheng Ying, with his gray beard, no longer held out hope for the rise of mages in this age ruled by knights. He was now an honorary Elder of the Royal Capital Mages' Alliance. Every day, he studied old magical documents, intending to spend the rest of his life in quiet peace.
Thus, Cheng Ying had no interest in Haideer's youthful games. Nor did he believe any of these children could earn his respect. Even among the various wealthy kings, not a single child was qualified to become his disciple.
Becoming Master Cheng Ying's disciple was also one of the goals pursued by many young mages in the royal capital.
With his indifferent attitude toward Haideer's younger generation, Cheng Ying raised his brows at Can Xiansuo, indicating that it was up to him.
Can Xiansuo shrugged helplessly. After all, Master Cheng Ying was more than ten years his senior, making him the "younger generation" responsible for handling this matter.
Though he was called part of the "younger generation," Can Xiansuo had also been a soldier for more than half a century and had weathered countless changes.
Generally speaking, soldiers in combat gear wore at least light armor. However, Can Xiansuo favored leather armor and did not even carry a buckler. His slender sword could swiftly knock aside any arrows fired at him, earning him the name "One-Handed Quickblade."
Can Xiansuo knew this was the end of the program and that he could not delay any longer.
When Can Xiansuo stepped out from the VIP stand, the entire venue