Greatest Mage in the Country

The man was tall and lean, his weathered face framed by a neatly trimmed gray beard that added to his air of wisdom. His piercing green eyes seemed to see straight into a person's soul.

He wore an elegant but simple black cloak that shimmered faintly with enchantments, the edges embroidered with golden runes. His hands were clasped behind his back as if he had not a care in the world. Despite his serene demeanor, the power radiating from him was palpable, filling the room with an almost suffocating weight.

Eira clicked her tongue in annoyance, turning to face the old man. "Tch. Way to kill the fun,Merlin," she said, lowering her sword. "Fine. I'll leave her to you. Just don't overdo it, alright?"

Merlin raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Overdo it? That's quite the request," he said, his voice tinged with amusement.