Cursed king of time

"Maybe I should let you sleep for a while since you seem grumpy, even though that is normal for people of your age who live only for work," Aion shrugged.

"I can see that Artemisia raised you to be quite disrespectful of your elders…" Arc said, and Aion could imagine him furrowing his eyebrows. "Nevertheless, you can enter this suspicious-looking portal without fear, and I will give you a part of my mana."

"Hmph, I doubt that will help me that much," Aion shrugged. "I will have you know that I can fly using my magic and…"

The class Mage has leveled.

The class Mage has leveled.

The class Mage has leveled.

"What is this… my magic energy is being sent to somewhere else… what are you doing?" Arc asked, visibly confused. "I can feel that it is with you, but at the same time…"

Aion was as confused as his grandfather. First of all, he wasn't even using the mage class. Second of all, could the souls of the Millerians give him mana like that?