Before the White-Clad One stood an object strikingly resembling an incense burner, adorned with a series of meticulously arranged tiny holes. Wisps of blue smoke, much like flowing water, meandered among these holes in a continuous stream.

Suddenly, the blue smoke transformed into a distinct shade of red. Subsequently, as if by some unspoken agreement, it rushed towards the nostrils of the White-Clad One.

The White-Clad One's head gradually tilted backward, and his brows furrowed more deeply with each passing moment.

When the very last wisp of red smoke was inhaled, the White-Clad One's eyes snapped open.

The individuals kneeling below also opened their eyes, a half-second or so later, in succession.

"Go and inform Fitt that it can now be confirmed that there is indeed an invasion by the demon race," the White-Clad One commanded, rising to his feet with an air of authority.

However, before those below could even begin to act, a heroic and spirited female voice sounded from outside the hall, "I'm already aware of it."

The hall was presumably designed to be quite soundproof, yet this female voice was remarkably clear.

The White-Clad One let out a couple of chuckles. "Then I'll trouble you with it."

There was no further response.

The White-Clad One didn't seem the least bit surprised. He murmured softly, as if to himself, "What on earth could be the demon race's objective this time? If their aim is to conquer the kingdom, that paltry amount of military force simply wouldn't be sufficient..."

...

Kaeladria.

The moment Glen stepped into the lofty magic exchange, where the aura of magic hung thick in the air, he immediately became aware of countless pairs of eyes fixed upon him.

However, within this vast hall, which closely resembled an exhibition hall, apart from the customers, there wasn't a single living soul who appeared to be a receptionist.

Evidently, those glances did not originate from the customers present.

Could it be that there were surveillance devices concealed everywhere?... This thought flashed through Glen's mind, seemingly unbidden.

The brown-haired youth had mentioned that he dared not enter this place and had chosen to wait outside. Perhaps this was precisely the reason.

Glen feigned ignorance of those piercing stares and made his way towards an exhibition area marked with the word "props".

The items on display, some perched on stands and others arranged on platforms, presented a dazzling array.

Each item was accompanied by corresponding written descriptions.

Glen was on the verge of picking up an object placed on a display platform, known as the "Cold Binding Bracelet". However, to his surprise, the stand beside the platform suddenly sprouted eyes and a mouth, and it spoke in a cold, detached tone, "Look, but do not touch."

Glen's hand froze mid-air, and he turned to regard the stand.

The stand boasted two eyes situated on different branches of a fork, and its mouth was split vertically, revealing a row of sharp, glistening teeth within.

Before Glen could even formulate a response, a strange voice emanated from beneath the display platform, saying, "Is this your first time here? You look positively clumsy and naive."

Glen took a few steps backward. Sure enough, the display platform itself also sprouted eyes and a mouth.

So those scrutinizing glances had come from these animate objects... Glen realized this in an instant. He inquired, "Who, or what, are you?"

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"We were created by the great Lord Holmes and have been entrusted with the task of minding this store, you foolish apprentice," the stand declared with a great deal of pride.

With a moment's thought, Glen quickly understood the situation. Employing self-created "living beings" was not only a matter of unwavering loyalty but also eliminated the need to pay wages. It was, indeed, a most advantageous arrangement.

However, to possess the ability to transform inanimate objects into living entities, one's power must be considerable. At the very least, one would need to be at the fourth level of magic proficiency or higher.

"I'm interested in purchasing some props. May I consult with you regarding them?" Glen asked.

"Certainly. It is our duty to assist. However, apprentice, I'm afraid you won't be able to afford any of the items in this establishment. It would be advisable for you to confer with your teacher and return at a later time," the display platform said, speaking slowly.

"How can you be so certain that I can't afford them?" Glen persisted.

"Judging by your attire and demeanor, I surmise that you may possess some family wealth, but it is insufficient for you to make purchases here. I have considerable experience in these matters," the stand replied this time.

Just as Glen was about to retort, a burst of mocking laughter reached his ears from behind.

He turned around and noticed that several nearby customers were regarding him with the kind of gaze one would use to watch a spectacle.

Glen furrowed his brows and said, "Did you happen to swallow a fly? Your laughter is positively grating. Are you so eager to ensure that everyone knows just how ear-splitting your so-called 'angelic voice' is?"

Those who frequented such a place were undoubtedly mages, apprentices, or attendants of mages. Accustomed to being revered outside, most of them harbored some less-than-desirable character traits. Glen had no intention of indulging their behavior.

None of them had anticipated that this young lad would have the audacity to berate so many of them simultaneously. After all, he was clearly just an apprentice, as had been determined when he first entered the establishment.

How could he possibly be so bold!?

This was the thought that flashed through everyone's mind. However, they were reluctant to cause a disturbance in this place, so the majority of them chose to leave.

A few, however, remained steadfast, adopting an attitude of "let's see what you're capable of".

"Friend, whose apprentice are you? Your arrogance is quite unbecoming and does not align with the demeanor expected of a mage," a thin young man with a broad forehead chided Glen.

Glen simply turned his back on the man, too indifferent to engage with him.

Just as he was about to resume his inquiries, he felt a sudden chill on his calf.

He glanced down and saw that his trouser leg was damp and emanated a pungent odor.

When Glen looked up again, he witnessed a boy of approximately eight or nine years old stowing away his magic staff and, to cap it off, making a mocking face at him.

Upon seeing Glen narrow his eyes menacingly, the boy swiftly hid behind a female mage clad in a light brown robe, yet still regarded Glen with a look of defiance.

The few individuals who had not yet departed all erupted into raucous laughter.

The female mage, too, curled her lips into a smirk.

In fact, they had cast a cursory glance at Glen as soon as he entered. His simple attire made it abundantly clear that he was not an apprentice of a renowned mage. Instead, he resembled more of a wild mage who had, by chance, awakened his magical perception.

At first, they had merely felt contemptuous and paid him no heed. It was only when his actions once again caught their attention that they were drawn back in.

They had initially intended to merely laugh at him and then go about their own business. However, they had not anticipated his audacity, and as a result, they decided to stay and observe.

Slap! Slap! Slap!...

Before they could laugh for long, they suddenly felt a searing pain on their cheeks, and moments later, they found themselves sprawled on the ground.

Including the female mage, all those who had been laughing were struck down and lay prostrate on the floor.

The female mage in the brown robe wore an expression of utter disbelief as she gingerly touched her swollen and reddened cheek.

When she directed her gaze back at Glen, she saw that he was holding up her apprentice's ear with one hand, hoisting the boy into the air.

Each time the seven or eight-year-old apprentice boy emitted a cry of pain, Glen would twist his ear a little more forcefully.

And with each passing moment, the boy's cries grew louder and more desperate.

The customers who had been perusing the props nearby were all drawn to the commotion.

"Is that Bana's apprentice? Why is he being physically assaulted?"

"Not only is Bana's apprentice being beaten, but Bana herself has also been attacked."

"What? Isn't she a third-level mage? Who would dare to lay a hand on her?"

Just as Glen was relishing the moment, he suddenly sensed a foreboding.

The female mage named Bana had already raised her hand, and it was evident that she was on the verge of unleashing an offensive spell.

But Glen was one step ahead. He seized her hand and, with a swift exertion of force...

Crack!

Bana's wrist was crushed with a sickening snap.

She let out a blood-curdling scream and writhed on the ground, completely incapacitated and unable to mount any further resistance.

Such a ruthless act immediately brought the entire crowd to a stunned silence.

Even the crying boy apprentice was left speechless with shock. In his perception, his teacher was an omnipotent figure, someone who allowed him to act with impunity outside.

But now, seeing his teacher so easily subdued, it was as if the very foundations of his world had crumbled.

Glen approached the boy apprentice and grasped his other ear. The boy once again let out a wail of pain.

"Silence," Glen commanded icily.

The boy apprentice promptly fell silent, leaving only the sound of his choked sobs.