Chapter 214

Chapter 214

"Ah! No!!!"

Garrett almost flew out with Mage Walton. Of course, one was forcibly ejected, and the other rushed out on his own; one fell backwards in horror, while the other leaned to the side, hands outstretched, desperately trying to grab hold. But human nerve responses have limits. Despite Garrett’s frantic efforts, his fingertips still fell short of Mage Walton...

"Ah..."

A sigh echoed softly. Then, Garrett saw Mage Walton’s body flying through the air, slowing down, slowing down, like falling into a pile of cotton, leaning strangely in mid-air. Well, if you didn’t consider gender, it was quite graceful...

In the corner of his eye, Archmage Carlisle’s senior disciple, the silver-haired mage, quietly withdrew his hand. The others rushed forward, pressing down, supporting, desperately restraining their own teacher:

"Master! Calm down! Calm down!"

With this buffer, Garrett finally managed to rescue the person safely. Checking his eyelids, pressing his chest, making sure there were no life-threatening injuries, he released the patient, turned around, and confronted Archmage Carlisle aggressively:

"How dare you hit someone! And a patient at that! Just healed!!!"

If not for the air cushion behind him! If the person had hit the wall directly! At that speed, with that impact, a few broken bones would be nothing! If it caused a head injury or a spinal fracture, he had nothing on hand, he couldn’t treat it at all!

Garrett leaned forward, trying to widen his eyes as much as possible, making an effort to hide his guilt. Archmage Carlisle was a level 14 grand mage, his savior, and the one who disciplined his disciples. Garrett really had no grounds to reprimand him...

But the patient was someone he had just painstakingly saved! He had performed a tracheostomy, administered oxygen, and cast a multitude of healing spells, bringing him back from the brink of death! He had pumped the air for half an hour, and his hands were still trembling! Garrett persuaded himself like this, trying to straighten his small stature as a level 2 mage and level 1 warrior. You can scold me, but you can’t hit my patient! The patient I just healed, under no circumstances should he be hit in front of me!

To his surprise, Archmage Carlisle did not get angry at his attitude. Instead, he sighed deeply, shook off the arms of his disciples, and suddenly bowed deeply to Garrett.

"Master, please don’t!" Garrett was so frightened that he almost jumped up. If he had the attribute of a snow leopard, he would probably have been able to jump three feet in the air. He fumbled to go up and help, but Archmage Carlisle had already straightened up, looking ashamed:

"It’s my incompetence as a teacher! Garrett, I owe you an apology. I’ve raised such a student who dares to imitate others without permission!"

"It’s not really imitation..." It was just the content of a high school chemistry textbook. Garrett’s voice grew quieter and quieter. As Archmage Carlisle strode past him, he raised his hand, and a transparent giant palm rose again, lifting up his own disciple:

"Tell me! Where did you go wrong!"

"I..." Aurora Worton, having experienced two brushes with death in a row, was now swaying unsteadily. He glanced quickly at his teacher, lowered his head, stole a glance at Garrett, his face turning red then pale in an instant:

"I... I violated the rules of the Magic Council... Doing someone else’s experiment without authorization, without legal exchange, I shouldn’t have done it..."Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com

The Magic Council had always been strict about protecting the unique achievements of mages, or, in a modern sense, intellectual property rights. In the early days of ignorance, every mage treasured their unique magic dearly. If someone was found to be stealing, it was even legal to take private measures – that is, to beat the person to death.

Of course, whether one could actually beat them to death was another matter entirely.

Adhering to the rules, leaving room for the disciple, and soothing the victim, everything was perfect... as long as the victim truly agreed...

"The council’s punishment should also consider my opinion!" Garrett blocked Mage Walton’s path, insisting on not letting him leave:

"I’m the one who had his experiment stolen! I have the right to speak! Your Excellency, you saved my life before, and you’ve taken care of me these days, I’m really grateful to you... Your disciple just imitated a small experiment, it’s really nothing, there’s no need for this!"

Archmage Carlisle hesitated. The mages in the room saw it clearly – their teacher’s dark and angry aura softened, his face becoming gentler:

"Saving you is my duty, you don’t need to thank me! Punishment is also a rule, it can’t be replaced with personal favors! Garrett, remember my favor, don’t report this to the council, and I’ll be very grateful!"

"But..."

When it came to the rules of the council, Garrett really couldn’t argue against them – after all, he was just a level 2 mage, while the other was a level 14 grand mage who had the qualifications to enter the review board and modify a few unimportant rules. However, this was really going too far...

Garrett subconsciously looked around.

Mage Walton looked at him eagerly, with a pleading expression, his bright golden hair drooping sadly, seeming to have lost some of its luster. Of course, Garrett wasn’t sure if those strands had been discolored by chlorine...

Beside Archmage Carlisle, the disciples stood one by one, looking at their teacher, then at Garrett, lips opening and closing, hesitant. The silver-haired mage stepped forward at the right moment:

"Master, Aurora has almost died twice today, and he has learned his lesson. Since Mr. Nordmark said so, let Aurora follow him."

"Yes, master..."

"The New Continent is too far away..."

"The sea is rough, I heard a ship sank last month..."

The disciples spoke up one after another, trying to persuade. Archmage Carlisle looked from left to right, then from right to left, finally easing his frown, pointing to his own disciple:

"From today, for three years, no, five years! Within five years, you are Garrett’s follower, do whatever he asks you to do!"

Mage Walton’s face lit up as if he had received a pardon, quickly turning around and bowing to Garrett. Garrett reached out to help him, but as he looked at Walton’s face, he couldn’t help but be distracted:

The second follower?

Would this clean and handsome young mage get along with Bernard?

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