Warlock Apprentice

After the Tree Spirit left, Angel once again used the illusion technique to conceal the lush tree, then pushed open the door to the ruins and walked inside.

Looking at the pitch-black corridor ahead, Angel showed a contemplative expression.

He didn’t know why, but he always felt as if he had forgotten something? Was it an illusion, or did he actually overlook something?

As Angel pondered, he walked into the dark corridor.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the narrow, dark space, creating the illusion of multiple people walking together.

However, Angel did not care about the somewhat unsettling echo but continuously muttered, ”What did I forget?”

As Angel repeatedly murmured, suddenly there appeared a pair of iron boots in front of him.

Angel lifted his head, looking at the owner of the iron boots—a knight’s armor deliberately arranged in human form.

Seeing this knight’s armor, Angel’s right eye twitched: He remembered what he had forgotten, he forgot to ask the Tree Spirit about this knight’s armor!

This knight’s armor itself was not problematic, but the armor had residual magical patterns... these patterns were even used for alchemy.

These patterns were indeed worth asking the Tree Spirit about.

”Alchemy magic patterns?” Angel pondered for a while: ”Could it be that this knight’s armor was left by the first owner of the ruins?”

After all, alchemy magic patterns aren’t something ordinary Magic Rune Mages know. Tizarro is also not an alchemist, it is very likely left by the creator of the ruins.

”Should I go back and ask the Tree Spirit now?” Angel thought for a moment, but finally shook his head.

It’s nothing important, just a small matter, it seems a bit excessive to continuously bother the Tree Spirit.

Moreover, since this knight was placed in such a conspicuous position, the Tree Spirit should be aware of it too. Without special mention, there probably isn’t any problem.

Angel decided to set it aside for now, planning to inquire next time he sees the Tree Spirit.

Although there was nothing wrong with the knight’s armor, the residual magical patterns on it were a bit strange.

Angel thought for a moment, gently curled his fingers, and a Hand of Magic Power formed of faint smoky blue appeared in front of him.

He intended to take this knight’s armor back to the study, to thoroughly research the residual magical patterns on it.

He always felt that these magical patterns might hide some secrets.

Perhaps these secrets have not even been discovered by Lord Reine and others who previously inspected the ruins, because after all, these are residual patterns, and the Barbarian Cave had been without an alchemist for a long time, it is quite normal for them to not have noticed.

Using the Hand of Magic to lift the knight’s armor, Angel walked deeper in, soon disappearing from the dark corridor...

...

The study on the negative second layer, empty and quiet.

Angel presented the knight’s armor in human form again, standing it aside.

However, he did not immediately research the residual magical patterns on the armor, nor was he prepared to immediately search for the so-called hidden room; instead, he planned to continue self-reflection, leaving other matters for later leisure.

After so many years, if there really was a hidden room, it wouldn’t make a difference whether it was discovered sooner or later.

With this in mind, Angel decided not to focus on external matters but picked up the handbook, slowly sinking into the research of the green patterns.

Time flew by.

When the pendulum in the clock began to sway, making a ”dong dong” sound, Angel returned from his engrossed state.

Angel glanced at the time, fifteen hours had passed, having reached nine o’clock at night.

Putting down the pen in his hand, Angel stretched, found a comfortable position, and quietly leaned on the chair.

He planned to enter the Wilderness of Dreams.

As drowsiness pulled him into the sweet vortex of sleep, he suddenly remembered Tizarro’s complaint on the study room sign: ”I don’t need a bedroom, but I want a study where no one can disturb me.”

Angel thought, actually, study and bedroom don’t conflict, it’s just adding a bed after all.

In the future, he would often enter the Wilderness of Dreams, having a bed in the study would make sleeping more comfortable.

With this thought, Angel passed through the Dream Bridge, arriving at Originheart City.

The place he appeared was the top of the Sky Tower, Frode’s office. At this moment, Frode was sitting at the desk, holding a pen, recording something.

Until he heard footsteps, Frode then noticed Angel’s arrival, quickly standing up to greet him.

Angel nonchalantly gestured for Frode to sit down, himself sitting on the sofa opposite Frode: ”You should remember what the Mentor told you yesterday, right? Have you decided on what authority you want?”

Sanders needed Frode to fuse new authority to obtain more data information. Regarding what authority to fuse, Sanders gave Frode some time to think.

Angel chose to come in at this time, wanting to hear Frode’s opinion. After all, any authority’s impact on the Wilderness of Dreams is profoundly significant.

Mentioning authority, Frode’s expression immediately became solemn, nodding to Angel: ”Sir, I have already made up my mind.”

”Already decided? So, what authority do you plan to choose?” Angel was curious about which authority Frode would select.

Frode did not speak immediately but got up and came to the window.

Through the transparent window, one could clearly see Originheart City under the night’s veil.

”Sir, these past days I’ve been thinking about what authority I should want.” Frode said, ”If it’s too great an authority, I certainly can’t handle it, it might even reflect back to the land like celestial alternation did.”

”Excluding large authority, then among small authority, what authority can I master, and also allow the Wilderness of Dreams to develop rapidly? I pondered for a long time, but couldn’t find an answer.”

”Until I stood here and saw this view.”

Frode gazed down at the glorious lights of Originheart City through the window, a trace of tenderness flashed in his eyes. Originheart City was built under his watch, planned and grown by his own hands, he held endless hopes for it.

Just like a father quietly watching Originheart City grow up.

Currently, Originheart City is developing well, visible even in the dark night, still thriving like a prosperous city that never sleeps.

But as one of the city’s creators, Frode knew too well that these were actually just surface glamor. Beneath Originheart City’s facade float various undercurrents and unease.

Dream Realm residents appear to live cheerfully, actively, but there are too many things that deviate from the norm in this world, seemingly a beautiful Utopia, yet even the most beautiful surface can foster a sense of unreality.

And this sense of unreality may eventually evolve into a kind of panic, spreading to every resident of the Dream Realm living here without knowing the truth.

”I never intended to build Originheart City into a carefree Utopia, but I want this world to become more real.”

”Therefore, the authority I desire is hopefully towards this direction.”