Cyril sat down on the soft and fluffy sofa, but before he could even relax, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, as if he were being watched by something dangerous, sending shivers down his spine.
However, the room still exuded an elegant and relaxed atmosphere, with nothing out of the ordinary.
Cyril sat up straight, alert, and attempted to strike up a conversation with the wizard in front of him, trying to dispel this eerie feeling.
"I am Cyril Lawrence. May I inquire how I should address you, Mr. Wizard?" Cyril asked, his voice gentle.
Brian glanced briefly at Cyril.
He saw a pale face with a faint blush on Cyril's cheeks, sitting with perfect posture.
For a moment, Brian thought that this young man resembled the delicate little roses in the window.
Not only were his bones exquisite, but his skin was also fair and smooth.
Brian couldn't help but wonder which was more beautiful, the color of his blood or the petals of a rose.
"I am Claude Scott, my name, young Cyril," Brian replied in a gentle and elegant tone, with a soft ending.
Cyril felt a strange allure when he heard his name pronounced by the wizard.
He hesitated for a moment and awkwardly licked his dry lips.
"I seem to have forgotten about the tea."
Brian noticed the fleeting glimpse of Cyril's red tongue and paused before adding, "Allow me to rectify that."
Then Cyril watched as Mr. Scott snapped his slender fingers, and there was a commotion on the small round table covered with a silver-green tablecloth in the middle of the room.
The beautiful teapot, which had previously been adorned with golden patterns, seemed to suddenly sprout legs and moved on its own. The chubby teapot obediently poured tea into an exquisite bone china teacup placed beside it. The tea was still steaming, as if it had just been brewed.
Before the tea reached three-quarters of the way up the cup, the teapot stopped by itself and returned to its original position on the small round table, motionless. The bone china teacup, now filled with tea, floated over to Cyril's side.
Seeing Cyril hesitating without reaching out to hold it, the teacup seemed to feel neglected and gently brushed against Cyril's hand.
The warm sensation of the tea, separated by the cup's wall, reached Cyril's fair hand.
He smiled and reached out to take the teacup.
The moment Cyril held the teacup, he felt the faint magical fluctuations that had been present on the cup disappear.
"I apologize for my oversight," Brian said with a smile as he saw Cyril lower his eyes and take a sip of tea.
His tone was somewhat casually teasing, but not disrespectful.
Brian poured himself some red wine from a side cabinet into a crystal goblet, all without opening his eyes.
Cyril watched Mr. Scott, who was now lazily reclining on the sofa, swirling his wine glass with closed eyes, and he couldn't help but feel that this wizard had an underlying arrogance.
Perhaps all wizards were arrogant, and Mr. Scott was already a gentleman with good manners.
Cyril consoled himself, thinking that geniuses always had some quirks.
Cyril considered himself very understanding, and seeing Mr. Scott's somewhat aloof attitude, he remained quiet, not wanting to disturb.
In this reception room, there was no noise from the outside world. The fireplace emitted a continuous warmth, and the spacious sofa was incredibly soft. Cyril felt his eyelids getting heavier.
So sleepy...
I really want to take a nap.
Cyril felt that his brain was becoming hazy, as if it were filled with thick chocolate sauce.
But then he suddenly realized that he was currently in a wizard's carriage. Sleeping here would be the same as sleeping in a teacher's office, which was unacceptable.
[System! Please play some uplifting music!]
Cyril had no choice but to turn to his trusty system. After all, he had a deep impression of the bizarre music library within it, and they had proven effective during previous meditations.
"Alright! Alright! I'm truly touched that, under my persistent influence, you've finally improved your taste in music!" the system's voice sounded particularly moved.
In the next instant, a powerful and piercing soprano voice filled the room, as if someone were forcefully cutting through porcelain plates.
[Oh, oh, eh! Ah, ah, eh, eh...]
Cyril jolted awake.
He couldn't hear anymore.
As the song ended, Cyril felt an unusual sense of inner peace.
Still not fully recovered from the "captivating" music, Cyril didn't notice that the wizard sitting across from him was observing him with keen interest.
Brian realized that the young man clearly wanted to sleep, with his head drooping and all, and then he suddenly struggled awake, as if he had been frightened by something.
He clearly remembered that the little guy had not shown the slightest trace of fear or panic when he saw his skeleton knight. Brian observed all of this, his lips curving slightly.
Suddenly, he felt in a good mood and had the idea to tease the young man in front of him.
"Oh, by the way, let me test your wizard talent," Brian said casually, his tone smooth and relaxed, with a hint of leisure and a subtle, almost imperceptible sense of delight.
He waved his hand and summoned a crystal ball the size of a palm.
The crystal ball was translucent, with a frigid texture that seemed to be formed from the condensation of a thousand years of ice and snow.
Upon hearing Mr. Wizard's words, Cyril nervously swallowed and felt a rush of inexplicable excitement running through his body. As he gazed at the crystal ball before him, his eyes widened.
"Place your hands on it," Brian said lightly.
Cyril obediently extended his hands and held the crystal ball, feeling its delicate and slightly cool surface.
Nothing happened.
Cyril was a bit puzzled.
But in the next moment, a strong stimulation passed through the point of contact between his hands and the crystal ball, assaulting his brain with a force several hundred times greater than the impact of the song the system had played earlier.
Cyril felt like his nerves were on the verge of breaking down! It was as if someone was forcefully stirring his brain with sharp objects, tearing apart the tightly knit neural tissues.
It was so unbearable!
Stop, please stop!
However, his hands seemed to be firmly attached to the crystal ball, as if glued together with the strongest adhesive, unable to break free. It was as if someone was forcibly pressing his hands onto the crystal ball, rendering him immobile.
The blue veins beneath his pale skin seemed to be roaring and venting this unbearable pain.
Cyril's face turned bright red, with patches of pink appearing on his fair cheeks. Even his neck and the delicate lobes of his ears were tinged with a dazzling crimson.
His dark eyes momentarily lost focus, as if they had been swallowed by the abyss.
Brian calmly savored Cyril's current state of distress and agony.
He even took a sip of wine with great interest.
His pale lips still bore a hint of the deep red stain from the wine, and his lower lip lightly touched the transparent stem of the wine glass. In the indigo eyes beneath his elegant brow, a hint of hidden and peculiar excitement flashed.
Cry out and weep soon, innocent little lamb.
Brian murmured in his mind.
While Cyril was in extreme pain, he didn't notice that the number on the crystal ball had slowly jumped to "20," a silvery-glowing figure that continued to rise gently.
Who am I?
Where am I?
Cyril felt as though his soul had detached from his body and drifted to a distant place.
A deep, smooth voice murmured in his ear, "Death is the most beautiful destination."
At this moment, the little snake, Gremlin, in Cyril's pocket had crawled onto Cyril's hands, which were placed on the crystal ball.
With a flick of its tail, it struck the crystal ball, severing the link between the crystal ball and Cyril.
Suddenly freed from that nauseating state, Cyril turned pale, his limbs powerless.
He gasped for breath, collapsing onto the clean and soft woolen carpet.
Tiny beads of sweat clung to his cheeks, running down his still-flushed neck. His ebony hair was damp with sweat.
Brian looked down at Cyril's beautiful face, which was now quiet with lowered eyelashes, resembling a dew-kissed little rose.
The curve of his jaw was exquisite, and his wet, curly black hair lay disheveled against his smooth forehead.
A tiny, sparkling bead of sweat glistened on the delicate teardrop mole at the corner of his left eye.
He was unexpectedly beautiful without realizing it.
Quite unexpected.
Most wizard apprentices with very ordinary talents would collapse under such unrestrained psychic attacks and eventually become mentally unstable patients.
Brian raised an eyebrow.
Of course, he had intentionally refrained from stopping the crystal ball's continuous release of psychic attacks. In his eyes, Cyril had already been marked with the label of "a perfect framework."
Sooner or later, Cyril would be his.
Brian glanced at the alchemical little snake still hovering on the crystal ball. It was indeed a successful alchemical experiment, but it seemed to have mistaken who its true master was.
But it didn't matter. After its current master died, it would naturally know whom to obey. Brian thought to himself with a good mood.
He then looked at the number "25" on the crystal ball.
This was an excellent psychic power figure. Some wizard apprentices who had been in the wizard academy for one or two years couldn't even reach this level of psychic power.
Those fools who could never become true wizards.
Brian originally just casually glanced at it, but suddenly, his gaze was drawn to it, as if something had caught his attention.
He raised his hand to recall the crystal ball and lightly tapped its translucent surface.
"Very good," Brian said gently.
He hadn't expected that this little guy could directly absorb psychic power from his crystal ball, even though it was just a tiny amount. It was enough to surprise Brian.
Furthermore, the numbers on the crystal ball were gradually turning red. Currently, it displayed Cyril's magical power: 10.
Brian suddenly remembered when he first encountered this young man in the Misty Forest, a boy from a remote town who had already self-taught a simple spell.
Interesting.
Brian snapped his fingers, and Cyril was immediately enveloped in a warm feeling, as if the previous exhaustion had been nothing but an illusion.
He felt as comfortable as a baby returning to its mother's embrace.
"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Cyril said politely, catching his breath.
"Perhaps you can just call me Scott," Brian suggested with a slight smile. "After all, I'm your senior."
Cyril blinked, not quite understanding.
Brian put on a troubled expression and continued, "To be honest, I'm just an ordinary wizard apprentice. I was specially sent to Atlantis Continent by the Academy's headmaster to recruit students."
Mr. Scott was only a wizard apprentice???
Cyril couldn't believe it, especially considering the immense magical power Mr. Scott had demonstrated.
In shock, Cyril discreetly had the system check the data of this wizard apprentice.
Cyril watched the screen, which displayed: "Magical Power: ￥%……# (Serious Warning: Magical power exceeding 100,000+ is immeasurable!)."
He glanced at the crystal ball, which still displayed the highest magical power level he had reached so far: 10.
Not even a fraction.
"Mr. Scott?! Are you really just a wizard apprentice?" Cyril's clear voice trembled slightly.
Brian felt a momentary sense of being observed, and his smile deepened as he nodded. "I'm just an average wizard apprentice! You might as well help me keep this secret, little Cyril."
Surprised.
Are all you wizard apprentices so outrageously powerful with magical power?
Brian thought to himself.