Warlock Apprentice

“Ha. I’ll not.” Dave looked determined.

Prome watched the conversation between the two kids with a grin. He was glad that Angor was a friend of his assistant. He was always satisfied with Dave’s swift reactions when dealing with people. To Prome, Dave’s relation with Angor only made his assistant more valuable to him.

“Once I get the request done, maybe I can give Dave some proper training,” Prome thought to himself.

“Blackjack kinda messed everything up. I was going to ask, what did you come for today? And don’t tell me you’re here to see Master Prome. Master never planned to come today,” Dave said.

“Oh oops… I almost forgot about it myself,” said Angor as he scratched his hair. “I came to thank you and Master Prome for saving me. But I ran into some problems on the way, and I need to buy a wizard robe now.”

Angor explained his experience in the tailor shop.

Prome smiled. “A wizard robe is only a basic alchemy item, but it’s already considered tiered. Only an apprentice alchemist can make one. Of course, ordinary tailors don’t have them.”

“Sorry, but we don’t have robes in the shop,” Dave spoke, “but I can lend you mine if you don’t mind.”

Angor pondered. He found it awkward to use someone else’ robe. But… he only needed the robe for a day. Since he was already wearing Sunders’ clothes now, borrowing Dave’s robe should not be a serious problem.

Prome suddenly spoke again, “I still have the wizard robe that I received from the resource hall as a new recruit, and I no longer need it. You can have it if you need one.”

Angor quickly waved his hands. “Not for free please, I’ll pay for it.”

Prome did not insist. He only needed to leave a good impression on Angor, and he did enough.

“Okay then. It’s left there for over forty years now, and it gets some damages here and there. I certainly can’t ask too much for it. How about two magic crystals?”

Angor did not know how the robe usually went on the market. However, since every apprentice could claim one, it should not be anything expensive.

“Of course. I don’t have crystals on me though, can I use my bone card?”

“Sure.”

After transferring the points, Prome found a dust-covered box out of a corner.

Despite its container, the wizard robe Prome took out from the box looked pretty clean.

“Thank goodness the robe comes with a Dust Removal spell, or it would have rotted away with the box. It’ll be a big embarrassment for me,” Prome joked while handling the robe to Angor.

Angor looked at the robe in his hands and did not know what to say.

The robe was freaking purple! A shiny, pinkish purple color usually seen on certain perverts!

There were no other patterns on the robe, but its color already gave Angor a headache. He did not really have a problem with purple. In fact, Angor had several purple handkerchiefs because he believed purple was for someone mysterious, quiet, and calm. This robe, however, had a completely different hue on it. He had never seen such “showy” purple in his life!

Angor looked at Prome’s current robe, which was of the same color and had glittering golden and silver charms as decoration.

When seeing Prome for the first time, Angor thought that this man’s “shiny purple” wizard robe was only a special selection which did not mean anything particular. His brother Leon happened to have a pink undershirt with lace trimmings in his wardrobe. Wearing it occasionally did not give Angor any funny idea about his brother.

Angor did not expect that “Master Prome” possessed such a bizarre taste when the man actually looked quite gentle on the outside.

“You don’t like it? There was only one purple robe left in the hall, but I still managed to grab it.” Prome’s middle-aged face revealed a smile as if a kid successfully bought a limited-edition game from a toy shop.

“It-it’s fine!” Angor forced a smile.

It’s only one day! I can do it!

Angor could already imagine how “Baron Milk” would earn another word in his title, and that would probably be “pervert” or “freak”. There was no chance that this robe would earn him ANY good name.

The bell tower announced the arrival of midnight, and Angor prepared to bid them farewell.

“I’ll go and cheer for you tomorrow!” Dave waved a hand behind Angor’s back.

Angor stumbled a little and turned around. “No need, really. I won’t fight myself anyway.”

Seriously, he did not want to make any movement on the stage at all in the purple robe.

Dave took out a stack of tickets from his pocket. “I’ve bought tickets for all your matches!”

Angor let out a silly laugh and left the shop quickly.

…

The next day, Angor fully witnessed how “Baron Milk” was hated by people.

Before his match, some fighters already gathered up to yell at him. When he moved closer, those people fell silent and only stared at him with either fear or disgust.

And entering a match only gained Angor more invasive curses.

Most seats were empty, but those who came to watch were all looking at him with killing intent. Angor did not see any female audiences who “supported him” according to Number 233. Probably scared away by his terrible robe color, if there were any at all.

Angor endured the harsh screams directed at him. He really did not expect that he would become the enemy of so many people in such a short time.

Thankfully, he was always good at tolerating stress. Someone else in his boots would probably lose their sanity and cried.

His opponent stayed silent during the waiting phase and did not say anything to offend Angor. It was likely that he was afraid of Toby, who would not hesitate to turn him into another corpse.

There were still people who used verbal harassment, and Angor did plan to get rid of them once and for all. However, they instantly surrendered the second the match started without even giving Angor any chance to move. Also, they all left the stage while enjoying the praise and cheers of the audience as if they were the winners.

Such stupidity.

Under the manipulation of Sky Tower, Angor’s opponents today were all weaker cowards. He seized eleven victories without running into a single enemy who put up a fight.

After his last “match”, the shiny purple robe of Baron Milk had become a flying mosquito in people’s dreams which would keep bothering them in their sleep.

Angor took his profile card for Level 15 from Baroque, which finally announced the end of his challenge.

“I see you’ve completed your goal, kid. Will you come again?” Baroque closed his pornographic book and smiled at Angor.

“I don’t know,” Angor scoffed. He was glad he chose to give Baron Milk an indifferent and unfriendly character. He could not think of other ways to talk to Baroque.

“A piece of advice for a promising young man. You’ll encounter someone completely different in Level 15. It’ll be difficult to get over them just using a bird who knows the sequence of gravity.”

Baroque was still smiling, but his words contained a hint of threat.

Under his hood, Angor’s eyes glimmered with hatred.

“Is that so? Thanks,” Angor spoke in the same cold tone and turned to leave.

Baroque watched him go and grew a bit puzzled.

“I was… expecting a different attitude from him.”

The figure of a decent-looking woman appeared behind Baroque.

“The Green Velvet spores in his body vanished. It must be Sunders who can deal with them so quickly. Also, Sunders sent a phantom servant to fight matches in his place. It seems Angor is really important to that man.”

“Sunders should know that we can recognize his servant, and he still did so. Maybe he’s warning us as well,” Baroque replied.

“You mean… Sunders already learned about our connection with Bouy?”

“I don’t know. He probably didn’t. He was just warning us since his student got wounded so badly in Sky Tower,” Baroque pondered. “Well, he’s on the top floor now. I don’t think anything’s going to happen.”

“I see. I’m wondering though… If Sunders wants to protect Angor, why doesn’t he simply give the kid a ticket to the garden instead of allowing Angor to risk his life in the tower?”

“Who knows… Have you learned anything from your end, Melantha?” With Angor’s matter done, Baroque asked something else in a serious tone.

“A little, and I’m not sure it’s related to the quarantine of that place,” Melantha answered.

“Go ahead.”

“Samantha sent her scout avatar to Rein Mute, and Rein went to Phantom Island yesterday. After that, Rein sealed the place up.”

“We know what Samantha wants. Sunders’ Sorcerer’s Garden,” Baroque scoffed. “The fools want to go for the offspring of the very grand demon… Such insolence. I don’t think Rein would ask Sunders to join, or they’ll lose more than the lives of a few people.”

Baroque frowned. “This has nothing to do with the quarantine though. Is there something involved which we don’t know about?”

…

Angor left Sky Tower and slowly got over his rage against Baroque.

It was a miserable day. He would never come to the tower ever again regardless of Baroque’s taunt.

It was 5:30 p.m. in the afternoon. Those who saw his matches could recognize him easily thanks to the bizarre color on him.

On his way back, Angor received all kinds of attention as well as a group of stalkers who clearly did not come to show hospitality.

He walked to somewhere far-off and before the stalkers could even realize what he wanted to do, Angor ordered Toby to go for them.

Under Toby’s absolute speed advantage, they were all sitting ducks who quickly became a pile of motionless bodies in a matter of minutes.

Angor did not tell Toby to hold back, and he did not know whether they were dead, nor did he care at all. Angor made sure that no one could stand up and follow him before he spat in disgust and left the area.