Chapter 119: Jose Porla
"Solid Script?" Noah asked, a little confused.
Bob confirmed his question. "That's right, Solid Script. It's a magic that can compress information, but the principle behind it is very recent. It digitizes information using magic power. For now, only a few people are learning and using it. In our guild, Hibiki is currently studying it. If you want to learn, I can introduce you!"
"Then thank you, Master Bob."
After hearing Bob's explanation, Noah knew this magic would be perfect for him. The concept of "digitization" had vast potential, and he was eager to learn it. Bob, seeing that Noah had accepted his suggestion, was also very pleased. He had been afraid that Noah might have the arrogance and temper of a typical genius and would be difficult to give advice to.
Makarov, seeing the two of them getting along so well, was also very happy. He raised his wine glass and took several large gulps. Only then did Noah realize what he was doing.
"Gramps! Didn't I tell you not to drink that stuff? I just made you some new medicinal wine!"
As he spoke, he tried to grab the glass from Makarov's hand. Makarov quickly dodged. After Noah failed to grab it twice, Makarov pleaded, "Just this once! Let me taste these wines, too. It's rare for me to get out, and I haven't had these in a long time."
"Sigh... just this once. But control yourself."
"I will!" Makarov, hearing this, quickly took two more large gulps. Noah could only sigh and decide to keep a closer eye on him to make sure he didn't drink too much.
"Medicinal wine?" Goldmine had heard the keyword in their conversation and asked.
"Mhm. Gramps is getting older and needs to take care of his body. But he loves to drink, so I made some special medicinal wine for him. If you two would like some, I happen to have some with me."
With that, he took two bottles of prepared medicinal wine from his coat and handed one to Goldmine and one to Bob.
"Noah learned the healing arts from Porlyusica," Makarov said from the side, holding his glass. "I asked her a while ago, and she said she's already taught him everything she knows. Recently, she even said that Noah's skills are starting to surpass her own. These medicinal wines cost him a lot of precious ingredients and effort to make. The effect is excellent."
Hearing this, Goldmine and Bob quickly and carefully stored the wine away. "He learned from Porlyusica, and she even says he's surpassed her... this wine must truly be something good."
"Thank you, Noah-chan~" Bob threw his arms around Noah, his large face rubbing against his. Although Noah rationally knew that Bob meant no harm, the physical sensation made him extremely uncomfortable, and a cold sweat broke out.
They all ate and chatted, and the atmosphere was very pleasant. Noah also learned a lot of information from the two masters that he hadn't known before.
During the conversation, Makarov couldn't help but brag about the members of his guild: from Gildarts, who was already famous, to Ur, who had a huge reputation even before she joined. And in recent years, so many talented young boys and girls had joined the guild. The more he talked, the happier he got, especially since Noah had been the one to bring in most of them. He kept patting Noah's shoulder and boasting loudly.
Goldmine and Bob looked at Makarov with incredible resentment. They couldn't understand why this bastard Makarov had such good luck, and they didn't. Seeing their expressions only made Makarov more excited. Finally, he even jumped onto the cleared table and began to dance. Seeing the flush on his face, Noah knew that Makarov was already drunk.
Noah was about to give him a sobriety potion to calm him down. He could clearly see that Goldmine and Bob already looked like they wanted to hit someone; they were clearly not taking Makarov's taunts well. Noah was afraid that the two masters would charge up and beat Makarov up, and he didn't know if he should try to stop them.
As he was worrying about this, he suddenly felt an extremely evil magic power from behind him. He frowned immediately; the magic power felt disgusting. The expressions on Bob's and Goldmine's faces also turned sour. Makarov himself sobered up considerably.
He muttered in a low voice, "Why is he here?"
"My, my. Isn't this the Guild Masters' banquet? Why has a child wandered in? Don't tell me this child is also a Guild Master?"
Noah ignored the taunting voice from behind him and asked Makarov, "Gramps, what's going on?"
"That's Jose Porla, the Guild Master of Phantom Lord," Makarov replied in a low voice. "Our guilds have always had some friction. He's never liked us."
Jose, seeing that no one was answering him, looked displeased. But he quickly composed his expression and, with a look of great respect, said to Makarov, "Lord Makarov, it is a pleasure to see you at this regular meeting."
"Jose. I hear you've recently been given the title of Wizard Saint. Congratulations," Makarov replied politely.
Hearing the words "Wizard Saint," Jose's expression became even more smug. He waved his hand as if in humble disagreement. "Not at all, not at all. I still can't compare to you, Lord Makarov." But the look on his face clearly said otherwise.
While the two of them were talking, Noah had stepped back to stand with Bob and Goldmine, carefully observing the Master of Phantom Lord. Jose was tall and slim, with dark red hair that reached his shoulders, a sparse beard, and a long face. He wore a purple, witch-like hat with the Phantom Lord emblem on it, and a purple, high-collared, ornate coat. The collar and the hem of the coat were jagged, and it was decorated with an exquisite border and lining. Underneath, he wore a plain shirt, and around his neck, he wore the medallion of a Wizard Saint. He wore loose, striped pants and a pair of shoes that looked like part of a jester's costume.
Noah looked at the fake expression on his face and already disliked him. Coupled with the feeling of his evil magic, it made him feel utterly disgusted.
He couldn't help but ask the two masters beside him, "How can someone like that become a Wizard Saint?"
Goldmine also looked helpless. "I don't know what the Council was thinking. But there must be some reason."
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