The man was short, bald and had a small mouth hidden by his magnanimous gray beard which he proudly caressed nonstop as if it was some kind of trophy. His face was wrinkled and looked very old, his eyes showed signs of intelligence and a harshness typical of those that had faced many trials. His bulging muscles pressed through his leather clothes, they were simple-looking, but made of the finest material.

He was the King’s right hand man, a retired commander that grew up with his majesty and fought many battles alongside him.

At the time, his task was to elect members to build the prince’s shield, a group of individuals with the duty of aiding the crown – most specifically the crown prince – taking direct orders from their sovereign. Admittedly, it wasn’t an easy thing to do. Entrust the life of the country’s heir to the likes of strangers? Preposterous, they would never allow such a thing. He needed to tread carefully as not to endanger the royal bloodline.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

As he slowly passed through the individual reports of possible candidates for the role, he stumbled upon a strange occurrence. It was a guy in his thirties who’d just got jailed due to unpaid debts to gambling houses – and large debts at that. The boy was fucked up, that was crystal clear. However, that wasn’t what caught his attention.

What got him interested was that on the first lines of the paper it was written the words: Dual-core mage. Seeing that, the old man couldn’t help bursting out in laughter. He barely remembered the last time he had such a good laugh. It was stupid to the point of crying tears of joy.

There was no such thing as a dual-core mage.