"I can tell, you know? I can feel it—the aura of Magic on you.
Are you the Commander-in-Chief of this Human Race army? Sir, I'm certain that I'm an excellent Mage who would be a great asset to your forces.
Believe me, I have many uses..." Falan Dao'an explained desperately as he spoke.
Robson raised an eyebrow at his words. Influenced by his past life, he had originally thought the one in the ring would surely be some old man.
But the Mage's tone inexplicably reminded Robson of the tech nerds he'd met during inspections in his past life.
They were desperate to prove their worth but would stammer and fail to get to the point.
'How could I not know he's a Great Mage? If he weren't, he couldn't have preserved his own soul.'
According to the limited magical theory Robson knew, a person's soul in this world, just like their body, had a finite lifespan.
