Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

"You may not know how rare magical talent is for an ordinary person."

Afif held the small cake up to Vivian and said, "Each of us, or rather every intelligent being, possesses our own soul. This is a rule established by the Creator God, and it cannot be changed."

"I know that, teacher." Vivian blinked and nodded.

"Do you know how magical talent comes about?" Afif glanced at Victor beside him, who simply shrugged, indicating that he hadn't yet taught his students that.

"This..." Vivian thought for a few seconds, then shook her head.

"You know there's an invisible and intangible energy field in the world, called the magic field, and we can resonate with it to draw upon its power." Afif smiled and began explaining this knowledge. "But in principle, what resonates with the magic field is our soul. Every soul can resonate with the magic field, only the intensity of the resonance varies."

"Does that mean everyone can learn magic?" Vivian pressed, though she had previously heard that magical talent was extremely rare.

“No, I think you should know that the reality is not like that,” Afif said, holding up the small cake. “Let’s assume that this is us intelligent beings, and that the soul is the soft dough inside the cake, but on the outside, it’s covered with a thick layer of cream.”

"You mean, our souls are also covered with a layer of 'cream'?" Vivian's eyes were fixed on the small cake. In the candlelight, the glistening cream and pine nut crumbs on the cake emitted a wonderful aroma.

"The magical world calls it the 'Soul Shell,' which protects us from the temptations of magic," Afif nodded.

"But why are some people able to learn magic?"

"It's very simple," Afif gently squeezed the small cake with his hand. Under the influence of his fingers, several cracks appeared on the surface of the cream shell, revealing the cake inside. "Some people are born with cracks in their 'soul shell,' which exposes their soul to the magic field. This gives them an innate ability to learn magic."

"A crack?" Vivian pursed her lips. "So that's how it is..."

"Such people are very rare in a group, but they walk in the magic field like tiny vortexes. Ordinary people would not notice them at all, but great magicians like us can detect the 'seeds' around us by observing the fluctuations in the magic field."

After Afif finished speaking, he put the small cake into his mouth, chewed it a few times, and said with satisfaction, "Hmm, their skills are still as good as ever, really good."

Viktor glanced at the satisfied Afif, as if he could tell that the other was deliberately emphasizing the origin of the cake, but after pursing his lips, he turned away and ignored Afif. Instead, he twitched his long beard and said to Vivian, "The time I helped your father with his performance, I initially thought the magical fluctuations were because of my demonstration. But after the demonstration, I was surprised to find that the fluctuations were still there, so I took you as my apprentice."

"Was it that port opening ceremony?" Vivian looked at her teacher, her voice devoid of emotion. Now that she knew about her brother's situation and understood that he was not in any danger, she gradually emerged from her grief.

Archmage Victor nodded, looking kindly at his beloved disciple.

"Then, teacher," Vivian glanced at the few remaining small cakes on the table, "is there no other way for ordinary people to get past that layer of 'cream'?"

"Breakthrough on your own?" Afif swallowed the food in his mouth and looked at the girl with some surprise.

"Yes, if it's all determined by so-called innate factors, then wouldn't it be extremely rare?"

"It's not that it never happened," Afif smiled, picking up a silk cloth from the table to wipe his hands. "But that was a long time ago. Back then, there was a kind of magic potion that would indeed open the 'soul shell' of ordinary people when they drank it, allowing them to resonate with the magic field. However, that kind of magic potion has since disappeared into the annals of history."

"Does that potion have a recipe?" Vivian leaned forward and asked curiously.

"Ahem," Victor coughed from the side, then said in a stern voice, "Vivian, have you finished your practice for today?"

"Ah, teacher," Vivian immediately shrank back, "I've been here all day, gathering information outside."

"Practicing magic requires diligence; you can't be lazy," Victor frowned, looking at his apprentice. "You should go back to your room and practice your spells properly."

"But, teacher..."

"You want to give up learning to fly?" Victor's voice sounded even sterner. "Go practice."

"Yes, teacher." Vivian pouted and reluctantly got up to leave, but she had only taken two steps when Victor called her back, "Take these little cakes away, honestly, they're so sweet."

"It's so sweet, and you ate several pieces in a row." Afif mocked directly from the side, showing no mercy to the other party.

Vivian walked over quickly, picked up the tray on the table, stuck out her tongue, turned around, and left the room with her head down.

"You've said too much, Afif." Viktor sighed softly as the girl had already left.

"I was just saying something casually. Does she really want to go all over the world looking for Naga?" Afif leaned back nonchalantly, then reached for his coffee cup on the table.

"That child has a tenacity and is also very thoughtful," Viktor glanced at the closed door, making sure his student had left and that their conversation wouldn't be overheard. "I'm afraid if I say too much, she might come up with some strange ideas."

"Come on, Viktor," Afif took a small sip of coffee, then frowned slightly. "Everyone knows the Naga have been gone for many years, and they're nowhere to be found in the world now. Getting any potions from them is practically impossible."

"And you know," he said, placing his coffee cup on the table with a hint of disdain, turning to look directly at his "old friend," "those guys won't let the potion reappear."

"They..." Victor hesitated, knowing the other was right. The pursuit of the Naga thousands of years ago was orchestrated by those same people. "They were all mages, why were they so short-sighted?"

"Because potions will affect their status," Afif said bluntly. Compared to his "old friend" sitting across from him, he was more direct. "If potions become rampant, the Spellcasting Association will have no reason to exist. Without that power, they'll go crazy."

"Didn't I tell you not to get involved in the politics of the various kingdoms?" Victor glanced at the glass in front of him, the Red Bull inside still untouched.

"Do you really trust those guys?" Afif shook his head slightly. "As someone I know, you certainly wouldn't get involved in the kingdom's affairs, but not everyone is like you. There are many people who enjoy being respected and even fawned over."

After saying that, he waved his hand, and the cup in front of Viktor floated up and flew quickly toward him.

"I haven't had it yet." Victor frowned.

"I know," Afif chuckled, then grabbed the cup full of Red Bull before Victor could cast his spell. "That coffee tastes awful, I'll just switch to Red Bull."

"Then you shouldn't have told Vivian either," Victor lowered his raised arm, his tone tinged with reproach. "You haven't known that girl long enough to know her personality. She's very bold and decisive, like before..."

He paused for a few seconds, as if recalling something that had happened before, "When she had no news of her brother, she dared to study arcane magic on her own, and even caused magical turbulence, almost getting herself harmed by the backlash."

"So you brought her directly here?" Afif took a small sip of Red Bull and nodded slightly. It was clear that the taste was better than the coffee. "That explains why you would come to visit me on your own initiative."

"That child is indeed very talented in magic," Victor nodded. "Of course, I'm also afraid that if she tries to do it herself, she might make mistakes again, and if I'm not at the magic tower, there might be irreversible consequences."

"This is the best choice you've ever made in your life." Afif smiled and "praised" his "old friend," but his expression looked more like he was showing off.

"Hmph, if it weren't for you, 'Anna' wouldn't have..." Victor curled his lip, showing no mercy to the other party.

"Never mind," Afif took a sip of Red Bull, then calmly asked, "Speaking of which, has there really been no news of the Naga people from the coast all these years?"

"No." Victor nodded firmly.

"But I know some magicians are still looking for them; these guys just won't give up." Afif sighed softly, clearly somewhat dissatisfied.

"Then why did you tell Vivian the Naga about it?"

"Don't talk about me, you also told her about the floating city and that book before." Afif retorted directly, not losing in terms of momentum at all.

"What could I do? She was practically running out of the magic tower herself. All I could do was give her a glimmer of hope." Victor stroked his long beard, his tone tinged with melancholy. "Anyway, none of us have ever seen the Tower of Babel, but with this apple hanging in front of her, she'll be a little more obedient."

“But we all know that the Tower of Babel does exist.” Afif frowned. “It’s just that the only mage who knew about the Tower of Babel, Spencer, disappeared hundreds of years ago.”

"Of course they'll disappear. These guys still have a bounty on Cunningham's head," Victor said irritably. "They're officially accused of causing a massive death and injury incident, but isn't it all because of the research manuscripts about the plague that they have?"

"Sigh—" After hearing his old friend's words, Afif also sighed. The two sat facing each other in silence. A few minutes later, the grandfather clock on the side of the house suddenly made a "clanging" sound.

"It's time to go see them." Afif reached for the Red Bull on the table, downed it in one gulp, then picked up his cane and stood up.

With a "thud," the cane was slammed onto the floor, and then purple mist rose from beneath Afif's feet, quickly enveloping his body.

Opposite him, Victor was already shrouded in purple mist.

"Whoosh—" A gust of wind blew into the room from somewhere, and the purple mist quickly dissipated. The two high-level archmages were no longer in the room.

…………

"Is everyone almost here?"

In the purple mist, a large, rustic stone round table is already full of people.

Afif and Victor slowly emerged from the mist and then sat down in their seats.

"Shall we begin now?" a mage asked from around the round table.

But then, a voice came from within the clouds, "Wait, I'll be right there."

A dozen seconds later, a figure hurriedly emerged from the clouds and sat down in the last seat.

"You're late, Rondo Adal," a mage said with some displeasure.

"I'm sorry, I was held up by something, but I still got here as quickly as possible." The mage Rondo apologized hastily, and it was clear that he didn't seem to have a very high status in this group.

"Well then, let's begin our meeting today, members of the Spell Union." An aged voice rang out, and everyone fell silent.

"First question: Does anyone have any news about the Tower of Babel or Spencer?" the aged voice rang out again, but still no one responded. "Looks like this is another wasted question."

"Guild Master, perhaps this guy named Spencer is already dead," a mage nearby advised.

But the president of the association shook his head directly, "Impossible, any spell used to summon a spirit will not get any response, he should still be alive."

"Still alive?" Afif muttered to himself, turning his head slightly to meet Viktor's gaze. Both could see the surprise in each other's eyes. Then they turned their gazes together to the center of the large stone round table.

There was a glass dome the size of a head, inside which was a small gray metal part that looked like part of a key, with irregular teeth.

"Everyone, continue searching for Spencer's trail. If you find him, follow the steps we agreed on before and notify everyone." The president sat at the round table. He looked quite old and was rather thin. His long white beard was neatly combed, and his two long white eyebrows drooped down, completely obscuring his eyes.

"The second topic is exchanging intelligence." The guild leader then posed a question: "Any news regarding Cunningham, for whom we have a bounty?"

"I've got it," an archmage said. "An adventurer seems to have seen him on the public carriage heading to Girthhorn, but we can't be sure it's him, only that he looks very similar."

"He went to Gieshorn?" the wizard Rondo asked in surprise. "Is there anything he needs there?"

"I don't know," the mage shook his head, "maybe he's going to catch a few goblins?"

"He's researching the plague and needs to conduct experiments. Goblins should be good test subjects," the guild leader nodded. "These guys' souls are filthy, but they can be used. For Cunningham, they should be the safest experimental materials."

"If you need goblins, you can buy them from slave traders," Rondo said, still puzzled.

"I don't know, could it be that they've discovered some kind of special goblin?"