The Legendary Mage (Alavin)
Chapter 116

Celesse and Hamund could only offer so much help; certainty was not guaranteed. Alavin had to think of another way.

The next day, Alavin received a delivery list and, carrying a stone urn, made his rounds, eventually replaceing Balder in the Arena of the ninth district.

This large, jovial man watched the impressive sparring in the Arena with a smile, taking special note of several young Protégés.

In his hands, he held a leather tome, neatly listing over three hundred names of Protégés he saw potential in. But Balder didn't just pick anyone-he followed a process. First, he made acquaintance in private, garnered favor, then observed silently, took notes, and, when the time was right, lent a helping hand.

Balder was not only selecting guardians for his family but also 'troops' for himself. Thus, he valued talent and potential, but even more so, character and determination. Typically, he'd observe for a couple of years before making a final decision. If suitable, he would vie for them wholeheartedly; if not, they would remain friends.

"Alavin?" Seeing Alavin, Balder greeted him warmly. "I've been meaning to speak with you; you participated in the hunting tournament."

Passing by Balider, Alavin suggested, "Could we talk somewhere?"

"Of course, of course." Balder had been eager to discuss matters with Alavin, who had defeated Galos at the Arena and survived the hunting tournament. Alavin's soaring momentum, like a hawk taking flight, had piqued his interest even more.

Alavin, with his urn, left the Arena, heading to a grove at the foot of the mountain.

Balder strolled in with a hearty chuckle, his loyal followers wisely staying outside to keep watch.

"So you've been wandering every Arena, hunting for targets? Are you not afraid that Cobalt Strike will come knocking?" Alavin put down his stone urn, eyeing the approaching Balder.

"Far from it, I'm a man who enjoys making friends," Balder squinted and grinned, his features nearly disappearing into his jovial expression.

Alavin sized him up carefully. "What's your standing within the Mollen family?"

Sharp as a tack, Balder's eyes narrowed into slits. His smile was wide and good-natured. "I have a say."

"I've got a proposition, and I wonder if you'd be interested."

"Speak your mind, Alavin. I'm always interested in making friends."

"I was hoping to make a friend of you, someone trustworthy." Alavin had inquired through Carlys and knew Balder's identity was special, quite likely a direct descendent of the Mollen family. As for the specifics of his status, she wasn't too sure, but that direct lineage was enough for Alavin.

"Have you encountered some trouble?" Balder suddenly became alert; he'd been observing Alavin for a while. This young guy was as stubborn as they came, the sort who wouldn't stay down unless utterly vanquished, tough to the core. Why would he suddenly be looking to 'sell himself?'

Unless it was a matter of great importance, Alavin wouldn't be making such a decision.

"Am I worth making your acquaintance?"

"Of course! It would be my honor!" Balder acknowledged Alavin's value, especially at this moment.

"In making you my friend, you help me with a task." When Alavin spoke of making friends, it was essentially a euphemism for pledging service. As for to what extent and in what manner, that was for Balder to weigh. Alavin couldn't place all his hopes on Celesse's master; he needed an external force to spur things on, and Balder was the prime choice.

"To serve you would be my honor," Balder said, all smiles and politeness, yet his true thoughts never showed on his face. He always looked courteous, no matter the circumstances.

"Help me secure a spot in The Clash of Eight Orders," Alavin stated plainly.

Balder looked at Alavin intently. A smile was plastered on his face, but his gaze shifted, "Are you serious?"