The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 737 The Stubborn Old Man

"Great Sage, this is the guest I mentioned. "

The student halted his steps and gestured towards Nolan, who was seated.

A flicker of surprise crossed Orrun's face as his gaze fell upon him.

'A youngster?'

He had anticipated an elder, or at the very least, a person of mature years.

Yet, it was a young man who stood before him—one who might not have reached twenty years of age.

"You may leave," Orrun said, dismissing the student with a wave of his hand.

The student visibly relaxed, offered a bow to Orrun, and then departed the chamber.

Now, only Orrun and Nolan remained.

Orrun approached and took a seat opposite Nolan.

"State your identity and your reason for being here," Orrun asked directly, cutting to the chase.

He was a man of direct discourse, with little patience for pleasantries.

Nolan offered a smile, showing no hint of annoyance; in fact, Orrun's candid manner was rather appealing to him.

"As your student likely conveyed, I am here to propose a collaboration. We shall work together on the two-world teleportation magic you are researching. What are your thoughts?" Nolan inquired calmly.

Orrun's eyes narrowed. He had initially suspected his student might have misheard. It seemed improbable that anyone outside the Tower of Silence would be aware of his clandestine project.

However, it appeared he was mistaken—the young man present was indeed privy to his secret endeavor.

After a moment of contemplation, Orrun finally probed, his voice heavy, "How did you come to know about my development of this magic?"

He struggled to comprehend how the young man had uncovered this information.

Should a satisfactory explanation be lacking, he would flatly refuse the offer.

Nolan was unfazed by the question. He had, in truth, overheard a snippet from a student he encountered in the courtyard earlier.

The student had alluded to a "to a peculiar magic project" being undertaken by Great Sage Orrun.

Driven by curiosity, Nolan had then employed hypnosis on the student to elicit details.

"Ahem!" Nolan cleared his throat and stated truthfully, "I overheard it from a student in the outer courtyard just now."

"A student?" Orrun's eyes widened. "What did he look like?"

Nolan stroked his chin and provided a detailed description. "He's rather short, with short red hair, and gives off a somewhat irritating vibe."

Orrun: "..."

While Nolan's description was peculiar, Orrun immediately recognized the individual—his own prized student, Arren.

'Blast it… that ungrateful brat…' Orrun clenched his teeth, resentment simmering.

He had explicitly forbidden Arren from divulging the secret to anyone, students included.

Yet, Arren had gone and done precisely that!

He hadn't broken his silence to fellow students, but to a complete stranger!

What a disobedient pupil!

Noticing Orrun's mounting irritation, Nolan simply let out a soft chuckle, remaining silent.

He perceived that Orrun had reached an impasse with his project. Otherwise, his disheveled appearance and furious reaction to the mere exposure of his secret would be inexplicable.

Nolan dismissed the thought and reiterated, "So, what is your decision? Will you accept my proposal?"

Orrun broke free from his thoughts, fixing Nolan with a frigid glare.

"Young man, I am unaware of your identity. I know nothing of your origins. Nor do I comprehend your motives for approaching me," Orrun stated impassively. "Therefore, your request is denied. I have no certainty whether you intend to cause trouble or harbor some other hidden agenda."

He let out a dismissive snort and turned away.

Having already hit a wall with his research, he now had to contend with an unknown interloper.

The situation was truly vexing.

Nolan harbored no surprise at the refusal; indeed, he had anticipated it.

"Do not be so hasty, old man. Please, permit me to elaborate. Perhaps my presence—and my assistance—represents the very key to your success."

The corner of Orrun's mouth twitched. This young man was not only impertinent in calling him "old man" but also infuriatingly conceited and bothersome.

"I am not interested," Orrun declared coldly.

He rose to his feet, turned his back, and exited the room, leaving Nolan alone in the waiting area.

Observing Orrun's retreating figure, Nolan chuckled softly and murmured, "He is quite obstinate."

***

Two days later…

"Damn it! Another failure upon failure!"

Within the confines of the research chamber, Orrun gnashed his teeth in sheer frustration.

The creation of magic was his forte, the very reason for his esteemed position among the Seven Great Sages.

Yet, despite this considerable talent, he remained unable to devise the magic required to bridge the two worlds.

His frustration had escalated to the point of causing a persistent headache.

"I require a brief respite," he muttered, shaking his head wearily.

He returned to his chair and took a long drink of water.

Subsequently, he retrieved a substantial, dark-brown tome from the desk's center and opened its pages.

Within this book lay the documented record of his three years of failed attempts.

All the details were meticulously recorded, itemizing the elements he felt were the primary culprits behind the spell's inability to bridge the two realms.

Yet, upon a closer examination, it became evident that as the pages turned, the notes detailing his failures grew progressively fewer.

Orrun flipped to a fresh page and inscribed the current date.

Beneath it, he penned the word "failure," followed by "reason," but deliberately omitted any specific cause.

His mind felt utterly drained, leaving him truly at an impasse, without a single thread of a clue remaining.

"What keeps leading me astray?" he voiced his frustration aloud. "It persistently falters. I've meticulously followed the manual's directives, even ventured to adjust them, yet every attempt concludes in failure. Could it be that the very magic designed to connect worlds is unattainable without immense resources and a grand ritual orchestrated by celestial mages?"

In past times, he would have scoffed at such a notion. He was, after all, a legendary researcher of magic, a true prodigy.

No magical feat was beyond his grasp.

But now, his self-assurance had eroded completely, plummeting to absolute zero.

He was beginning to entertain the possibility that the spell might, in fact, be inherently impossible to conjure.

As he succumbed to this growing despair, a voice laced with amusement drifted from the direction of the window.

"Pfft! Have you already thrown in the towel? What a pity."

Startled, Orrun sprang to his feet, swiftly turning towards the origin of the sound.

A strikingly handsome young man, his eyes a captivating shade of purple, was leaning casually against the window frame.

He regarded Orrun with an expression of pure amusement.

"You..." Orrun's eyes narrowed considerably. "How precisely did you gain entry here?"

This sanctuary was fortified by an array of formidable spells. Even a celestial mage would find breaching its defenses an overwhelmingly improbable task.

Yet, inexplicably, this young man had managed to infiltrate the premises without triggering a single alarm or sustaining the slightest harm.

"No need for such astonishment, old man. However, the very fact that I stand before you now, completely undetected and with absolute silence, should surely quell your doubts, wouldn't you agree?" Nolan inquired, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

Orrun fell into a contemplative silence. Nevertheless, Nolan's words resonated deeply, striking at the very heart of his internal struggle.

At the very least, the power wielded by this young man was unequivocally at the celestial level.

"So then, concerning the proposition I extended two days ago?" Nolan continued, his tone nonchalant as he strode closer. "I remain confident in my ability to assist you. The choice, as always, is yours."