Grace stared blankly at the young wizard who had just rescued her from the brink of death, her gaze falling upon his fair, radiant, and handsomely elegant face, a misty bewilderment and confusion rising in her eyes.
"I’m Ronan, don’t you remember?"
Ronan looked gently at Grace in front of him, aware that she might have long forgotten his name, but the impression he had left on her should not have faded away.
He took the initiative to reveal his name, trying to evoke Grace’s memory of him.
Perhaps it was Ronan’s self-introduction, or maybe his voice, or his appearance... Grace finally began to have some impression of him.
Grace quickly covered her mouth, but still couldn’t help exclaiming in surprise, her beautiful eyes filled with sheer disbelief.
Ronan dissolved the silver metallic shield wall behind him, transforming the metal into a massive crescent shape, casually knocking away the rebounding blade discs.
These spinning blade discs unleashed a horrific cutting force comparable to that of a Third Rank Magic, with incredible speed, making it difficult to trace their trajectory.
But with Ronan’s keen perception and spiritual power which was more than ten times stronger than that of an average Late Second Level Stage Wizard, plus the assistance of the Eye of Truth, it wasn’t hard to deal with them.
Ronan maneuvered the metal, now silvered through alchemy, into the shape of tentacles, quickly entwining around several blade discs thrown into a brief stasis, and then yanked them into his hands.
The blade discs were heavier than Ronan had anticipated, made from a type of alchemically treated special brass that was extremely hard and sharp; the material was even superior to the metal medium Ronan was currently wielding in his hand and seemed to have reached the Third Rank.
Considering that he would soon need to replace his medium, Ronan had been consciously collecting suitable metals.
So far, these blade discs were the most satisfying he had found.
After just a few clashes, the medium he was using, made of a mix of Magic Nightmare Tungsten Steel, Neiman Alloy, and a medley of various metals, had already suffered considerable wear, which testified to the sharpness and solidity of the metal blade discs.
Using the Power of Spatial Stasis, Ronan captured all the blade discs within a few breaths and stowed them in his Space Ring.
Turning back, he saw Grace still staring at him with wide eyes, not yet fully recovering from the shock of his revealed identity.
However, having not seen her for several years, Ronan was just as surprised as Grace by her presence and the changes that had occurred to him.
To this day, Ronan still clearly remembered how, back at Hoddam Academy, in the tutors’ area, he had asked around for an opportunity to advance to a Level 1 Official Wizard but met with constant rejection.
Then at the worst of times, Grace appeared, providing him with the resources and guidance necessary for his promotion.
He could never forget that little house with the blue roof, and the short-haired girl who, while flipping through books and pretending to be mature, provided him guidance on the second floor.
But in Ronan’s mind, Grace was just the sole daughter of a Level 1 Official Wizard, and although talented, she should not be considered distinguished; otherwise, she wouldn’t have stayed in Hoddam Academy, an insignificant power in the Wizard World.
Grace was being guarded by three powerful Level 3 Wizards and referred to as "Princess."
That she was the descendant of some Wizard World royal family, lost and living in exile?
The turn of events was a bit too melodramatic.
As Ronan pondered, an urgent low shout came from afar, growing rapidly closer.
He looked in the direction of the voice and saw the two silver-haired witches who had followed Grace and finally escaped the entanglement of the Puppet Peak Group, rapidly approaching.
And one figure was coming even faster than them.
With a flash of white light, a tall and handsome young wizard had already appeared before Ronan.
"Lady Grace, are you alright?"
The young wizard was the first to inquire about Grace with concern and, after receiving a slight nod from Grace, turned to look at Ronan.
His expression was not pleasant, his grim face carried an undisguised wariness and hostility, not at all the attitude one would have towards someone who had just lent a helping hand.
The two silver-haired witches arrived shortly after, promptly checking on Grace’s condition and, upon discovering that Grace was just a bit frightened and not seriously harmed, showed a great sigh of relief mixed with a hint of self-reproach.
Their gaze also shifted to Ronan, the stranger who had appeared out of nowhere, but they looked at him much more amicably than the first young wizard.
"May I ask who you are..."
The silver-haired witch stepped forward two steps and inquired about Ronan’s identity, her eyes continuously observing the Magic Robe on his body and the silver metal surrounding it.
She seemed to be trying to deduce Ronan’s background from these details.
Ronan was contemplating whether to reveal his affiliation with the Silver Magic Ring when Grace suddenly stepped out from the protection of the three, and unexpectedly rushed towards Ronan.
"You are that... that..."
She looked at Ronan, her face showing indescribable excitement and emotion, her cheeks even blushing faintly.
Clearly, by now she had completely remembered who Ronan was.
It was a clear autumn afternoon; the youth, who had been desperately seeking perimission to enter the Mist Gate and met with disappointment, was walking dejectedly along a cobblestone path lined with Charming Trees. Then, passing a beautiful house with a blue roof, he encountered a girl, bored and trapped in a small attic. This marked the beginning of their first encounter...