Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

The middle-aged monk also scratched his head, and the two of them scratched at each other like two monkeys who didn't know how they got the bananas from the tourists.

They are neither good at nor fond of socializing, otherwise they wouldn't only have a handful of friends.

"Roller? People can copy it themselves." Goto counted on his fingers.

"A ritual implement? People might not even be interested in it," the middle-aged monk replied.

"Gold coins?" Goto looked at the middle-aged mage. "Don't we need them? We could give them a thousand or two gold coins, but I doubt they'd care."

The two looked at each other and fell into deep thought.

The courtyard fell silent.

In the distance, faint sounds of noise came from the street; someone was shouting their wares, and children were laughing and playing, creating a buzzing cacophony.

The young monk whispered, "How about... we treat him to a meal?"

Goto glanced at him, said nothing, yet seemed to have said everything.

The young monk understood the look in that eyes, shrank back, and remained silent.

The middle-aged monk waved his hand, causing the wine in his cup to swirl. "Forget it, let nature take its course. When he wants to get to know us, or needs our help, he'll ask. If he doesn't, it means he doesn't need it. Don't try to bother him."

Goto nodded, picked up his glass, and finished the rest of his drink.

The wine went down his throat, and he smacked his lips, seemingly lost in thought.

After a while, Goto stood up, and the wooden bench creaked again.

He brushed off non-existent dust from his robe: "Alright, time to go back to the shop. You guys chat, I'll be going now."

After he left, the young mage approached the middle-aged mage and whispered, "Tell me, what's the background of that half-elf mage?"

The middle-aged monk stared at the swirling wine in his cup and remained silent for a while.

"I don't know," he said.

The middle-aged monk put down the cup.

"I don't want to know, and you shouldn't ask either."

The young monk was taken aback.

The middle-aged monk stood up, causing the wooden bench to tilt slightly.

He straightened the stool, walked out, and waved his hand without turning back when he reached the door:

"Let's go back and do the experiment. I bought a new batch of materials that cost two thousand gold coins."

Only the young monk remained in the courtyard.

He finished the last bit of wine in his glass and looked up at the clouds on the horizon.

The sky was very blue, the clouds were very white, and the clouds drifted slowly in the sky.

……

That afternoon, Lance appeared on time in Lillian's study on the second floor of the training hall.

Lillian was already waiting there.

Today she was wearing a light blue training uniform, her bright red hair tied in pigtails, and she sat properly in the chair.

But her eyes betrayed her—she kept stealing glances at Lance.

Lance sat down opposite her and tapped the table: "What are you looking at?"

Lillian was startled and quickly looked away, her face slightly flushed: "N-nothing."

"Nothing?" Lance raised an eyebrow. "You've looked at me at least twelve times since you walked in."

Lillian's face turned even redder.

She lowered her head, twisting her fingers around the hem of her skirt, and whispered, "Teacher, could you let me see you perform your spell up close today?"

Lance looked at her: "Want to cast a spell?"

"Mmm-hmm!" Lillian nodded vigorously.

Lance thought for a moment, then stood up: "How can seeing with your eyes compare to experiencing it firsthand?"

Lillian paused, then asked, "Experience?"

"Yes." Lance led her downstairs, held out his hand, "Give me your hand."

Lillian stretched out her hand in a daze.

Lance grasped her wrist, raised his other hand, and began to gather magic power in it.

[Dragon Breath Technique!]

【Dragon Breath: You touch a willing creature and enable it to exhale magical energy, as long as it has a mouth, for one minute.】

Choose one of the following: strong acid, freezing, fire, lightning, or poison. Until the spell ends, the creature can use an action to unleash a 15-meter cone of the corresponding energy, dealing 18 points of damage based on that energy.

Lillian felt a warm energy flow from Lance's fingertips into her body, spreading down her arm to her chest, and then... stopping there.

"What is this...?" she asked softly.

"Dragon Breath Technique." Lance released his grip. "Now, all you need to do is open your mouth and channel that energy to unleash breaths of fire or lightning."

Lillian's eyes widened: "Breath-breathing fire?"

"Give it a try." Lance took two steps back and pointed to the pile of training scarecrows in the corner. "Aim over there."

Lillian stood there, somewhat bewildered.

She opened her mouth, unsure of what to do.

"Don't hesitate," Lance said. "Just rely on your instincts, like controlling your hands and feet, and spit it out of your mouth."

Lillian took a deep breath.

She closed her eyes, feeling the warm energy in her chest.

Then she opened her mouth—

"call--"

A burst of orange-red flame, fifteen meters long, shot out from her mouth and landed directly on the pile of scarecrows.

The scarecrow turned to ashes in an instant.

Lillian was stunned.

She looked at the burning scarecrow, then looked down at her own hands, then looked up at Lance.

"I...I really breathed fire?"

"It sprayed."

Lance nodded.

"It sprayed quite far."

Lillian opened her mouth, but couldn't say a word for a long time.

Lillian nodded vigorously, ran to another corner, and opened her mouth towards the air—

"call--"

Another flame.

"call--"

One more batch.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh—"

After spraying three times, the warm feeling in my chest gradually faded.

She ran back, panting, "Teacher, it's...it's gone..."

The once luxurious and grand training ground has now been completely ruined by Lillian.

"Hmm... I wonder if Arya will scold Lillian for tearing up the house... Probably not, right?" Lance thought to himself.

Lillian nodded, but the excitement on her face didn't diminish at all.

She looked up at Lance and suddenly asked, "Teacher, will I be able to cast spells like you in the future?"

Lance looked at her.

"Yes," he said, "as long as you keep going."

Lillian nodded vigorously.

"Teacher, how did you learn those complex spell models?"

Lance the kitten shrugged: "Uh... that's roughly it, then do that and finally do that again and you'll learn it..."

"Then..." her eyes sparkled, "Why are you so amazing? Is there some secret?"

Lance paused for a moment, then said in a serious tone:

"The reason I'm so strong is, of course, because—"

Lillian's eyes lit up.

Lance: "My exceptional talent."

Lillian's face fell.

"However," Lance changed the subject,

"This, of course, is also inseparable from—"

Lillian's eyes lit up again.

Lance: "It's all thanks to my hard work and sweat."

Lillian's face fell again.

Lillian looked at Lance with a resentful expression.

Lance felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze: "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Teacher," Lillian pouted, "Are you kidding me?"

Lance coughed and looked away: "That's not true, I'm just telling the truth."