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Rothman's Fireball

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

Roland and the black-haired young girl went up to the second floor.

When the old man saw that Roland was willing to come up, he smiled slightly and said, "Foreign boy, come with me."

Roland was a little confused when he first saw the old man.

This old man had an exaggerated amount of magic power wrapped around his body, much more than him. But strangely enough, this old man's mental power was quite a mess.

There was a sense of it being divided.

Logically, such a powerful Mage couldn't be in this situation, as drawing a large amount of magic power around oneself required a solid and profound mental power.

This was why this contradiction struck Roland as strange.

The three of them went into a room, the young girl Lamia served a kind of clear soup similar to tea. Roland drank it and felt that it wasn't bad. Although it wasn't tea, it had a similar taste, like black tea.

The old man sat across from Roland, sizing him up.

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