When the old elf spoke, the room fell silent. It was as if the air itself had frozen, thick with the weight of his words. Every eye was on him, disbelief etched into their faces.
Jane and Begon stood frozen in place, staring blankly at the old elf. Though his appearance was nothing like that of the elegant, ageless elves one might expect, there was no denying it, he was a legend. Not just any legend, but one whose name was spoken with reverence across the land.
To become a legend is the dream of countless warriors and mages. It's a goal so distant, most never even come close. Many would sacrifice everything, spending their lives in relentless pursuit of that status. And yet, here they stood, in the presence of a being who had achieved it.
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Fisher, standing nearby, was just as shocked as the others. His mind raced as he replayed the old elf's words. Becoming a legendary student had been his obsession. He'd worked tirelessly, even going so far as to make secret pacts with the elf Pleti, doing whatever it took to gain favor. After much negotiation and persuasion, the old elf had finally agreed to mentor him.
But Logan? How was this even possible?
Logan, just a ten-year-old boy, already a level seven warrior? It defied logic. Fisher had spent years training, struggling, and compromising to climb the ranks. Yet Logan had achieved the impossible in a fraction of the time. The speed of his rise left Fisher feeling uneasy. How could someone so young advance so quickly?
Was this what true genius looked like? Even for a prodigy, this pace was unheard of.
Fisher's thoughts turned inward, particularly fixating on his brother-in-law's swift ascent. How had Logan managed to get so far, so fast? It gnawed at him.
And yet, as shocked as everyone else was, Logan himself seemed oddly calm. A living legend offering to take him on as a student? For anyone else, this would be the opportunity of a lifetime; an unparalleled honor.
But Logan hesitated.
He wasn't just any ten-year-old warrior. He carried with him something far more valuable: a cheat, a system that guaranteed his rapid rise. Even now, he was on the cusp of breaking through to the eighth level, with the ninth not far behind. Did he truly need a legendary mentor when he had this unstoppable power at his fingertips?
He glanced at his personal stats in the back of his mind:
Name: Logan
Age: 10 years old
Occupation: Level 7 Warrior (Experience 98/100) (Reputation 9,678/10,000) (Practice 3/10)
First-level Ice Magician (Experience 98/100) (Reputation 9,678/10,000) (Practice 7/10)
Position: Chieftain of the Silvermane Tribe
Population: 64,373
Military Strength: 2,216 Infantry, 1,236 Wolf Riders, 500 Boar Riders, 27 Thunderbird Riders, 14 Wyvern Riders, 8,000 Reserve Infantry
Territory: 2,020 square kilometers
Mall: (opened)
He let out a soft sigh, the hint of regret in his voice clear. "It's a shame," he said with a smile, "that the little werewolf here won't become my student. I could have guaranteed myself a lifetime of your excellent wines."
Logan had no idea about the old elf's true motives for offering him mentorship, but he knew how to handle the situation. In the face of the elf's praise, he flashed a humble smile and replied, "Sir Legend, it is a great honor for our Silvermane Tribe to host you. If you would be so kind, I would be delighted to share some wine with you later, and make sure you can drink to your heart's content!"
He knew well enough that if the old elf had a fondness for wine, it was best to appeal to it. After all, a drunkard's heart was often won through drink.
The elf's face lit up with amusement. "Just wine, no need for those formalities," he said, waving off any pomp or ceremony.
"Haha, of course!" Logan responded with a grin, turning to his uncle Lot. "Second Uncle, go prepare a banquet, and make sure to bring out our best wines."
Lot nodded swiftly. "Right away!" he said, and hurried off to see the preparations done.
It wasn't long before the feast began.
At the banquet, Logan and his brother-in-law Fisher talked at length about the newest wines being brewed in the tribe, their conversation lively with excitement over flavors and techniques. But as for the old elf? He had other priorities. Bucket after bucket of wine passed his way, and he drank with abandon, showing not even a shred of concern for appearances.
He downed each one as if the wine were water, his legendary status doing little to curb his indulgence.
What should have been a brief affair stretched on far longer than anyone expected. The elf, having consumed hundreds of kilograms of wine, was still unsatisfied, his thirst seemingly unquenchable. Logan could do little but wait, keeping the party going out of respect.
Finally, as night settled over the Silvermane Tribe, the legendary elf's energy began to wane. Sated at last, he found himself a comfortable corner, sprawled out, and fell into a deep, drunken slumber.
...
Later, as Logan and Jane walked side by side on their way home, the night air cool around them, Jane couldn't contain her curiosity any longer.
"When did you break through to level seven?" she asked, her eyes wide with a mix of amazement and suspicion.
She couldn't help it; she had been dying to know. Just a few months ago, the man she had chosen to love had only been at level four. Back then, she had been the stronger of the two. Now, in the blink of an eye or so it seemed, he had surpassed her, leaping from the fourth to the seventh level in half a year. It was unheard of.
"Last month," Logan replied, feigning a casual tone. "I think it was because of the Dragon Blood Potion."
He was quick to mention the potion, using it as a convenient excuse. After all, blaming his sudden rise on a rare and powerful elixir was the simplest way to explain it away without raising further questions.
Jane narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice laced with playful frustration, though there was a hint of hurt behind it. Her brow furrowed as she gazed up at him. "You kept it from me?"
Logan chuckled, sensing her doubt but choosing to keep things light. "You didn't ask," he teased, reaching out to gently pinch her ear.
Jane frowned in mock offense, though her lips twitched into a smile. "How was I supposed to ask if you didn't tell me in the first place?"
"If you don't ask, how am I supposed to know you want to know?" Logan retorted with a laugh, enjoying the banter.
Jane rolled her eyes but couldn't help laughing along. Though a part of her still wondered if the Dragon Blood Potion alone could really explain his rapid ascent, she let the moment pass, content to enjoy the quiet walk with the man who had, in such a short time, become stronger than she could have ever imagined.