Mirella carefully observed the young man dressed in spotless white robes upon the screen. After studying him for several moments, she slowly spoke, her voice calm but thoughtful. "The white robes leave no doubt that he is a light mage, but judging from his appearance alone, he doesn't seem particularly old. At first glance, I would have guessed he had only reached the sixth level."
Everyone present silently nodded.
To be honest, the man did not give off the overwhelming pressure one would expect from someone capable of standing against an eighth-level mage like Mirella. His face still carried traces of youthful refinement, and the gentle smile resting upon his lips made him appear more like a kind scholar than a dangerous battlefield expert.
At that moment, however, Drunk suddenly spoke.
