The meal was great.
At least Michael thought so.
The discussion that accompanied it was just as enjoyable.
It was pleasant, even relaxing, but to Michael, that was mostly it.
Given his relationship with Mage Lian, it wasn’t that sharing a meal was unusual.
In fact, they had done so at the start of their acquaintance.
However, it had never been to the extent of chatting like old friends.
Michael knew that Mage Lian wanted something from him—or rather, wanted to say something to him.
He was puzzled by the attempt at familiarity—or at least, that’s what he suspected it was.
To him, Mage Lian was likely just setting the mood.
And he was right.
“Does Sir Mic still have any intention of competing in the Duke of Evermoon’s competition?”
Michael’s hand paused.
The duke’s competition.
Hearing it again made him feel conflicted.
The entire thing had just been a convenient lie—a simple excuse he’d used to meet Mage Lian a few days ago during their first encounter.
In truth, he had absolutely no interest in the competition.
For one, the prize itself was disappointing.
Every conversation he had overheard about the event revolved around the duke’s daughter—who she was and who might win the competition to marry her.
Aside from his instinctive resistance to the idea of fighting for a woman, even knowing there were other prizes, Michael had come to the Land of Origin for opportunities to grow stronger—not to find a wife.
However, despite his true thoughts, he gave the opposite answer.
“Yes, Mage Lian.”
He still had to maintain the lie—at least for a little longer—before he could show the same indifference he had before.
Still, he wondered, Why is he asking me this?
Mage Lian smiled at Michael’s response, a hint of relief flashing across his face—something Michael didn’t miss. His suspicion grew.
But Mage Lian wasn’t done. He continued,
“Does Sir Mic have any idea what the prizes for the competition are if you win?”
“The hand in marriage to the duke’s daughter?”
“Oh? Is Sir Mic interested in the princess?”
“Not really.”
Michael felt it would be rude to outright say no, so he opted for a more roundabout response. But his bluntness still made the Grand Mage’s lips twitch.
“Cough, cough… So, Sir Mic doesn’t know about the other rewards for securing first place?”
Mage Lian returned to his previous query.
Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.
Mage Lian was acting strange. From the moment the knight had left, his demeanor had changed. Michael could tell that the other party had something specific in mind to say to him.
Yet, it seemed Mage Lian was either struggling to say it outright or was deliberately being subtle.
Unfortunately, while Michael had time, he also didn’t have time for this.
“Mage Lian should just say what he wants to say.”
Mage Lian sighed, a conflicted smile forming on his aged face.
He knew he was rushing things. He knew this could ruin his relationship with Michael.
But he had no choice.
If he didn’t act soon, he might die.
The Soul Pool Fruit was indeed a wondrous treasure. It had expanded his mana pool to terrifying levels, even opening a unique space within him.
But great gains often came with great losses.
At first, he hadn’t noticed anything wrong. But upon returning to the flying ship, the truth became glaringly clear—his body was deteriorating.
Yes, deteriorating.
Just like Michael, Mage Lian’s body—the container for his vast mana—was no longer sufficient.
But unlike Michael, he wasn’t an Awakener, whose strength wasn’t limited by predefined stats. He had no emergency attribute points to stabilize his condition.
Ironically, while his increased mana pool should have granted him a longer lifespan and greater strength, it was now the very thing threatening to kill him.
Devastated, he had scoured his vast memory for a solution.
And then he recalled something—
Among the revealed prizes for the Duke of Evermoon’s Competition was a treasure coveted by all knights below the Great Stage.
For mages, it was even more precious.
It could grant them a stronger physique, reinforcing their fragile bodies and reducing their inherent weaknesses.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t just ask the duke for the treasure—there were too many complications.
Nor could he participate in the competition himself—for even more obvious reasons.
Mage Lian took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Sir Mic, the competition’s rewards are not as simple as they seem. While the duke’s daughter is indeed one of the prizes, that is not what I am interested in.”
Michael remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
“Among the rewards for the champion of the competition is something called the Titan’s Heart Elixir. It is a rare alchemical creation, known to significantly enhance the physique of those who consume it. For knights, it strengthens their endurance and physical capabilities, making their bodies as tough as steel. But for mages… it is even more valuable.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “And you want me to win it for you?”
Mage Lian let out a weary chuckle. “You are sharp as ever, Sir Mic. Yes, that is precisely what I am asking.”
Michael leaned back in his chair, processing the information.
He had never cared much for the competition, but hearing about this elixir made him reassess its worth.
Still, he wasn’t the kind to fight someone else’s battles without good reason.
“And what do I get out of it?” Michael asked, his tone neutral but firm.
Mage Lian nodded, seemingly expecting the question. “I will not ask you to do this for free. If you agree, I will provide you with something of equal value in return. Whether it be rare magical knowledge, artifacts, or a favor of great significance—you will have my full support.”
Michael studied the old mage.
The desperation in his eyes was clear, though he tried to mask it with composure.
This was not a simple request.
After a brief silence, Michael spoke. “I’ll think about it.”
Mage Lian exhaled slowly, nodding in understanding. “That is all I ask. Take your time, Sir Mic. But remember, the competition is drawing near. Decisions must be made soon.”
Michael gave a small nod before rising to his feet.
“I’ll be heading to my room now, Mage Lian.”
“Yes, of course. Let the knight escort you.”
As Mage Lian spoke, he rang a small bell placed in front of him.
‘So that’s what it’s for,’ Michael mused as the door opened and the knight from earlier stepped inside.
“Take Sir Mic to his room, please.”
There were only three visitors aboard the flying ship—Mage Lian, Michael, and Master Yuan.
As knights responsible for the vessel, many of them were well aware of the rooms assigned to the three guests.
The knight gave a short nod before motioning for Michael to follow.
Without a word, they stepped into the hallway, the heavy door closing behind them with a dull thud.
Michael walked in silence, his mind heavy with thought.
He wasn’t a fool—he knew exactly what was happening to Mage Lian.
After consuming the Soul Pool Fruit himself, he had experienced firsthand the overwhelming expansion of his mana pool.
His body had struggled to contain it, forcing him to use his unallocated attribute points to stabilize himself.
Mage Lian, however, didn’t have that luxury.
The old mage must have realized something was wrong only after it was too late. And now, he was trying to use Michael to fix it.
It wasn’t that Michael didn’t sympathize—he did.
But here comes the issue.
Why should he help when he was dealing with the same problem?
His own body was far from optimal.
The Soul Pool Fruit had granted him immense benefits, but his constitution still lagged behind, struggling to keep up.
And yet, Mage Lian either hadn’t noticed or simply didn’t care.
This was where Michael was conflicted.
‘Why should I help him when I need it just as much?’
As far as Michael was concerned, he didn’t seem to owe Mage Lian any favours and if anything, with his assistance with acquiring the soul pool fruits, he had repaid any debts.
Still, the Titan’s Heart Elixir was tempting.
If what Mage Lian said was true, it could be exactly what he needed to strengthen his own body.
The competition itself might be a hassle, but if he played things right, he could walk away with something valuable.
‘Should I join the competition?’ Michael couldn’t help but seriously ponder about it now.
The knight stopped in front of a door and pushed it open. “Your room, Sir Mic.”
Michael nodded and stepped inside without another word.
Michael sat on the edge of his bed, his mind still replaying the conversation with Mage Lian.
The old mage’s request weighed on him.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
The Titan’s Heart Elixir.
A treasure that could reinforce a mage’s frail body, enhancing their physical resilience.
It was, without a doubt, a tempting prize—one that could help him stabilize his own condition.
But that was the issue.
Why should he help Mage Lian secure something he needed just as much?