"Hmm? Why are you asking that? Do you want to enter the academy without taking the test?" Linda blinked curiously. "In that case, you don't need to worry. When you turn twelve, I'll send a letter of recommendation from the academy so you can be accepted immediately. After all, you're my disciple, so you don't need to go through the formal procedures like other prospective students."

Actually, this method could be considered cheating and unprofessional. The academy's rules prohibited students from entering through the back door.

But Linda didn't care. She was the head of the academy, and Merlin was her student.

Moreover, she was one hundred percent sure Merlin would be much stronger at the age of twelve—even surpassing other talented children his age.

So, the entrance test for him would indeed be pointless in the future.

Listening to her words, Merlin smiled slightly and shook his head.

"I appreciate your kindness, and I'm really looking forward to it. But that's not what I really want to talk about," he replied, sipping the strawberry juice in his hand. "Do you remember when I was kidnapped? That day, I accidentally met a boy around eleven to thirteen years old. His name was Tharvis Triad. He was just a poor kid with no background. But…"

Merlin reached into his pocket, pulled out a small blue bottle of potion, and handed it to her.

"I bought this potion from him, and I hope you can examine it."

Linda accepted the bottle and examined it carefully. The potion was a murky blue, with black dots floating inside.

Linda's eyebrows furrowed as she turned to Merlin. "This is just a low-grade bronze potion—no, it can't even be categorized as a bronze potion. Its purity is below five percent, which is very poor. If sold, it probably wouldn't fetch even a single bronze coin."

A defective potion had no value. After all, no one would be foolish enough to drink something like that. It was basically the same as risking their own life.

Linda didn't understand why Merlin was bringing up this topic. However, as an educated person, she waited calmly for him to explain.

Merlin chuckled softly and nodded slowly. "You're right. How long do you think it would take a novice alchemist to make this potion?"

Linda thought for a moment before answering, "I'm not an alchemist, so I don't really know. But in my estimation, it should take about two to three months for a novice alchemist who has just started their training. Of course, talent also plays a role. If they're very talented, maybe two to three weeks would be enough—or even less."

"But if they're less talented, it could take more than four months. By the way..." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Can you explain what you mean?"

For some reason, her disciple was acting very mysterious, which only made her more curious.

"Master, would you believe me if I said it was actually Tharvis who made this potion? He did it without a tutor, without experience, without a proper environment, and without the expensive tools alchemists usually use. Most amazingly, he only relied on his late grandfather's recipe and made the potion as if he were just boiling ordinary water."

Upon hearing this, Linda froze. Her eyes widened as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard.

A few moments later, she snapped out of her shock and stared at Merlin with a sharp gaze.

"Is what you're saying real, or are you joking with me? If it's just a joke, it's not funny, you know?" Her voice turned serious.

What sort of alchemist could create a potion using nothing but a single pot?

In her entire life, she had never encountered anyone like that, much less seen their method firsthand. It seemed utterly impossible.

"Master, do you think I'm joking?" Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'm telling the truth. That person really exists, and he's the Tharvis I was talking about."

He stared at the potion in awe. "At first, I didn't believe it either, but the boy himself told me. He was born poor, and I even saw him getting beaten by one of the potion shopkeepers. Do you think he would lie to me?"

Linda was stunned, lost in thought. She knew her disciple very well.

Since Merlin didn't seem to be joking, his words were most likely true. Still, imagining someone capable of doing such a thing felt impossible and hard to believe.

Snapping out of her reverie, she gulped down her orange juice in one go and asked, "So, what you meant earlier was to enroll him in Saint Freya Academy?"

"Yes, Master." Merlin nodded seriously. "I really want him to enter the academy as soon as possible. His talent is extraordinary, and it would be a waste if it isn't honed now."

He understood Linda's surprise. Even he himself, looking at it from a reader's perspective, had been shocked when he discovered how terrifying Tharvis's talent was.

At that moment, he thought that if it weren't for Abel, Tharvis should have been the real main character. Not to mention, in the novel, he could concoct a gold-level potion in a short amount of time.

Such talent was extremely rare—it was no exaggeration to call it the rarest in a thousand years.

"All right, I'll use my authority as the head of the academy to enroll him later. But first, I want to meet him and confirm that what you said is true," Linda stated calmly.

It wasn't that she didn't believe him, but sometimes, in formal matters or those involving power, personal feelings couldn't be involved.

What's more, she actually hated the practice of using back doors the most. It was only because Merlin was her disciple that she agreed to his request.

Otherwise, she wasn't sure she would have made the same decision.

Merlin naturally understood Linda's position and didn't get angry. "Thank you, Master."

...

Four days passed quickly. Unlike the previous ten days, the rest of these days felt more relaxed.

Merlin trained in the morning, rested in the afternoon, and continued again at night.

When night came, he spent time with Catrine, deepening their relationship.

Although the girl's affection had already reached one hundred points, Merlin could still earn system points by continuing to deepen her feelings, which were then converted into system points.

"Fire magic: Fireballs!"

Merlin shouted as he raised his right hand forward.

Whoosh!

Fifteen fireballs the size of volleyballs appeared in the air, hovering for a moment before shooting at terrifying speed toward the target.

Boom!

Ten training puppets reinforced with Linda's magic were reduced to ashes in seconds.

"Good attack, Merlin. You've improved dramatically. I'm sure you can become even stronger without me," Linda praised, letting out a deep sigh.

Previously, she had thought Merlin was talented but still within the ordinary category. After all, his talent was only A-rank, while those with S-rank talent were far above him.

But reality had slapped her in the face—this boy was growing at an incredible speed. His understanding of magic even surpassed that of the gifted children she had met before.

At the compliment, Merlin chuckled softly.

"Thank you, Master."

Linda only smiled faintly before asking, "By the way, what about the boy you mentioned? Why hasn't he arrived yet?"

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