Returning to One's True Nature

Time passed second by second.

Pushton showed no intention of coming out anytime soon.

Yet the many Wizard Sages outside showed not the slightest impatience.

One by one, they continued to wait patiently.

The gap in power forced them to face the difference in status.

The sun set, the moon rose, and then the sun rose again.

At last, a wizard clad in a gray robe slowly emerged from the wizard tower.

He looked like nothing more than an unsuccessful elderly wizard apprentice.

A gray robe and a simple wooden staff.

There was not a single ornament on him, not even an ordinary rune.

The moment this old wizard appeared, every Wizard Sage bowed and greeted him. "Tower Master!"

Pushton's gaze swept gently over the crowd as he said lightly, "Not bad. All good children."

After leaving those words behind, he held his wooden staff in one hand and walked straight ahead.

The Wizard Sages all followed behind him in silence.

Pushton had not returned to Isata for several centuries, but Isata was not all that different from what it had been centuries ago.

He walked slowly, observing everything he passed. Sometimes his gaze lingered on certain wizards, but it soon moved away again.

Their youthful appearances and lives seemed to stir his memories.

Pushton descended step by step, the Sages following behind him. Some Third Ring wizards stared at the scene in stunned disbelief.

They naturally did not recognize Pushton, but they recognized the Wizard Sages following behind him.

And the ones they recognized were the few Wizard Sages at the rear of the group.

As for the Wizard Sages at the front, they did not recognize a single one.

Seeing this sight, the two Third Ring wizards hurriedly bent at the waist, not daring to make a sound.