John thought Paluru might be missing Aurelion.
He looked at the distracted Fire Demon wearing an apron and holding a feather duster.
Come to think of it, Paluru had raised Aurelion.
Paluru always worked day and night, and nothing ever seemed capable of distracting him.
But ever since Aurelion had hatched, this ferocious Fire Demon had turned into a mother hen.
He not only prepared Aurelion's food but had even started reading books on early childhood education.
John found the sight of a demon reading such things thoroughly incongruous.
Still, there was no denying that Paluru had done many things John had never done.
When it came to looking after others, Paluru was better at it than the Wizard King.
At Silver Hand Manor in London.
John checked on the Dementors inside. The elves last time had given them a hearty feast, and now every one of them seemed quite lively.
Stirring a liquid that gave off a silvery-white glow in a cauldron, John chanted in a mysterious Ancient Language.
Three turns clockwise, then three turns counterclockwise.
Once the ripples settled, the batch of potion was complete.
John scooped up the potion with an exquisite silver spoon, then sealed it in separate batches and buried them in the garden soil.
After waiting three days, the potion in the soil could be dug up.
Twisted vines guarded against outsiders entering the garden, while the plants formed a green passage leading into its depths.
John opened the potion he had dug up and drank it in one gulp.
He carefully savored it.
"The Lionheart Emperor's sword crossed the bounds of the forbidden."
John touched his wound. The pain was still there.
The Lionheart Emperor truly was John at the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
He could break through the constraints of the rules with