A familiar face.
Mage Lian.
The old man greeted Michael with a smile that was almost… affectionate.
It was a little unsettling, but Michael had a good idea why.
That warmth wasn't directed at him personally—it was aimed at what he carried with him.
There was no reason for Mage Lian to feel fondness toward him otherwise, and Michael was certain the mage didn't swing the other way.
It could only be because of the Titan Potion he had with him. .
And he was right.
It was exactly because of what he had to offer.
"So, Sir Mic?" Mage Lian spoke in a knowing tone after a brief greeting and offering Michael a seat.
Michael couldn't help but mentally shake his head. The old mage didn't even bother to pretend or make small talk. But Michael couldn't blame him.
With all that unstable mana roiling inside him that it could kill him, the fact that Mage Lian still had time to greet him at all was already impressive.
Michael didn't bother with small talk either.
