"She sounds like a promising one," Bethel said, intrigued. Not just anyone could become an angel. Even reaching demigod status was a hurdle... countless Beyonders remained stuck at Sequence 5 for life.
While the scarcity of demigod potions played a role, the limited number of individuals with the talent to become demigods was just as significant. For example, Vice Admiral of Ailment Tracy was favored by her mother precisely because she had the potential to reach demigod status.
If demigods were rare, angels were even more so. It wasn't just about resources; becoming an angel demanded stringent requirements. Without the right aptitude, even completing the ritual and consuming the potion often led to loss of control.
Even if one avoided losing control and succeeded by luck, there was still the risk of an ancient god's will awakening within, as had happened to a certain Antigonus. He had accommodated the Uniqueness but lacked the ability to suppress the Celestial Worthy's will, and the outcome was predictable.
In the world of mysteries, the power system demanded that one's virtue and ability match their position. Those who didn't measure up usually ended up lost or dead.
Thus, someone capable of becoming an angel was truly exceptional.
Moreover, Alaric had vouched for her decent character, indicating she wasn't ungrateful or malicious. She might have minor flaws, but nothing critical.
For Bethel, that was enough. Having lived through the Fourth Epoch, he'd seen plenty of eccentric angels. If he could tolerate Amon's antics and work under a madman like Tudor, a student with minor quirks was no issue. As Alaric said, she could be shaped with guidance.
Dorian, who'd been listening, couldn't hold back any longer. "Ancestor, and you, sir... are you talking about my student?"
His tone carried a hint of disbelief. He wasn't foolish and could grasp the implications of their conversation.
"Yep!" Alaric nodded with a smile, then turned to Bethel with a knowing look. "Looks like you're interested, Bethel?"
Bethel neither confirmed nor denied, coughing lightly. "I'd like to meet her."
Though he trusted Alaric's judgment, Bethel wanted to see this Fors Wall for himself before deciding. If she was truly promising, he'd consider taking her as a student.
"Fors is in Backlund now. Her address should be…" Dorian began eagerly, thrilled for his student's opportunity.
"I'll go meet her. You can start contacting the other Abrahams," Bethel instructed, giving Dorian a few more tasks before turning to Alaric. "Shall we go?"
"Go ahead. I'm curious to see how her new book's coming along. Hopefully, it's progressed since Jack's last visit to nudge her," Alaric said with a chuckle.
…
Fors was slacking off.
She swore it wasn't intentional. The legends of the seas were just too captivating. As she read, she couldn't help but imagine a new story, which slowed her research to a crawl.
As for writing down the new story? Ha, no way! She'd already enjoyed it in her head... why bother putting it on paper?
"This doesn't count as slacking. It's… gathering inspiration. Yeah, that's it!" Fors muttered, justifying her procrastination. Feeling a twinge of guilt, she glanced around, half-expecting Mr. Jack to pop up and demand progress.
Truth be told, Fors had mixed feelings about taking Jack's commission for custom novels. She loved the generous pay... far more than her usual earnings... but hated that Jack actually showed up to chase her deadlines!
She'd been utterly stunned the first time he came knocking.
But what could she do? She couldn't beat him, and the pay was too good.
"Speaking of the new book, for The Bounty Hunter, besides the Pirate Queen as the female lead, I could give the male lead a few close confidantes. These pirate generals would make great inspiration for supporting female characters…"
Fors' gaze fell on some newspaper clippings about pirate generals' exploits, her mind wandering as ideas bubbled up.
Then she glanced at another custom book, which had only a title and a few lines of an outline, and frowned. "For Clara's lover, should I go with the poet or the noble? Both feel right…"
After mulling it over without deciding, Fors shook her head. She'd figure it out when she actually started writing.
Just as she was about to dive back into "inspiration-gathering," a playful voice interrupted her.
"Are you slacking off, Miss Fors?"
The voice made Fors jump. Instinctively, one hand grabbed a pen, the other yanked her notebook from under a pile of papers, ready to write.
She couldn't be blamed for the reaction... she recognized the voice. It was Jack's teacher, His Excellency Lucifer, the angel who saved City of Silver.
"Why so jumpy?" Alaric asked, raising an eyebrow at her reaction, showing no mercy. "Don't tell me you haven't written a single word this whole time?"
"Uh, well, haha…" Fors broke into a nervous sweat. Mustering her courage, she glanced aside and, as expected, saw a familiar figure... alongside a stranger she didn't recognize.
Who's that?
Fors was curious but had no time to ponder. She gave Alaric a sheepish smile. "I wouldn't say I haven't written anything…"
"So, how many words?" Alaric asked, still smiling.
"Uh…" Under his gaze, Fors' confidence withered, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Three hundred."
"If I recall, it's been three days since Jack last came to check on you, and your next deadline is in a week," Alaric said, his smile unwavering, showing no sign of anger. "Are you planning to cram thirty thousand words on the last day?"
"I'm sorry, I was wrong! I shouldn't have slacked off. I'll get to writing!" Fors blurted, practically dropping to her knees. She was genuinely intimidated. Rationally, she knew this angel wouldn't harm her, but emotionally, such a powerful figure inspired instinctive fear.
***
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