Mages Are Too OP

Few people in this world are fit to be magicians, but that doesn't mean no.

A city with a million people, how can you bring up a hundred kids with good magic talents?

But willingness to learn is not the main reason, and the ability to learn is the most important factor.

Poor boys want to learn to write. Civilians want to learn magic?

Even if you happen to get enough tuition money, no one is willing to teach.

The words are in noble hands, the magic is even more mysterious, and you can't even find a way to learn.

But now Roland says he's willing to teach two civilian children to become magic apprentices. No wonder Gru gets excited.

Looking at each other's excitement, Roland nodded and said in a soft but firm voice: “I said I would do it. ”

Groux stood up straight at his waist, his pale brown pupils filled with fanatical excitement: "Don't worry, we at the Ash Sand Club will do everything we can to help you find the information. ”

Roland nodded: "Don't overdo it. ”

Groulian nodded, “I understand, I understand. ”

Roland looked at Gru, who was already a little low-pitched, with some exclamation in his heart.

In fact, when Gru first arrived, although he looked humble, Roland could see that the other side was more than just acting.

The other side is only afraid of their own strength and their own identity, but there is still a little pride in them.

But now, that pride is gone, and there's nothing left but true pleasure and flattery.

That look Roland had actually seen. When he was a primary school student, the entire country was generally underprivileged, and one of his classmates had a poor family, who could not even afford the school fees and uniforms of compulsory education.

Roland saw the classmate's father, in the teacher's office, asking for some time to pay for uniforms and textbooks.

The parent laughed with him and was humbled into the mud.

And now Gru's smile, as he had seen when he was a kid.

After a moment of silence, Roland got up and said, "I'll wait for your good news at the Magic Tower. ”

As Roland began to walk out, Groux rushed forward and opened the door for Roland, while bending over to escort him away, like a servant.

Roland frowned and said nothing more.

He is a little aware of the mindset of such a person, and for the growth and future of his descendants, it doesn't matter if he suffers more, even if he is inferior.

Roland left the Ash Saloon until he walked away before Gru bent his waist slightly straight.

And the voices in the taverns are gradually returning.

Groux took a deep breath and ran to the top floor of the tavern, in front of a door.

Inside is a face full of wind cream, a middle-aged man whose skin turns red and black due to prolonged exposure to the sun.

The man was counting silver and copper coins, looking happy.

Gru shoved open the door and rushed in.

As soon as he jumped, he turned around and took the dagger out of his sleeve, but when he saw it was Gru, he was relieved.

Gruen was excited to say something incalculable: "Boss, Roland, son of Gold, said that if we do one thing for him, he will give us one or two places as magic apprentices. Let our children try! ”

The middle-aged man stood still and shook his head and said: "Groo, you can't dream. Master Magicians, how can you give us apprenticeships to civilians who can't even afford nobility? ”

“Boss, I'm really not lying, believe me.” Grouchon goes to the middle-aged man, grabs his shoulder, shakes like crazy: “This is our best chance, you have to believe me, Roland, the magician himself promised. ”

Looking at Gru's eyes red and his face twisted, the middle-aged man began to wonder: “Really? ”

“I wouldn't joke about something so important, boss. ”

The middle-aged man closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and had an ecstatic look on his face, but he was still not as excited as Gru, but his tone became a little rushed: “What are his conditions? ”

“Help him get the news. ”

Roland did not return to the Magic Tower, but to the castle.

Though Roland did not come by wagon, his magic robe was the best proof of identity, and the soldiers guarding the city did not dare to be lazy. After questioning his intentions, they immediately went into the castle to report.

Shortly after, John, a sleepy face, greeted himself.

“What a rare guest.” John's expression was somewhat surprising: "I thought it was Aldo, but I didn't think it was Lord Roland. ”

“If you'll excuse me, I'd like to ask you something. ”

John pointed to his castle: "Go inside and have a chat, at least let me entertain the guests. ”

Roland shook his head: "No, it's simple. Just go. ”

“You... don't give me any face.” John scratched his head: “The aristocrats came to my door but didn't want to come into my house, saying that other aristocrats would laugh at me. Forget it, you golden sons of bitches have a strange personality, I dare not mess with it. ”

John can only listen to what he has to say, and if he doesn't dare, he won't deliberately find a way to guide Bud and his enemies.

Roland took out the plaque again and asked, "You noblemen are very good at crematology, help me see which family crest this is. ”

John picked up the past, looked back and forth, frowned and said: "This is not a real family crest! ”

“Hmm?” Roland was a little surprised.

“It's more of a homemade replica.” Every aristocratic family has a strict meaning and production process, "John said. This thing is a hands-on piece. ”

Roland took a deep breath and said, "I get it. Thank you.”

After that, Roland turned around and left.

Walking down the street, Roland looked a little low. He found himself misled.

Maybe John does have some opinions about his golden son, but he's unlikely to be the murderer.

He suddenly figured it out when he heard that the crest didn't belong in Derbonne.

And now John's words make him more certain of his thoughts.

Someone deliberately led him into suspicion of John.

There are indeed ‘backing pots' diving rules between the nobles, but if it were John, as the son of the owner of the city, the future owner of Del Pont City, the backing pot would certainly not be too low and would not be the home of a quasi-accompanied merchant like Edward.

To put it this way, Big Edward doesn't even deserve to back up his pot.

And this wooden brand, most of which was left behind by Grand Edward, who, as a merchant, wanted to be a true aristocratic family, so it was normal to make a draft of the crest in advance.

And John's relationship with the disappearance of a teenage girl, like this crest, seemed real, but it was a lie.

John was hostile to golden sons such as Roland, but not necessarily in connection with the disappearance of a teenage girl.

There may be other reasons.

If it's really John, his backpacker, is the real nobleman's son, not a merchant's offspring.

And then he suddenly remembered, Big Edward held the girl hostage, and when he saw himself, that exciting look, that angry, desperate look.

Roland suddenly felt a little cold.

No wonder he's been feeling something wrong lately.

Damn, almost crushed by NPC IQ.