Jeanne exhaled a breath of relief since she had been nervous all along, as Ardor didn’t give her a soul flower.
She looked at her lover in joy and saw his smiling, supportive face. Her heart began beating faster, and she immediately wanted to run over and hug that man who changed her life.
The mage saw their interaction and interjected, “You’re really talented, so it’s better to choose your company wisely.” She looked at Ardor, knowing the difference between them and the limit of a low talent.
Jeanne was annoyed after understanding the mage’s words, but knowing it was not appropriate to be rude, she respectfully replied, “Yes, Lord Mage.” She then went towards Ardor.
The mage looked at Jeanne, who had listened to her words but ignored them. ‘You will realize what I mean as you get stronger and stronger, while he fails to surpass his innate limits, get old, and eventually turn to bones.’
She continued the testing process as more young people joined their group of talented potential mages. Soon, it was time to perform miracles for those who wanted them.
Ardor looked on as old men and women turned young and energetic after drinking potions given by the mage after they paid an appropriate price.
He saw middle-aged women complaining about their unfaithful husbands and requesting something to restrain their lower bodies. The mage handed them a small pink potion while quietly explaining its effects.
After seeing the mage perform more and more miracles with her wand and the potions she had, the people standing with Ardor were mostly filled with admiration and a deep longing for the power she controlled.
Soon, the line was empty, all miracles performed. The female mage looked at the curious group of little teens staring at her with starry eyes and remembered how she looked the same. That same smile, that same eagerness and curiosity for magic.
‘But few among them will live to see a better life,’ she thought with little emotion. Remembering the talents they held, she looked at two girls. ‘Only those with high talents are worthy of being groomed and can mature as powerhouses.’
She looked at a few boys and a girl. ‘Even medium talent can be groomed, but they can never reach great heights.’
The mage ignored the majority with low talents, knowing if they could not surpass their innate limits, they’d watch themselves get older, weak, and too useless to accomplish anything.
Her gaze focused upon a boy, the leader of a group with many talents. ‘I wonder what he did to charm her. That submissive look in her eyes… I must warn that high talent once again, to not be taken advantage of.’
Again, she shook her head at the talents following the boy, ‘All low, not worth mentioning.’
As she was about to announce her name and impart instructions, the door to the side palace once again opened after a knock.
Amidst her growing displeasure at the lack of punctuality, a few men entered carrying what looked like an extremely old and thin man with deep wrinkles and a few white hair waving atop his nearly bald head on a stretcher along with a messenger from the king.
The messenger ignored the commotion his arrival caused and bowed towards the mage.
“Lord Mage! Our king requests you to take a look at this noble youth before you, who has most likely been cursed! He was a Peak Apprentice Warrior! The royal family is willing to pay all the expenses required to heal him.”
The mage’s eyebrows raised in slight confusion, and her anger calmed down. As she looked at the old man brought before her, she quickly cast a spell that scanned him and murmured, “It’s true. His true age should not be over 16. How interesting…”
Ardor looked at the Edgar he recognized and smirked. He was eager to find out Isabella’s reaction after knowing his identity.
The mage cast a few more spells, but she still couldn’t find the exact cause. Still, the investigation wasn’t useless as she gave the king’s messenger some knowledge.
“His essence was forcefully removed outside his body. What happened to him? What was he doing at that time?”
The messenger looked at the curious group of youths, then at her. His hesitation was clear for all to see.
But the mage didn’t change her words, so he swallowed once before saying, “Young Edgar was relaxing with two women, then sent them away. Then someone attacked him with a small dart, and soon, his white essence began leaving his body. That’s all he said after we woke him with great difficulty.”
The mage imagined the scene and realizing the quantity of essence that had left him and turned the sixteen-year-old into one near death made her almost salivate.
But she had an image to maintain and she could take care of her needs with her male slaves back on the ship, so she thought of solving his problem first.
Taking a potion from her ring with swirling white inside, she shook it in front of the messenger. “This will heal him without any side effects, but the price to pay might be too much.”
The messenger looked at her playful smile and hardened his heart to hear the answer.
“Please tell me what it will be, Lord Mage.”
“1000 platinum coins.”
Her words silenced his thoughts and all the quiet chatter immediately stopped. The messenger felt as if his heart would leap outside his body, then remembered he wasn’t the one paying.
“I request you to wait for a bit as I need to ask the king.” He respectfully bowed and left after receiving a nod from her.
Ardor, along with others soon to embark on a magical path, gazed at the white potion in wonder. He knew the cause of Edgar’s condition and had an inkling of the potions’s effects.
‘Life-force? Even that can be recovered? But why is it so expensive!?’ He looked at Edgar’s old body. ‘Is it because he’s a Peak Apprentice Warrior?’
He looked at Isabella’s open mouth, which did not close ever since she heard Edgar’s name and decided to have some fun with her.
<Lance.> he communicated with telepathy as his clone looked at him. <Ask Isabella if she wants to go back to Edgar, and tell her you will allow her to go to him and won’t stop her.>
Lance noticed Ardor’s smirk and immediately understood the plan.
<But what if she really goes back to him, thinking he is now more valuable since his family influenced even the king to get him healed?>
Ardor’s playful gaze suddenly turned cold, and as Jeanne in his embrace felt the difference, he murmured, “Our enemies will never be allowed to live happy lives.”
“Of course!” Jeanne nodded. “We should never show mercy to them. Showing mercy to them is like harming ourselves!”
While Lance nodded and turned to Isabella, Ardor patted Jeanne’s head in delight and asked, “You’re right. But how do you know that?”
Isabella hesitated, wondering if it was good to tell him about her dark past filled with bloodshed. ‘What will he think of me when he knows I’m not just a pretty flower he can love, but someone trained to kill, and do worse things…’
Her eyes held worry as she began remembering her past after knowing that her training was the only thing she could use to help her lover defeat his opponents and protect him if he ever needed it.
Despite never seeing him fight, Jeanne had a belief that his powers were stronger than her wildest imagination.
Ardor noticed that worry and hugged her closer. With a soothing voice, he whispered in her ear, “It’s alright. I will never judge you for who you were.”
As she began feeling better, he added, “You can always tell me whenever you want cause I won’t let you go ever again!”
Jeanne quietly nodded her head, as his words made her feel sweet and almost removed all hesitation to share her past in her heart. As she was about to tell him, a loud sound caught her attention.
“No please! Don’t! What did I do wrong?”
Jeanne left Ardor’s embrace and saw Isabella lunging towards Lance and hugging him while weeping.
Lance awkwardly smiled, getting all the attention he could possibly ever need, and he even received a glance from the mage who began feeding Edgar her potion after getting the money from the messenger who had come back after receiving the king’s approval.
<Looks like you just got more famous.> Ardor smirked.
Lance looked at other women who cast disgusted gazes at him for making a beauty cry and the men who stared at him in jealousy, almost spitting fire through their eyes.
<But this is not the kind of attention I ever wanted! Why did she get so emotional!> he inwardly cursed.
Ardor looked at her weeping face and smiled. <It beats me. All I know is seeing her cry makes me feel better. Don’t ask me why.>
Thanks for the chapter!
Glad you liked it :)