"You've got to be kidding me, right?"
Tristin's voice broke through the murmurs spreading across the training ground.
His eyes were fixed on Maxwell, who had already risen from his throw pillow and moved to join the other students who claimed to have reached the required level of mastery in one of the Three Main Skills of Alchemy.
Unlike Vera, Veda, Diane, Ravenor, and the other recognized geniuses standing among them, Maxwell's presence immediately attracted attention.
And not the good kind.
"Yeah... how can a loser commoner learn a skill like that?"
Basil added without bothering to lower his voice.
He looked Maxwell up and down with open disbelief, almost as if Maxwell standing among those students was some kind of mistake Professor Kent hadn't noticed yet.
Tristin shared the same thought.
His expression slowly darkened.
Even if his Master is someone great, who cares?
He had already investigated enough about Maxwell to know the commoner wasn't completely ordinary.
