Chapter 566: The Teacher Makes a Perfect Shield

Viscount Joann’s smile stiffened slightly. He cast a covert glance at Miss Silver Dragon, his heart filled with regret.

What a pity!

This Mage Nordmark, he should have made his move before leaving!

Whether it was his niece or granddaughter, any one of them marrying would have made us all one family by now! And now, after four years, he returns with a beautiful young woman...

And not just any beautiful woman. Her glittering silver hair and rare silver-blue eyes made a stunning impression. Clearly, she came from no ordinary background.

Although her surname, title, and family background were unknown, just her aura alone seemed more formidable than that of Mage Nordmark.

Oh well, it’s time to let my own silly daughters marry whoever they should. No need to think too much about this young talent now.

He forced a smile and gestured with his hand. Immediately, a little boy with a robust build entered. His neck was almost as thick as his chin.

Viscount Joann brought him in front of Garrett, without any explanation, and rebuked:

“Roburn, haven’t you greeted Mage Nordmark yet?”

Roburn stiffened his neck and didn’t move until Viscount Joann slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to grunt and give a begrudging bow. Standing upright, he didn’t even look at him, his eyes drifting instead towards Serella—

To be precise, to Serella’s hair. Obviously, the young lad had never seen hair that shimmered like Miss Silver Dragon’s before.

He looked just like a rambunctious child. As the grandson of the great Mage Lorenz, he was no better than that blond kid who got a stone stuck in his lung. And his talent was even less promising...

Viscount Joann glared at him twice, to no effect, and it wasn’t appropriate to scold the child in front of guests. He could only cough and get to the point:

“This grandson of mine, Roburn, just turned nine. He’s not too dull. Last year, he was discovered to have the potential to cast spells…”

Oh, so he must be a mage’s apprentice by now?

But perhaps not yet; magicians require a lot of preliminary knowledge, and he might still be plowing through those books…

Garrett thought silently, not interrupting, but offered a polite smile. Viscount Joann squeezed his cheeks, his puffy eyes narrowing further:

“Mage Gelman said the boy has good potential and could soon become a mage’s apprentice. I wonder, could he have the fortune to become your disciple?”

Garrett started to chuckle to himself halfway through listening. He had overheard Mage Gelman lecturing before.

This mage was adept at dealing with the nobles and wealthy of the city, primarily by flattery:

A thirty percent chance would be inflated to fifty or sixty percent;

A fifty or sixty percent chance would be inflated to seventy or eighty percent;

And if there really was a seventy to eighty percent chance, in his mouth, it was a certainty.

Could soon become a mage’s apprentice?

That likely meant, without real effort, the boy would at best remain a mage’s apprentice all his life.

—Of course, such things were not to be said lightly. And Garrett, seeing no good match in the child, had no intention of taking him as a disciple!

Of course, an outright refusal was not an option. Garrett furrowed his brows, sighing with difficulty:

“Ah…”

“What, what is it?”

Garrett straightened up solemnly. With the sincerity and slight shame of a junior doctor negotiating with a patient’s family after a mishap, he said:

“Lord Mayor, I too entered the world of magic at Mage Gelman’s tower, and if he says the talent is there, then it surely is. But now… Ah, my teacher, I mean, the one who taught me magic, has not yet permitted me to take disciples. I simply can’t take any myself!”

Viscount Joann was stunned for a moment. Garrett was so convincing that he continued in one breath:

“My teacher sets very high standards, you see. Even though I’m already Level Six, it was only after I reached Level Five that he agreed to take me on as his disciple. And that’s just been a little over half a year…”

Expecting significant progress in such a short time to reach the level where his teacher would allow him to take disciples was obviously wishful thinking.

What, what?

Viscount Joann gasped in shock. The servants waiting in the small parlor silently gaped.

What did Level Five mage mean? A mid-tier mage, a local powerhouse, Mage Gelman was already capable of running a mage tower and representing the Magic Council within the viscounty at Level Five!

And for Garrett, it meant he had just qualified to enter at Level Five...

How powerful must his teacher be? Level ten? Fifteen?

Or...

“Your teacher is…”

Garrett smiled silently. Viscount Joann dared not ask further, while the servants stood against the wall, hardly daring to breathe.

Meanwhile, the little boy, who had been called over to bow and then dismissed, immediately looked sullen. He stomped his foot angrily and turned to run outside.

“Ah, ah!”

Viscount Joann stomped his foot, his face full of annoyance. Garrett maintained a troubled expression, watching the child leave. Serella’s gaze shifted, and she stifled a light laugh:

Come on, if you really wanted to take him, would the Lord of Thunder care? You’re just using your teacher as a shield!

Bernard looked left and right, then boldly grabbed a handful of biscuits and crunched them noisily into his mouth.

After a long while, Viscount Joann swallowed and managed a forced laugh. Ah, what a pity, this Mage Nordmark seems so humble and gentle, but he’s really tough to speak with. He had no choice but to try and steer the conversation back:

“Well, it seems my boy isn’t lucky, hahaha… Mage Sir, it’s alright if you don’t take disciples, but these estates and properties, you really must accept them!”

He leaned forward slightly, pushing a map towards Garrett. Garrett firmly held down the map:

“Unearned rewards are not accepted. Viscount Sir, I haven’t done anything for you, so there’s no reason to accept your gifts; besides, I will be leaving soon and won’t need them. I appreciate your kind intentions.”

Another attempt at persuasion failed. Fortunately, as a noble, Viscount Joann had no other skills, but his thick skin sufficed. Unflustered and undeterred, he calmly continued:

“Then, Mage Nordmark, could you possibly help me with a favor? It’s like this, on my lands, there are a few villages where the villagers have contracted a strange illness…”

“Oh? What kind of strange illness? How many are sick? How long has it been?”

Garrett was indeed very interested, leaning in with concern, firing off several questions. Even the silver-haired lady, who had been all smiles, now listened intently.

A glint of triumph flashed in Viscount Joann’s eyes as he pulled the map towards him, and began to explain in detail:

Whether Garrett could solve it or not, he would use this as an excuse to push the estate onto him!

Push the shops onto him!

Having properties would create ties, and as long as he had his own properties in Hartland City, he would think of coming back to visit often. Hartland City could then borrow his strength!

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