Warlock Apprentice

In his sitting position, Angor first saw a pair of polished black boots. Then he looked up and saw the familiar and stern face of a gentleman.

“Professor?”

He wondered why Sunders suddenly came. To offer congratulations on his successful alchemy work? Probably not, since the crown didn’t look like anything that might interest Sunders.

Angor kept looking and saw Sunders gazing at the crimson crown with a doubtful look.

“I think I know what this is…” Sunders muttered.

Huh? Angor frowned.* Did that woman copy the blueprint from somewhere else?*

“Who asked you to make this?” Sunders asked.

Before going into seclusion, Angor explained to Sunders that he needed to help someone craft an item. Sunders never asked for the details.

Angor showed the shopkeeper the scroll and slowly unfolded it. However, the old man quickly stopped his action as soon as the crimson ink was exposed.

“… It’s you, Mister Padt? Miss Irisa is currently working on a new spell downstairs. Follow me, please. There are no Rune Monitors following you, right?”

Compared to the woman’s name, Angor was more interested in the “new spell” part.

Is she a wizard?

A “cantrip” was usually used for describing lesser spells used by apprentices, while only wizards would cast real spells. However, Angor tried to remember and didn’t recognize any wizard-level signature from the woman when they met during the trader meeting.

While thinking about this, the old shopkeeper brought him to a door that led to an underground compartment. The door was left open.

“Please wait for a moment, Mister Padt.”

Angor knew what he meant because he already felt the rampaging power in front of him. An apprentice that carelessly stepped into the area ahead would surely die pretty fast.

They waited for several minutes until the energy subsided. After that, a female’s voice was heard saying, “Come on in.”

The old man stayed outside and let Angor enter alone.

Angor walked down the stairs and reached what seemed to be a training area, which looked pretty broken. The woman he was looking for was waiting at the center of the area. Her voice and her short, red hair, as well as the strange mask, easily proved her identity to Angor.

So my client IS a wizard… Angor pondered the situation carefully.

He wasn’t being modest when talking with Greya—he truly believed that his alchemy skills weren’t good enough to attract wizard-level customers. But now…

“Hello again, Mister Padt.”