Another World’s Versatile Crafting Master

Old Grimm came every day in the days that followed.

While Lin Li continued to make up for his lack of practical experience, the chaos carried on in Jarrosus City.

The victory that day had put Gerian in a good mood. He insisted on taking a few bottles of Awakening Potion from Lin Li as a reward for the group of mages who burned the two merchant ships down.

Under the incentive of the Awakening Potion, the crowd’s enthusiasm surged. Almost every day before dawn, the group of mages would depart from the Emerald Tower straight to the Merlin Family’s businesses in the city.

Unfortunately, the Merlin Family had shrunk completely because of the devastating blow that day.

Dozens of Magic Shooters and more than 100 mages were searching around Jarrosus City like a pack of hounds. Eventually, only a few abandoned businesses were found, as well as a few members of the Merlin Family oblivious to the situation that dared to roam about at this sensitive moment.

Under the threat of this horrifying force, the forces in the city were all the more miserable. They were living in fear everyday, afraid that one of their men would offend the people from the Guild of Magic. This group of bastards was driven by bloodlust now; anyone who provoked them would be poking at a hornet’s nest. They were a group of real bandits—barbaric and unreasonable.

Especially those of the six underground forces. Except Old Odin, who had maintained a good relationship with the Guild of Magic all along, none of the remaining five forces were not in a state of apprehension. When the Guild of Magic was down-and-out, they had each done their fair share of treading upon them. Although not as arrogant as the Merlin Family to the point of directly interfering in the guild’s affairs, those wicked things done behind the scenes had long been remembered by all the mages.

These days, the leaders of the several forces were praying every day. They had never been so devout before. They were just hoping that the madness of the Guild of Magic would pass over soon, or the Merlin Family quickly wiped out; otherwise, if it continued like this, they would be driven to insanity.

Almost everyone was cursing—not only that the Guild of Magic was a bunch of bandits, but also that the Merlin Family was a herd of cowards.

The most reviled of them all was Aaron Matsis of the Blood Brotherhood. He was really driven to the wall. Because of them running a few casinos with the Merlin Family, it directly led to the people from the Guild of Magic smashing the casinos as soon as they saw one, regardless of whether the casinos were jointly run with the Merlin Family or not.

Aaron Matsis felt that he had been wronged. The bastards, Merlins, had offended the Guild of Magic but somehow he was hurt as well. More than a dozen casinos controlled by the Blood Brotherhood were smashed in the week. Aaron Matsis’ heart ached when he thought about it, and whenever his heart ached, he couldn’t help but curse, “F*ck you, Merlin Family. Your whole family was transformed from tortoises. You guys are at ease in hiding, while my casinos were smashed to ruins. If you have the guts, then hide forever, see how that old bastard, Gerian, is going to smash all your tortoise shells…”

Aaron Matsis’ words were blood and tears, almost spitting onto the Merlin Family’s face. But even so, there was still no news from the Merlin Family.

The forbearance was absurd to all the Jarrosus forces. The Guild of Magic now was as arrogant as if someone had stepped on your head and peed in your face, and the Merlin Family could still endure. This was just like the endurance ninja from legends!

Even within the Merlin Family, perhaps only a handful of confidants—like Evan—knew that Old Merlin endured only to wait for the duel that would take place a few days later.

All the problems would cease to be problems after Cromwell killed Felic.

The Guild of Magic’s arrogance seemed to be stinking to the heavens, but in fact, they were nothing without the young mage. What about Gerian? Old Merlin was an Archmage as well. The battle before the Emerald Tower had already proved that the two men were neck and neck.

And with all the equipment hidden in the family, Old Merlin was even more confident of defeating the most powerful mage of Jarrosus.

Only Old Merlin who had personally experienced the battle knew how terrifying the young pharmacist was. It took only a bottle of blue potion to wipe out all his efforts. It was as if the winning ticket was held, but suddenly someone had struck you with a loud slap. What was most devastating to Old Merlin was that, after Gerian had regained his mana, the young pharmacist had even brought out an extra bottle as a backup…

The feeling of despair was still etched in Old Merlin’s heart.

From that time on, he knew that to destroy the Guild of Magic, he had to kill the pharmacist first.

So, Old Merlin had been enduring. He did not even say a word when the two merchant ships in the canal were burned down, because he knew that the chance he had been waiting for was coming…

Old Merlin constantly had faith in the coming duel.

Because his only son, Cromwell, had broken through to level-thirteen this morning!

This breakthrough finally gave the guilty Old Merlin a glint of relief. Level-thirteen was a height that most mages could not achieve after a lifetime of hard work.

Although this height was bought with no further progress for life…

Looking at the confident Cromwell, Old Merlin kept a twinge of guilt in his eyes.

“Cromwell, how do you feel now?”

“Very good, Father.” There was a faint trace of hysteria in Cromwell’s confident eyes. The Waterfall Strike at the Emerald Tower was engraved in his mind. For Cromwell, it was a disgrace for life. He remembered vividly how he could not resist in front of the mage named Felic and how he was thrown out of the Emerald Tower like a piece of garbage.

So when Old Merlin asked him if he would like to carry out the family’s secret ritual after he came back, Cromwell agreed without hesitation.

He knew that once the ritual was held, he would run out of his full potential and would not be able to make any further progress in his life.

But Cromwell knew well that this would bring him a powerful strength—enough to easily kill Felic.

Cromwell was imagining the whole time during the ritual—when he appeared with a powerful strength, would the hateful mage also show a look of fear in his eyes like how he did when he was lying on the steps of the Emerald Tower, looking up at him?