My inventory is full of monster materials.

Chapter 130 No Conflict, No Friendship

The mage's assistant, Sean, cautiously led Mark and Dee to Oss, his movements restrained and his fear barely concealed, as he asked in a low voice for permission.

"My lord, a mage from the association has come to visit you."

Mark appropriately stepped forward, raised his hand to his chest, and performed a standard monk's greeting, speaking in a calm tone.

"Your Excellency Osborn, my name is Mark, and I am a newly appointed official mage of the association. It's a pleasure to meet you."

On the long bench, Osborne had already closed the huge iron book and slowly straightened up, like a majestic small mountain rising from the ground, the heavy iron chains wrapped around his body making a "clattering" sound.

Mark, on the other side, was no less impressive. His two-meter height was exceptionally striking, his skin was fair, and his azure mage robe gave him a cool and aloof air, which contrasted sharply with Osborne's ruggedness.

Their eyes met briefly in the air. After a moment of silence, Osborne spoke first, his voice muffled and clearly impatient.

"Why did you even come!"

"Again?"

Mark instinctively turned to look at Dylan beside him. The two exchanged a glance and saw the same confusion in each other's eyes.

Why is there talk of "coming back" when it's clearly their first time meeting Osborne?

Coming to his senses, Mark quickly offered a calm explanation.

"You may have mistaken me for someone else. This is our first meeting, and we have never interacted before."

To strengthen his persuasiveness and to express his sincerity, Mark reached into his dimensional pouch in his sleeve and slammed the enormous bull's head onto the sand, sending dust flying everywhere.

Mark pointed to the cow's head on the ground and said sincerely.

"This is my gift to you. I hope you like it."

Osborn's copper-bell-like eyes swept over the minotaur's head on the ground, a fleeting hint of attraction flashing in his eyes.

But Osborne quickly suppressed this impulse, exhaling two streams of hot air from his nostrils and letting out a loud shout.

"Don't give me that. Father has already said he will absolutely not agree to that operation. If you dare to keep pestering me, don't blame me for being impolite!"

"???"

Mark was completely stunned. From the moment they met until now, he felt that he and Osborne were on completely different wavelengths.

Even though it was their first meeting, and she kindly gave him a gift, she not only didn't receive a friendly reception, but was also subjected to all sorts of difficulties.

Even a clay Buddha has a bit of temper.

Mark felt a surge of anger well up inside him, and his face turned cold.

"No wonder you have orc blood; you're certainly warlike. Since I can't reason with you, let's settle things with our fists!"

"Mark, we're here today to..."

Seeing this, Dylan quickly stepped forward to stop Mark and remind him of the purpose of his trip.

But Mark raised his hand and patted Dylan on the shoulder, interrupting the latter's next words.

"Don't worry, I'll go very lightly. I won't cripple him."

Before Dylan could say anything more, Mark had already turned and entered the field.

In the center of the training field, the two stood facing each other, twenty meters apart.

Osborne's skin grew increasingly red, like a red-hot iron, and the chains binding him swayed with his breath. He leaned on a dull gray steel magic book.

Mark was equally on high alert, a chilling aura emanating from him, his azure mage robes fluttering without wind, and a ball of pale blue magical light held in his palm.

The magical energy in the air collided with each other, like fire hitting ice, producing a soft "sizzling" sound.

Dylan and Sean stood side by side in the rest area, watching the two inside.

Things have clearly gone beyond expectations, and there must have been some misunderstanding. But now both sides are on the verge of conflict, and no amount of persuasion will help. The only way to resolve the misunderstanding is to determine the winner through strength.

The next second, Mark was the first to erupt, raising his hand to condense a two-meter-long ice spear. The ice spear was pure white and exuded a chilling aura. Without hesitation, he threw the ice spear.

This is the 3rd Ring spell "Ice Lance". Mark fully respects his opponent and immediately uses his own enhanced attack.

Osborn roared and raised the magic iron book in front of him with both hands. With a muffled thud, the ice spear slammed into the iron book and shattered into ice shards.

Mark narrowed his eyes, not expecting his opponent to block his spell so easily.

It should be noted that the "Ice Lance Technique" is as famous as the "Fireball Technique," and its power is enough to shatter ordinary plate armor, yet it failed to leave the slightest mark on the iron book, which clearly indicates that the iron book is made of extremely special materials.

Taking advantage of the brief gap in the spell, Osborne quickly opened the magic iron book, placed one hand on the page, and the page instantly burst into a dazzling red light, letting out a low shout.

"Demonic Weapon!"

Subsequently, the iron book was enchanted by flames, turning scorching hot and red, radiating a burning aura. However, Osborn's hand gripped it as easily and comfortably as if it were an ordinary object, without being burned in the slightest.

Upon seeing this, Mark's mind raced.

"Ice Lance" occupies a spell slot in the magic network and has a relatively high casting delay, so the failure of the first strike actually gave Osborn a chance to react.

Mark immediately decided to change his strategy, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he unleashed a barrage of icy arrows.

At the same time, they conjured ice blades, which, in conjunction with the ice arrows, formed an impenetrable attack network that enveloped Osborne from all sides.

In contrast, Osborne remained standing still, wielding his red-hot iron book with both hands, shattering ice arrows and blades as if swatting flies.

A few ice blades that managed to slip through the net landed on Osborn's body, only to be instantly melted by the scorching heat, leaving only a faint white mark.

Only sharp ice arrows can pierce the crimson skin, but they can only leave shallow wounds.

Osborne, relying on his formidable physical strength and unwavering will, withstood all the ice-based magical attacks.

Even more surprisingly, Osborne kept triggering auxiliary spells on the magic iron book while enduring the attacks.

Giant Transformation!

The art of resilience!

Brute force!

The three spells took effect in succession.

Osborn's body swelled to the size of an ogre, his muscles became more and more prominent, his aura of power surged, and the ground beneath his feet sank slightly.

Mark looked at Osborn, who resembled a humanoid behemoth, and became increasingly wary. He stopped attacking and instead used his mental energy to connect with the magic network, accumulating spells.

After casting the buff spell, Osborne activated his counterattack mode, using "Great Stride" to rush towards Mark in just two steps.

The scorching hot magic iron book, carrying immense force, slammed down towards Mark, creating a loud "bang" as it struck the air.

With a muffled thud, a powerful blast of air swept up dust from the ground.

Mark had anticipated this, and in a flash, he appeared five meters away, while letting out a low shout.

"Ice Wall Technique!"

A wall of ice, half a person thick and two meters high, instantly materialized, radiating a chilling aura, and forcefully blocked the two sides.

Osborne, realizing what was happening, made no attempt to take a detour. With unparalleled force, he slammed the massive magic iron book against the ice wall once more.

boom!

The ice wall was immediately covered with dense cracks.

Osborne's eyes narrowed, and he exerted force with his arm, slamming the iron book hard against the ice wall. With a crisp "crack," the ice wall shattered instantly, turning into countless ice shards scattered all over the ground.

Seeing his third-circle spell easily destroyed, Mark showed no panic and raised his hand to conjure another ice wall.

Then came the second, the third...

Five crisscrossing ice walls form a simple ice wall maze, trapping Osborne, who was firing at full power, inside.

The ice wall collided with the scorching iron book, generating a large amount of steam that filled the center of the training field, obscuring the view of both sides.

Mark leaped onto the ice wall, but instead of pursuing, he looked down at Osborne with a hint of mockery in his eyes.

Ordinary professional mages can only cast about ten third-level spells at most, but Mark has the golden talent "Magic Furnace" to his advantage.

Not only does it double its magic reserves, but its recovery speed also far exceeds that of ordinary people, making it easy to cast any number of spells.

Mark's mind wasn't on defeating Osborn, but on stalling for time, exhausting the orc's stamina and magic, and waiting for the irritable orc to calm down before explaining his purpose.

Below, Osborn was crashing around haphazardly in the ice wall maze. His movements gradually slowed down, the effects of his magic began to fade, and his breathing became heavy. His physical strength and magic power were being greatly depleted.

"How can he have so many spells? This can't go on; we'll be worn down eventually!"

Osborn immediately changed tactics, gripped the magic iron book with both hands, and hurled it.

With the enhancement of the "enchanted weapon", the iron book flew towards the target on the ice wall like a giant branding iron disc, accompanied by a scorching gust of wind.

At the same time, Osborne used his legs to propel himself up, and with the help of the "Jump Technique," he leaped into the air and crashed into the ground like a meteorite.

"snort!"

Mark snorted coldly, having already seen through the orc's movements. His figure twisted with the space for a moment, and he instantly disappeared from the spot.

The iron book swept past with a strong wind, slamming hard against the ice wall and leaving a melting dent, from which a scorching heat spread.

Osborne lost sight of his target and looked around.

Unbeknownst to him, the space behind him fluctuated, and Mark suddenly appeared, quickly conjuring a sharp ice blade that slashed towards Osborn's back.

This big guy needs to be taught a lesson, or he'll keep acting arrogantly for who knows how long.

"what!"

Osborne, wincing in pain from the blow to his back, let out an angry roar and instinctively turned to throw a punch. With the "Brute Force" spell amplified once more, his fist, imbued with violent magic, slammed fiercely towards Mark.

However, Mark neither dodged nor evaded, and watched helplessly as the fist came hurtling towards him.

Just as the fist was about to touch his chest, "Frost Armor" was activated, and a thin layer of ice armor instantly covered Mark's entire body.

Osborne's fist slammed into the ice armor, instantly freezing it. The chill spread along his arm, causing him to pause.

At the same time, a large amount of icy mist sprayed from Mark's robe sleeves, obscuring Osborne's vision.

Having lost his sight, Osborn flailed his fists and the iron book wildly like a headless fly, repeatedly missing his target. His wounds multiplied, and his physical strength and magic were completely exhausted.

During the back-and-forth exchanges, Osborn's speed and strength noticeably decreased, and his body was covered in shallow wounds.

Mark, meanwhile, strolled leisurely, relying on his abundant magical reserves and agile movement to consistently suppress the orcs.

Gradually, the ice fog in the center of the training field dissipated, the steam gradually dissipated, and the scene gradually returned to calm.

Osborne was completely exhausted. He knelt on one knee, his chest heaving violently. His once ruddy skin had lost its luster, and his magic had completely dissipated. He was in a sorry state.

In front of him, the mage's robe was spotless.

Seeing this, Dylan quickly walked over to Mark and asked with concern.

"Mark, how are you?"

"I'm fine."

Mark shook his head slightly, turned his gaze to Osborne kneeling on the ground, and asked in a softer tone.

"Now, can we talk properly?"

Osborne remained defiant, gritting his teeth as he slowly raised his head, the resentment still lingering in his eyes, his voice still carrying a hint of stubbornness.

"If I say no, then no!"

Mark frowned, his face full of confusion.

He never explained his purpose, and Osborne's resistance seemed inexplicable, so he pressed him for an answer in a deep voice.

"I haven't said anything yet, why are you saying it's not okay?"

"?"

Osborne froze, looked up blankly, his gaze shifting between Mark and Dylan, and began to explain involuntarily.

"Dad said everyone in your association is rotten to the core, and nobody dares to go on the 'Anchor Point' operation, so they need me to fill in."

"Um?!"

Mark looked thoughtful.

It seems Osborne mistook them for brokers sent by the association, hence his hostility upon first meeting them.

But upon further reflection, there are still many doubts.

Operation "Anchor Point"?

Could this unheard-of plan be related to this support mission?

Mark considered for a moment, then sincerely defended himself to Osborne.

"You misunderstand, sir. We have no idea about any 'anchor point' operation. We've come today to express our goodwill and, at the same time, to ask you for a favor."

Mark then patiently explained his purpose to Osborne in detail.

Osborne listened very attentively, occasionally frowning and asking a few more questions about the details, confirming them several times before bursting into laughter.

"Haha! Oh, I see. It's no big deal! I'll go and help out, and I'll definitely keep an eye out for those guys."

"Seriously, your spell was so powerful! I couldn't even get close. It was so frustrating to lose!"

The orc raised his hand and touched his bald head, a simple, silly grin on his face. His crimson skin gradually faded to pink, making him look even more adorable.

However, Mark's doubts resurfaced, and he couldn't help but ask.

"The 'anchor point' operation you mentioned, isn't it referring to the association sending accompanying monks to support those trapped on Mount Tabora?"

Osborne shook his head repeatedly in denial.

"No, my father told me that the 'anchor point' operation is a preliminary task for the support operation, and the process is extremely dangerous."

"Those people in the association are cowards and wanted to put my name in, but luckily my father found out in time and tore it off."

Suddenly, Mark had a premonition that this matter might involve him, so he asked another question.

What is the "anchor point" operation?

But Osborne scratched his bald head again and replied with an embarrassed expression.

"Actually, I don't know exactly what it is, but anyway, my father told me not to go, so I won't go."

Mark fell silent.

In these turbulent times, Mark had no time to meddle in other people's business, so he suppressed his doubts and inquired about something else.

"By the way, regarding the magic book, may I pay a visit to your father, Master Albright?"

Perhaps due to the misunderstanding earlier, or perhaps out of genuine admiration for Mark's abilities, Osborne agreed almost without hesitation.

"Okay! I'll take you there. Dad's a very nice man, he'll definitely help you!"