He walked leisurely, his eyes searching both sides of the street. Soon, his attention was drawn to a relatively clean, yet lively stall.
The vendor was a dark-skinned, thin local wizard, dressed in a simple linen tunic, skillfully manipulating a hovering, orange-red magical flame in the air.
Above the flame, several skewers of unknown large chunks of meat slowly rotated, the grease dripping onto the flame, emitting a pleasant "sizzling" sound and bursts of intense meaty smoke.
The key was that the entire process unfolded right before Ian's eyes—from the vendor taking out the fresh red meat from a nearby preservation-spelled icebox, to cutting, skewering, and finally grilling, it was all clear and visible.
"This is it, not pre-made food or zombie meat." Ian walked over. This made-to-order method gave him an inexplicable sense of relief.
"Boss, five skewers," Ian said in the common language, handing over several gemstone shards containing weak magic power as currency, commonly used among local wizards.
The vendor grinned, revealing white teeth, and his hands moved even faster. With a sharp-looking bone knife, he swiftly cut a few slits on the meat skewers, then grabbed a handful of seasoning from a clay pot, mixed with chili powder, salt, and various local spices, sprinkling it evenly over the meat.
The temperature of the magical flame was precisely controlled by him, turning the outer skin quickly crispy and fragrant, while the inside remained juicy.
Soon, five perfectly grilled skewers were handed to Ian.
He took the still-hot skewers, not caring about appearance, and stood beside the stall, blew on them, and took a big bite.
The rich aroma of the meat combined with the spicy seasoning exploded in his mouth instantly, with the crispy outer skin and tender juicy inside creating a marvelous contrast in taste. The pure, fervent, life-filled flavor swiftly dispelled the subtle discomfort from Soviet canned goods and the lingering heavy mood after listening to Musa's story.
The emptiness in his stomach was filled with solid meat, bringing a simple and direct satisfaction.
"This is what they call wok hei." He quickly devoured the five skewers, licked the grease off his lips longingly, and then ordered a bowl of mint-scented iced tea brewed from a certain sweet plant's root from the vendor, drinking it in one go. Only then did he feel completely revitalized.
The previous exhaustion and odd feeling vanished.
"Indeed, food is best kept simple and straightforward."
Ian paid for the tea, reflecting in his heart that sometimes overly complex stories and backgrounds can rob the food of its most genuine joy. Now sated, Ian didn't delay any further, heading toward his lodging. It was an inn located in a relatively quiet area of the settlement.
, with a courtyard filled with drought-resistant magical plants, it was rather serene. As he walked through the inn's entrance, past the slightly dim lobby, and onto the corridor leading to the backyard rooms, his sharp perception immediately caught a faint yet malignant energy wave hidden in the corner shadows.
The energy carried a familiar chill and corrosiveness, instantly reminding him of the Dark Wizard from earlier in the morning, who had foolishly attempted to probe him with a clumsy mental attack.
Ian's steps didn't pause for a moment, nor did his gaze shift, as if he hadn't noticed anything unusual at all. However, within his mental perception, the figure hiding in the shadows was like a snake, carefully weaving a malicious curse. The energy of that curse, like an almost invisible black thread, silently coiled toward his back, its target being his core spirit.
Intending to cause chaos.
Pain, and even damage on a soul level.
"Truly reckless," Ian smirked coldly in his heart. Last time, he merely retaliated on a spiritual level, intending for the opponent to gradually become a squib in the future.
On the surface, it was a minor warning, hoping the opponent would take the hint and retreat.
Unexpectedly, this guy not only didn't learn the lesson but intensified his efforts, resorting to even more insidious and malevolent means. For such repeated provocations, Ian had run out of patience. He didn't even care to unravel or dispel the curse.
Legends cannot be insulted.
As the black curse thread was about to touch his body, Ian's mind moved slightly. An invisible yet boundless spiritual power, as smooth and hard as the most polished mirror, naturally circulated around him.
Without any violent energy clash or dazzling light explosion, the malicious curse power, upon touching this layer of spiritual barrier, was like light hitting an absolute reflective surface. It rebounded back along the original path with even more speed and precision, infused with a trace of Ian's will!
"Ugh—!"
A short, shrill scream burst from the shadows in the corner, then abruptly stopped, as if an invisible hand strangled the throat. With a "thud," the cloaked figure staggered out of the shadows and collapsed to the ground, the limbs twitching violently.
Soon after, it completely stilled, falling into unconsciousness.
Ian didn't even look back. He could clearly "see" that the rebounding curse power not only entirely affected the caster but was also amplified with an even stronger mental shock. The result was that this Dark Wizard would not only lose magic power in the future because of the previous mental shock.