"Your Excellency, the gathering won’t start for a little while. How about I introduce you to a few... hmm, friends?"
"That’s not necessary," Wei’en refused. "You go ahead. I’m fine just looking around on my own."
"As you wish." Flanta showed no dissatisfaction. He turned, took a few steps, then suddenly seed to rember sothing and turned back. "Um..."
"Is there sothing else I need to be aware of?" Wei’en asked, looking at him in confusion.
"No, that’s not it. It’s just... I still don’t know your na..." The words had barely left his mouth when Flanta hurriedly explained, "Please, don’t misunderstand. I an, here in the tower, how should I address you?"
’A na...’
’Now that’s a problem.’
Wei’en thought for a mont, then said, "Faceless."
In the Nightmare Realm World, everyone was just a blurry black shadow, faceless. The na Faceless was quite fitting.
"Faceless... Understood, His Excellency Faceless."
Having received the answer he sought, Flanta gave a respectful bow and turned to walk toward so acquaintances.
Even though his body was distorted and illusory, his bowing motion was still discernible.
After Flanta left, Wei’en scanned the area, then walked to a corner by himself. He positioned himself behind a stone pillar and gazed out of the tower.
’Faceless... Crownless...’
He hoped to beco an uncrowned king in this world, to witness and record its marvels—or perhaps, to beco a marvel himself!
"This place... it’s so high."
Wei’en hadn’t felt it when he was at the base of the tower, but now that he was actually inside, he was struck by a feeling of insignificance.
From a height of several hundred ters, the black shadows below were just tiny black dots.
But that wasn’t what shocked him most. What truly stunned him was the clear realization that this floor was likely just the beginning, a re starting point in the context of the entire tower.
’If this was a real building, what sort of person could have built such a tower?’
’Besides...’ Recalling the rune nodes he had seen on the tower’s exterior, Wei’en felt a surge of respect for its creator.
With this in mind, he scanned his surroundings and found a damaged section near the outer wall. He moved closer to carefully observe the patterns within.
’Sure enough, it’s Sar tal—a special tal used exclusively for engraving runes.’
He drew a sharp breath. ’A full ter wide.’
The tower’s wall was about ten ters thick, and the damaged section was nearly three ters wide. Within it, he could see two Rune Patterns spaced a ter apart.
’Which ans the wall most likely contains five one-ter-wide strips of Sar tal...’
’Oh my God, how many gold pounds would this much Sar tal be worth?’
Wei’en pressed himself against the wall, his red eyes wide. He no longer saw the silvery-gray Sar tal, but a glittering vein of pure gold pounds.
’If I could just take it with ...’
’It seems the things in this dream world really can awaken one’s deepest, most intense desires.’
While Wei’en was hunched over in the corner, contemplating the possibility of taking Sar tal from the Nightmare Realm World back to reality, Flanta was speaking in hushed tones with several Wizards he had t before.
"He’s the one you were talking about?"
"Yes." Flanta’s gaze flickered. "Lance Mage, he’s the Wizard I ntioned, an expert in Magic Potions. His na is Faceless."
Lance Mage’s distorted, illusory form was a full size larger than Flanta’s, and his silhouette was much more defined. A pair of silver eyes glowed with a faint red light, giving him a sinister air.
The large number 36 on his forehead placed him in the upper-middle tier of this 49th floor, making Flanta, whose Origin Power had yet to reach 20, extrely cautious.
"Faceless... I rember you said last ti that his Origin Power was 22?"
Lance Mage’s tone was tinged with dissatisfaction; he clearly didn’t believe a Wizard could raise their Origin Power from 22 to 34 in such a short ti.
Flanta hesitated before bowing his head. "My apologies. I-I misspoke. A few days ago, his Origin Power was only 32..."
He chose not to insist on the truth, instead going along with Lance Mage and admitting his "mistake."
Answering this way would not only save him so trouble, but it also showed his respect for Faceless Mage.
"32... Flanta, where is your caution? Your ticulousness? Discarding such fine qualities will only make your path as a Wizard more difficult."
"You are right to correct ."
Lance Mage shot him a glare and huffed, "Still, raising one’s Origin Power by 2 points in four days is not bad."
"Indeed,"
A Wizard with the number 35 on his forehead, standing beside Lance, chuckled. "For us to achieve such an increase, we’d need a minister-level Holy Professional at the very least."
"I just wonder if he can create any Magic Potions besides the basic ones. I happen to be researching the subject of flesh and blood aberration and require certain potions to assist my work."
"Sico, have you already started the second step?"
"I’m always following closely in your footsteps, not daring to fall behind."
"I’m sure our teacher would be very pleased to hear that," Lance said approvingly, before glancing at Flanta. "As our teacher’s student, Flanta, you are not working hard enough."
"Yes. I will work harder to catch up to you and Sico Mage," Flanta said, bowing his head once more.
’Not working hard enough? As if. It’s all because of those Holy Professional corpses our teacher left for you...’
"See that you do. Now, about this Faceless—what else do you know?"
"Besides basic Magic Potions, last ti we traded, he gave so Illusion Potions and concealnt potions. Several of those bottles were even perfect-grade."
"Illusion?"
Sico sounded astonished. "The difficulty of creating those is much higher. Are you sure he’s the one who made them?"
"I believe so..."
"Lance?"
Lance t Sico’s gaze and considered for a mont. "If he can truly create perfect-grade potions, then I have no objection to entrusting him with the task."
"Then it’s settled."
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