Warlock Apprentice

Crowds of people came and went. The talent test took three days, and it came to an end when it was already noon on the fourth day.

Haku, who had been keeping an eye on Ross Mansion, reported the result as well as another piece of information to Jebra.

“Zero?” Jebra raised an eyebrow. “Pretty much expected. I mean, no one in this world wants this job no matter which organization or which part of the world they come from. He must be so brave when accepting the work.”

“Do you know him, sir? I never heard of this man before.” Haku grew curious. As far as she knew, Jebra only treated a few people with a fair attitude, and the apprentice staying with Ross Clan wasn’t one of them.

“He used something to hide his face. As for who he exactly is… you can go and look for yourself.”

Haku sighed and conveyed her second message, “A servant in the mansion told me that man left the house yesterday night. Intention unknown.”

“He’s gone?”

“Right. I’ve been watching, and I failed to notice when he did.” Haku showed an irritated look for failing her job. “Sir, is he perhaps…”

The crafting process was fine. As soon as he landed the finishing touch, the alchemy omen came and pulled him into a strange dimension.

Such an omen was essentially a test that determined whether the creator of the item was capable of possessing it. Last time, the alchemy omen brought by “Infinite Reticence” carried him to a desolate land, where he finished an isolated journey and comprehended the meaning of covertness and detachment.

This time, he was expecting to go through a challenge that reflected the “theme” of Empty Ballad.

As soon as he saw the river, the word “Stream of Fate” instantly popped up in his mind.

He had no proof, but an unknown instinct convinced him that he was looking at the Stream of Fate, which was the signature of one of the three major arts studied by Prophets. Empty Ballad was meant to prevent prophecy, perhaps the challenge took him here to help him learn something.

It was called a stream because one could see rolling tiles flowing toward a certain direction.

But the “tides” weren’t made of water.

Angor had no idea what he was supposed to do here, so he simply walked along the “riverbank”, hoping to find something. Yet he didn’t get to walk very far before sudden fatigue hit him hard and forced him to fall asleep.

In his dream, he became someone else—a weirdo who lived inside a clock tower.