"I never knew this room actually concealed..."
Ronan paused as he watched the smoke-like little creatures in Orian’s hand, unsure how to address them.
Orian picked up where he left off, casually remarking, "Once you’ve lived here long enough, you’ll naturally come into contact with them.
They’re quite shy. It took me fifteen years of living here before I could slowly start to interact and communicate with them."
Ronan pursed his lips.
There really isn’t such a thing as a genius who achieves success without reason.
That Orian managed to advance to a Level 3 Wizard before the age of fifty and gain the resounding title of ’Four-Colored Metal’ was not solely due to his exceptional Talent. It was also closely tied to the vigorous nurturing from the various top-tier resources of the Silver Magic Ring.
Ronan, because of the coordinates of a World Stone, narrowly escaped death amid the crisis of the Ancient Witch Revival Association and, as an exception, was granted access to the Ascetic Room and the right to use some of the Inheritance Mark Space.
During this time, Ronan could feel a swift enhancement in all his abilities—it was an indisputable sanctuary for a Wizard’s solitary cultivation.
And Orian... had lived in this place for at least fifteen years.
Ronan felt a twinge of emotion and then spoke casually, "As you please."
Orian slightly bowed his head, whispering in a mosquito-like voice. He was talking with the Dust Elves in his hand, using a language that Ronan couldn’t understand, resembling the peculiar murmurs of secret whispers.
The Dust Elves, upon receiving Orian’s instructions, vanished like smoke.
"If you want to communicate with them, remember to keep your voice as low as possible. Otherwise, you might scare them.
The Dust Elves can understand our language, but it’s much smoother conversing with them using the language of Elves...
On the fifth shelf up on your left, there’s a book about the Elvish language of the Dust Elves. If you’re interested, you could flip through it; it won’t take much time to learn..."
Orian looked up and spoke to Ronan with a tone of someone who had been through it all.
He was clearly teaching Ronan something, yet it didn’t come off as annoying. Instead, he showed a level of refinement Ronan had never felt from a second person.
At that moment, the previously departed Dust Elves returned, bringing even more of their kin.
Several winged little beings were stacked upon each other, clutching a teapot, teacups, and a tray—objects many times their size—wobbling and eliciting worry that they might fall at any second.
Orian softly reminded Ronan, "Don’t try to help them, or you’ll end up angering them and they’ll ignore you for a long time.
Dust Elves are the stewards of the attic; keen on serving us, you just need to carefully communicate your needs and then patiently wait...
If you establish a good relationship with them, perhaps they’ll even share many secrets with you that occur within this attic, secrets unknown to most."
Ronan watched as the group of Dust Elves neatly arranged a spread of steaming tea, along with sugar cubes, cream, honey, salt, and snacks like scones and fruit tarts on the long table, quickly setting up a rather lavish afternoon tea.
He listened to Orian, his expression subtly changing, and couldn’t help but say, "You really understand them well."
Orian watched a grey-winged Dust Elf clumsily pouring water into the cup in front of him and said faintly, "Of course, I’ve spent more time with them than anyone else within the Magic Ring."
From Orian’s words, Ronan detected a profound sense of loneliness. It appeared that having high expectations from the Ring Master and other Ring Lord Level individuals within the Magic Ring was not entirely pleasant.
Ronan could almost imagine—a lonely young Wizard, day after day, year after year, confined in this narrow and quiet room, with no company besides meditation and the Dust Elves hidden in the floorboards and bookshelves.
"What’s the situation outside like now?"
Ronan asked Orian while gently stirring the white sugar cube in the red tea with a silver spoon.
In truth, he wasn’t completely uninformed about the outside world. Although he was "imprisoned" here and temporarily unable to leave, he still had his Communication implements and occasionally reached out to people like Benny and Clements.
Yet, sitting face to face with Orian, he thought about whether to initiate a conversation to break the silence and slightly awkward atmosphere.
"Which aspect are you referring to?"
"The Ancient Witch Revival Association."
Orian paused for a moment before replying, "After the Resurrection Wizard Society’s list was published, extermination missions have been ongoing. There has also been involvement from other Wizard Forces, with bloodshed and conflicts happening every day..."
From Orian’s brief description, Ronan heard one word—"Chaos."
The situation with the Ancient Witch Revival Association had developed to the point of gradually getting out of control.
The resources of the forces harmed by the Association had become alluring to many, and quite a few forces were using the excuse of exterminating the remnants of the Association to plunder on other’s territories. Some even directly "disguised" as members of the Association to openly murder and loot...
Six, oh no, it should be said as five now. According to Orian, Thorny Palace had already completely disbanded last month.
Even the Silver Magic Ring had absorbed a small part of the Thorny Palace Wizards.
The territories around the Five Great Wizard Forces had almost become a mess, and this turmoil was spreading to even further places.