Faerun: The arcane mage is still too imprisoned.

Alfred walked up to Lance and carefully examined the young man.

To be honest, up close, this young man is even more amazing.

Her long, silvery-white hair flowed smoothly down her back, and her sky-blue eyes were as clear as two deep springs. She calmly met his gaze, without the slightest fear or flattery.

That face was more exquisite than the most beautiful noblewoman in the capital.

Of course, what Alfred cared about most was that aura.

A faint, detached, and seemingly otherworldly quality.

Alfred had seen many geniuses.

But few people can remain so calm in his presence.

Even those veteran powerhouses at the Exemplary level would be somewhat reserved in the presence of a prince like him.

But the young man in front of me showed no emotion in his eyes.

It's like looking at an ordinary person.

Alfred was secretly amazed, but he didn't show it on his face.

He smiled and said, "Your Excellency Lance, is that right? I've heard so much about you."

Lance nodded: "Your Highness is too kind."

Alfred glanced at him a few more times, then turned to Graham and asked casually, "Iron Fist, could you tell me the details of the operation against the Sassanid vanguard, especially the killing of Redmond?"

Graham did not answer, but looked at Lance.

Lance said calmly, "There's not much to say. We simply discovered their camp during reconnaissance and, under cover of darkness, killed them."

After listening, Alfred remained silent for a few seconds.

"Young man, you're very capable," he said with a smile. "But do you really have such great skills at such a young age? Don't exaggerate!"

The air around them seemed to freeze the moment those words were spoken.

Graham's expression changed.

"Your Highness!"

He stepped forward, his tone clearly displeased. "Mr. Lance is a hero of Rield City; his achievements are genuine! What do you mean by that?"

Alfred waved his hand, signaling him not to rush.

"Iron Fist, don't get agitated."

He laughed and said, "I was just asking casually. After all, what level could such a young professional possibly be?"

"How did he kill Redmond? I'm just curious."

Graham took a deep breath and said in a solemn voice, "Your Highness, as an elite mage, Lance's strength is beyond doubt. Even you, Your Highness, cannot casually slander a mage with outstanding military achievements."

Alfred was shocked. Graham had actually told him in person that Lance was an elite mage.

Although he had guessed it before, it was still hard to believe.

Such a young mage, yet he's already an elite.

It's important to know that the mage profession is the most difficult to cultivate among all professions.

Warriors rely on their physical strength, wanderers on their skills, and knights-errant on their experience.

But a mage relies on intelligence.

Without sufficient talent, you can't even touch the magic net.

Without sufficient intelligence, one cannot even learn a first-level spell.

An elite mage needs to be at least level 5.

What does a level 5 mage mean?

This means that one has mastered at least dozens of spells, can skillfully use third-circle spells, and can independently conduct complex magical research.

The young man in front of me looks to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old.

A seventeen or eighteen-year-old elite mage?

What does it mean to be an elite mage who is seventeen or eighteen years old?

It means that he has amazing talent.

It means a bright future.

This means that as long as they don't die, they will at least reach the Exemplary rank in the future, and may even have a chance to reach the Hero rank.

A hero-level mage is a terrifying existence capable of single-handedly defeating an entire nation; the kingdom has never possessed one since its inception.

The doubt on Alfred's face vanished instantly, replaced by a warm and welcoming smile.

The speed at which he changed his expression left everyone around him stunned.

Just a moment ago he had a look on his face that said, "You young man, you're just bragging," but now he's smiling like he's seen his own father.

"So it's Lord Lance!" He quickly stepped forward, extending his hand. "I was just joking earlier, please don't take it to heart!"

Lance shook hands with him.

Alfred's hands were thick and hard, with large knuckles and thick calluses on his palms, marks left from years of wielding a sword.

As they shook hands, Alfred removed a ring from the index finger of his left hand.

The ring was silver, with a dark red gemstone set in its face, and flames seemed to flow within the gemstone.

"This is just a small gift, nothing special," Alfred said, handing over the ring. "This ring is called the 'Dragon's Breath Ring.' It allows you to use the [Dragon's Breath] spell ten times a day. I hope you'll accept it."

Lance took the ring and looked at it.

Dragon's Breath Ring

Type: Magic Ring

[Quality: Tier 2]

[Effect: Can be used ten times daily. Once activated, it allows the use of [Dragon Breath].]

Although it is not as powerful as the Fireball spell, it has a larger range and is cone-shaped, so it can be cast quite a few times a day.

He nodded, choosing to temporarily forgive the prince's disrespectful remarks.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Alfred's smile widened.

"Lord Lance, you're too kind!" he said. "A genius like you has a bright future ahead of you! If you ever come to the capital again, be sure to visit me, and I'll treat you to a drink!"

Lance nodded: "Definitely."

Alfred spoke a few more words to him before turning to Graham.

"Iron Fist, have all the arrangements been made for the army's entry into the city?"

Graham nodded: "Everything is arranged. An area in the east of the city has been cleared out, enough to garrison tens of thousands of people."

"Okay." Alfred patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you for your hard work."

Graham grinned and said, "It's not tiring at all. It's Your Highness who has come from afar."

Alfred smiled and mounted his horse.

"Let's go into town!"

At his command, the army began to slowly move towards the city gate.

Graham followed beside him, whispering about the situation in the city.

Lance stood there, gazing thoughtfully at the vast army.

Little Black peeked out from his arms and whispered, "Master, that prince is so good at changing his expression..."

Lance smiled.

"Of course," he said. "Anyone who can climb to this position in the royal family is a shrewd and calculating individual."

Xiao Hei blinked: "So, was that ring he gave me just now a sincere gift?"

Lance looked down at the ring on his hand.

"Whether he's sincere or not doesn't matter," he said. "What matters is that he knew he should give it to me."

Little Black tilted its head, seemingly not quite understanding.

Lance didn't explain further, but simply slipped the ring onto his right index finger.

The silver ring fit snugly against the skin, and a cool sensation flashed by.

"Let's go," he said. "Let's go home."

He picked up Little Black and slowly lifted it into the air.

Below, part of the 100,000-strong army was pouring into Rild City, while another part was setting up camp outside the city, forming a pincer movement with the army inside.

The scene resembled a giant black dragon, slowly engulfing the ancient city.