39: Eat quickly! The power of cognition!

Ian’s gaze was drawn to the apple, which shimmered with the brilliance of a work of art.

Beside him, Pendro urged him on.

“Quick! Eat it, quickly, before the old hag sees you—she’ll surely snatch it away!” As he spoke, Pendro rushed forward and shoved the golden apple toward Ian’s mouth.

“Cough, cough!”

This was Ian’s first time consuming something from the Misty Illusion, and Pendro’s movements were somewhat rough. He nearly choked, but fortunately, the apple—which was larger than a fist—melted the moment it touched his lips.

“Ian is glowing!”

Ariana’s exclamation rang out.

Ian could not see her expression, for he felt a warm and strange power instantly coursing through his entire body. The sensation was so peculiar, as if his very soul were being cleansed, that he could not help but close his eyes to savor it. His body seemed to be infused with newfound vitality and life.

*Boom!*

It wasn't that Ian had exploded, but rather the sound of iron striking against the walls of the hall. Immediately after, Ian faintly heard Pendro’s flustered voice in his ear.

“That woman heard me call her an old hag! Run! Run!”

“Ian, we’ll be waiting for you in the town!”

...

The voices of Ariana and Pendro intertwined, gradually drifting away into the distance.

Ian did not know how much time had passed. When he opened his eyes again, the furniture in the hall had returned, and the witch was watching him with a complex expression.

“I didn’t expect them to actually find it...” The witch’s tone was one of genuine wonder.

“Teacher, I recall you saying that you cut down the last golden apple tree in the world?” While in the Misty Illusion, Ian had been unable to check his status changes through his interface. Now, he only felt a clarity of mind he had never experienced before.

“Clearly, before I cut down the last golden apple tree, someone had smuggled a seed here,” the witch explained, causing Ian’s eyes to widen.

“Before me, there were others who could do this?” Ian asked, quite surprised.

The witch shook her head.

“Foolish little one, no wizard is as special as you, so naturally, no other wizard would receive the same favoritism. I only meant that someone brought a seed here.”

“I do not know by what means, but history has seen far too many brilliant wizards. Many legends of the past could have potentially achieved such things that defy reason.”

The witch stared at Ian’s youthful face and whispered softly.

“After all, legends are legends precisely because they can create impossible miracles.” The tapestries on the walls seemed to tremble slightly at her gentle narration, and the flames depicted in the various scenes appeared to burn more fiercely.

“Perhaps I can find some useful information in the school library,” Ian nodded thoughtfully. Naturally, there were not many wizards throughout history who could be called legends.

“You’d be better off asking that damned butcher friend of yours. Since he was able to bring this golden apple to you, it naturally means he knew all along where the golden apple was planted.” The witch rolled her eyes at Ian with a look that suggested he was an idiot.

“His memories aren’t what they used to be,” Ian replied helplessly. He had, of course, considered that avenue himself.

“Then he is truly pitiful,” the witch said, her smile not reaching her eyes.

“Teacher, I apologize to you on his behalf. He has always been a very reckless fellow,” Ian said, lowering his guard and speaking with utmost sincerity. “I promise to find your mirror, as well as the other things you desire, as compensation for his rudeness.”

Hearing this, the witch’s expression softened.

“I only want my mirror.” She paused, then added, “And the dragon he promised to capture!”

Good grief! As expected! The witch really had been hiding deep in the castle eavesdropping the whole time!

“Of course, no problem!” Ian quickly agreed. However, although his exasperated teacher’s expression had calmed down again, she could not help but curse Pendro once more.

“That damned troublemaker! That vile executioner! That disgusting, despicable looter!” She rattled off a string of ugly epithets for Pendro.

“He must have been an extraordinary person when he was alive, right?” Ian asked tentatively. He could tell, of course, that the witch knew much about Pendro.

“My foolish apprentice, why do you always ask such idiotic questions?” The witch cast a look of disdain at Ian.

“The answer has been right in front of you all along, yet you chose to ignore the truth.” The witch let out a heavy sigh, but her words left Ian completely bewildered. What had he ignored? Why couldn't he realize it himself?

“Teacher, I admit I am a fool. So, can you tell me who he is?” Ian’s curiosity was uncontainable.

“You are a little pig, but I am not,” the witch scoffed. “Tell you, so you can go tell him? If he remembers, he could continue to jump around here for many more years. Do you think I am the type of person who would go out of my way to make things difficult for myself?”

Teacher Mara clearly did not care for Pendro. What she said made perfect sense; Ian didn't even know how to respond.

“Do you know? Everything in this castle, including the abilities I have shown you—none of it is magic. It is merely a shaping brought about by perception.” The witch suddenly began to reflect.

“Perception?” Ian felt rather surprised.

“Yes. In this land, which is far removed from the mundane world, perception determines what you can achieve,” the witch continued to explain patiently.

“I believe in the power of knowledge, while he believed that he could do anything he wanted... Three times over, he proved that his perception was firmer than mine.” The witch offered a subtle explanation for why she was no match for Pendro. Her tone held a trace of reluctance and... loneliness.

“This is possible too?!” Ian found it hard to imagine that someone was actually practicing the “power of I think so” in the Misty Illusion.

“Yes, so unreasonable. Knowledge could not defeat conviction. Is this not, in itself, an impossible miracle?” The witch sighed.

Just as Ian was wondering if her words held some hidden implication, the witch looked up, her gaze falling upon the scattered fragments of armor outside.

“You need to be responsible for reshaping these guards for me.”

Another sudden turn. Ian was stunned. They had just been discussing Pendro, so how did Teacher Mara make such a complete 360-degree turn? *Hiss!* The thought processes of an old woman!

“Ah? Didn’t we agree that he would find you a dead dragon to guard the door?” Ian widened his eyes with an innocent look.

“That is compensation. This, however, is your duty as an apprentice.” The witch sneered, grabbing a copy of the potion textbook Ian had brought in.

“I only know how to mold little figures; I don’t know how to build moving iron men,” Ian said, spreading his small hands.

Her response was a cold sneer.

“If you don’t know how, then go learn.”

What familiar words.

“Does this count as a new assignment?” Ian felt his presence beginning to fade.

“I don’t expect you to learn it in a few days, but I will check your progress periodically.” The witch, now reading the potion textbook, tore another corner from her gown.

“Next time, go back to that little girl’s town first, and then come find me.” With a light toss, the fragment of the gown, densely covered in runes, fell into Ian’s hand.

“I’m afraid there won’t be enough time.” Ian’s figure began to blur.

“There will be time. Things are already different.” The witch’s voice carried a nonchalant certainty. From beginning to end, she did not look up again, remaining focused on the copy of the textbook Ian had brought.

*Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.*

The clock turned.

Ian suddenly opened his eyes in the real world. For once, he didn't check the time on the wall, nor did he look at the fragment of the gown in his hand. Instead, he impatiently opened his personal interface at once.