A group of elegantly dressed children, around seven or eight years old, gathered together, standing on supports made from several discarded bricks, peering curiously inside through the window with wide eyes.
The room was very quiet, with only a long-braided painter bustling before the easel, but the children’s attention was not on the colorful paints but rather on the man sitting opposite the painter, quietly flipping through a book.
The children could not see the man’s face clearly, only catching glimpses of a pure black robe embroidered with silver edges.
It was as if lights were constantly flowing on the robe, surrounded by many twinkling lights, resembling the starry sky on a midsummer night, full of mystery and depth.
Gradually, the children became mesmerized; after an unknown period, a coughing sound rang out.
Startled, one of the boys accidentally fell off the stone, causing all the children to scatter in panic.
The painter, sweating profusely, put down the brush and stuttered nervously.
Ronan, hearing the noise, gently closed the book and stood up, walking slowly over to check the painter’s work.
On the freshly painted canvas on the easel, there depicted a handsome and serene young man draped in a Wizard Robe.
The resemblance to Ronan himself was roughly fifty to sixty percent.
Neither satisfied nor dissatisfied, given Ronan’s current spiritual cultivation, even if he fully restrained himself, the natural Force Field emanating from his body would distort the light, making it impossible for ordinary people to clearly see the details of his facial features.
Given that the painter managed to draw his portrait in the same room, it was rather impressive.
A soft knock on the door sounded, and Count Feilie entered.
Ronan nodded slightly; the painter, as if pardoned, quickly took his easel and left.
Count Feilie came over, glanced at the painting Ronan was holding, then spoke to him in a low voice.
Very soon, the two left the room.
They walked forward and then down the old castle’s staircase, stopping finally in front of a newly excavated chamber.
This was a new underground chamber, which, despite many renovations, still had a slightly damp and musty smell of rotting soil.
Ronan casually lifted his hand, a beam of light shining from his fingertips illuminating the entire chamber like daylight.
Count Feilie tactfully stopped at the doorway and turned to leave, leaving Ronan alone inside.
Ronan slowly entered, surveying this underground chamber— the space was not large, only about thirty square meters, completely barren except for the bare stone walls on all sides.
Everything was as he had requested.
A slight look of satisfaction appeared on Ronan’s face; then he gently shook his hand, materializing a pile of items out of thin air.
Then, his spiritual power spread out, rapidly embedding those materials into the surrounding stone walls.
Soon, the sound of crumbling stones "rustled" from the stone walls, as bizarre, twisted rune patterns began to gradually emerge...
These patterns densely covered almost the entire stone wall space, all eventually converging beneath Ronan’s feet.
Once Ronan embedded the pre-prepared Advanced Magic Stones into several specific energy recesses, the entire Rune Formation quickly activated, the patterns lighting up, adding many mysterious and profound colors to the small chamber.
After all this was done, Ronan finally unfurled the now-dry canvas in his hand.