Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations
Sargeras’ shoulders shook wildly in his effort to hold back his laughter. He covered his mouth to smother his voice, but still a snort of amusement came bursting out through his nose without his permission.
He might have guffawed if he hadn’t known better.
The customers nearby glanced at the demon who was easily amused and had terrifying laughter, and changed their seats to stay away from Sargeras—even if they had to share a table with strangers.
Despite his thick hide, Krassu gave a dry smile in abashment as he felt the stares. When he was about to say something to put an end to this awkward moment, Mag put a plate of fried rice before him. “Your Yangzhou fried rice,” he said, smiling.
Krassu’s eyes lit up immediately when he saw Mag. “Mag, how did you conjure up such an interesting little elf?” he asked. He was using Mag to shift their uncomfortable gaze. Besides, he was indeed very curious about this toy.
It shouldn’t be magic, because I can’t sense any around it. But if it’s not magic, how can it sing? It’s impossible for it to move by itself, Krassu thought.
Other customers were afire with curiosity by then. They were all staring at Mag, wondering. Who the hell is he? Not only can he cook, he is able to conjure up such an exquisite toy. Is he really a powerful magic caster?
“This is not usual magic. There are other things involved. It’s difficult to explain in detail. I’m afraid maybe you can’t understand,” Mag answered.
“You might be right,” Krassu said, feeling a little despised. Yet when he opened his mouth, the words would not come. He found Mag might have a point. He had been dealing with magic all his life, so he knew little about other things.
Even his social skills were awful. As such a powerful magic caster, he should have had geniuses lining up at his door asking to become his disciples, but in fact, he had to travel long and far to look for a disciple at such an old age.
To make matters worse, he had been ridiculed for his effort to check a restaurateur’s daughter’s talent.
Seeing that the old man didn’t intend to ask more questions, Mag turned to walk towards the kitchen. He had prepared many mechanical theories for his questions. Although they were just something he had learned in college, it should prove more than effective to impress the people here—he had graduated from one of the top 20 engineering universities in the world.
Amy gave Mag a sweet smile, quite proud of herself.
Mag looked down at his greasy hands and didn’t stroke Amy’s hair. He smiled back, eyes full of fondness, and went into the kitchen.
Amy’s response had been impeccable. She had done everything Mag had taught her and more. She might have made Krassu doubt himself.
Harrison looked at Mag’s back. “Magic caster or not, Mag is incredible,” he said as he took a bite of his roujiamo, his fat shaking.
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“Agreed.” Gjergj nodded, his fat shaking as well. “I wonder if Mag will sell that. Parmer would be happy to see it,” he muttered, staring at the music box in spite of himself.
Other customers took a glance at the two fatties, whose fat were dancing wildly, and nodded thoughtfully. Mag is truly incredible.
Sargeras managed to hold back his laughter. He felt even hungrier. Once he would have shouted at the owner and threatened to smash the restaurant, but today, he was waiting patiently.
After all, even a 10th-tier magic caster had to suck it up here. He might be grumpy, but he hadn’t got into any big trouble journeying 50 years on this continent. He was pretty reasonable, actually.
When other customers were enjoying their meals and stopped paying attention to him, Krassu took several bites of his fried rice and gazed at Amy, who was stroking the kitten’s head while staring at the little elf in the music box. He started scheming again.
After he thought a moment, Krassu looked at Amy and smiled. “Little girl, what we have just talked about doesn’t matter. What really matters is that someday bad things might happen, whether they be an act of God or an act of man. At moments like those, the powerful ones can protect themselves and their loved ones. I, for one, have such power. Do you not want to learn magic to protect the ones you love?”
Amy thought for a moment and turned to look at Mag in the kitchen. “I want to protect my father,” she said, with determined eyes.
“Meow…” cried out Ugly Duckling as it lifted its head, trying to remind Amy of its existence.
“You’re not included,” Amy said, pushing its little head down.
“Meow, meow…” the kitten cried out disappointedly in a soft voice as if it had been wounded.
“That’s right,” said Krassu, nodding with a smile. “If you want to protect someone, you have to be powerful yourself. And you will be if you learn from me.” He was trying to make himself look like a kind, reliable master.
Although he had said some similar words yesterday and got rejected directly by Mag, he really wanted to make sure whether or not Amy had the talent. If she was really talented and fit to be his disciple, he would do his best to gratify Mag’s requirements. He would be dead in several years, so there was little he cared about.
Amy nodded. “I think you’re right.” But before Krassu could smile, Amy added doubtfully, “But white-bearded grandpa, you can’t even walk with ease. You can’t protect yourself, and you want to teach me to protect my father? Protect him from whom? Kids like me?”
“Well…” The look on Krassu’s face became odd again. What’s going on in her head? Why is she not like other kids?
Besides, do I look like I can only protect his father from kids?! Krassu raised an eyebrow.
He had fought an orc when he was only 18. He had smashed his staff on the head of a giant dragon when he was 24. It was a weak green dragon, though. But he was at his peak after all. He would never harm a child.
“If you don’t trust me, you can use any magic on me. I’ll just sit here and won’t move,” Krassu said confidently as he slapped his chest.
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