Nestled on Third Street was the "Qidelong Restaurant," a modest two-story building that, despite its limited size, enjoyed brisk business thanks to its prime location.

At this hour, coinciding with lunchtime, the restaurant buzzed with activity, patrons constantly streaming in and out.

"Two Uncles, let's just eat here," a voice broke the air. Three figures stood at the entrance—two middle-aged men and a youth of about fifteen or sixteen. The speaker was the teenager.

"That works for us. We'll dine here! Who knows, perhaps the food in a small restaurant like this has more character!" remarked one of the middle-aged men, a sword hanging loosely at his waist.

This man was named Albert. Though his appearance was unremarkable, few would guess he was a swordsman whose strength had reached the rank of Great Sword Master.

"Then let's hurry inside; if we wait any longer, we might not get a table," urged the other man, who held a staff in his hand.

This one was Anthony, a rare practitioner of three elemental schools of magic, whose power had already ascended to the echelon of Archmage.

The trio’s arrival was immediately met with enthusiastic attention from the waiter. The young attendant possessed a keen eye; he instantly recognized that these three were far from ordinary folk and dared not show any disrespect.

"Honored guests, please come in!" the waiter declared, executing a deeply respectful gesture of invitation.

"Are there still seats available inside?" Anthony inquired.

"Yes, yes! You've arrived at a fortunate time; had you been a moment later, we might have been full," the waiter replied, leading the three up to the second floor as he spoke.

Indeed, only one empty table remained on the second floor, situated close to the staircase. Perhaps due to this inconvenient proximity, this particular table was always the last one taken.

Anthony preferred to dine near a window, a habit cultivated over years as a mage, allowing him to gaze into the distance while he ate.

However, they had arrived too late this time; the window seats were already occupied by two children who were deliberately eating at a slow, measured pace. These two youngsters were dressed in simple commoner's clothes and were not very old.

"Uncle Anthony, should I ask those two children if they would mind switching seats with us?" the youth asked solicitously.

"Never mind, Aaron. We’ll take this one," Anthony said, taking his seat first. Truthfully, if the occupants hadn't been children, he might have approached them to suggest a swap.

"Gentlemen, here is our menu. What would you care to order?" the waiter asked, carefully setting the menu on the table.

The three men seemed to have little appetite; they haphazardly selected a few items before handing the menu back to the attendant.

The waiter deftly retreated to place the order.

"Uncle Albert, look how strange those two children are, carrying so many bamboo tubes strapped to them," Aaron whispered to Albert.

"Perhaps it's a local custom," Albert observed, offering no further commentary.

"Oh, that little girl is looking at us. Don't tell me she overheard me talking about them? Heh," Aaron remarked, though he appeared wholly unconcerned by the possibility.

"It’s noisy in here; who could have hearing that sharp? She might not be looking at us; perhaps she’s looking elsewhere," Anthony interjected smoothly. As if on cue, the little girl turned her head away, her gaze no longer fixed on them.

"Is that so? But I still feel that little girl’s eyes are rather piercing," Aaron commented strangely.

"Stop overthinking it. I don't see it at all. Are you claiming to be more perceptive than I am?" Albert teased.

Aaron said no more, yet he maintained the distinct feeling that the little girl’s gaze had been directed solely at him.

Furthermore, something else piqued his curiosity: what exactly had the little boy next to her said that caused the girl to immediately stop looking their way?

Just as Aaron was lost in conjecture, the waiter returned, bearing the dishes.

"Gentlemen, please enjoy. The remaining few plates will be out shortly!" With that, the waiter turned and disappeared once more.

"Mmm, this tastes quite good!" Albert praised after sampling a bite.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, a series of coughs erupted from the direction of the window—it was the little boy, seemingly choked by something he was eating!

Coincidence, or something more...?

Albert and his companions paid little mind, resuming their enjoyment of the savory meal.

Zhong Shenxiu was utterly speechless. Good food? This slop was barely a step above pig feed!

It wasn't that he and Robin were eating slowly; it was simply that the so-called food was so atrocious it was nearly inedible. Hadn't even the famously hearty-eating Robin shown no appetite for the spread before them?

Zhong Shenxiu couldn't fathom how these people could stomach such fare, let alone how they managed to extract "flavor" from it! He shuddered to imagine what the dishes they considered bland must actually taste like.

"Uncle Albert, I still don't understand why you insist I attend that 'Magic and Martial Arts Academy'?" Aaron mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Wouldn't it be better if I just studied under you two Uncles?"

"Aaron, you are still young and don't yet grasp it. No matter how well we teach you, you will ultimately have to go to that 'Magic and Martial Arts Academy,'" Albert said with palpable reluctance. "Even if you don't go now, you will be sent when you are older."

"Why?"

"What we can teach you is limited. The 'Magic and Martial Arts Academy' remains your best option for true learning," Albert finished after taking a bite.

"I don't see why... Uncle Anthony is a three-element mage..."

Anthony cut Aaron off before he could finish. "Heh, is being a three-element mage such a great accomplishment? Let me tell you, there is always someone better, and the sky is always higher than the heavens! Forget three elements; even four or five elements are nothing special."

Seeing Aaron's confused expression, Anthony continued, "A mage's strength isn't determined by how many elements they control; in fact, the opposite is often true—mages specialized in only one element are frequently the most formidable. You are still too young to appreciate the meaning of that statement, but you will when you are a few years older."

"Uncle Anthony, I’m not little anymore! I’m already fifteen," Aaron protested.

"Heh, is fifteen so old?" Anthony and Albert exchanged a smile, which only made Aaron feel more frustrated.

Albert patted Aaron's shoulder lightly. "Actually, your Uncle Anthony and I want you to attend the 'Magic and Martial Arts Academy' for another reason."

"What other reason?"

But the two men deliberately remained silent, leaving Aaron pleading, "Uncle Albert, don't stop halfway!"

"It’s nothing much, really. It's just that the 'Magic and Martial Arts Academy' holds knowledge that neither of us can teach you."

"What is it?" Aaron’s curiosity intensified.