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Then, like a bolt of lightning, Imeng sprang into action. Without a second thought, he reached into the depths of his magical reserves. The air around him crackled with energy as he conjured a small, vibrant green orb of light in the palm of his hand. It shimmered with an otherworldly radiance, as bright as the midday sun.

Fein watched in awe as Imeng's eyes narrowed in concentration. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the glowing sphere towards Bartholomew, precisely aiming for his open mouth. The orb sailed through the air, leaving a trail of ethereal sparks in its wake. Time seemed to slow as it approached its target, every detail etched into Fein's mind.

Imeng and Fein made their way back to their cozy inn after a long day of exploration and adventure in the bustling city. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the cobblestone streets. Their tired feet dragged slightly as they pushed open the heavy wooden door, ready for a hot meal and a soft bed.

But as they stepped inside, a scene of chaos unfolded before their eyes. The inn's owner, a stout and jovial man named Bartholomew, clutched his chest in agony, his face contorted with pain. Imeng's eyes widened, and Fein's jaw dropped, both frozen in shock for a brief moment.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, Imeng sprang into action. Without a second thought, he reached into the depths of his magical reserves. The air around him crackled with energy as he conjured a small, vibrant green orb of light in the palm of his hand. It shimmered with an otherworldly radiance, as bright as the midday sun.

Fein watched in awe as Imeng's eyes narrowed with determination. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the glowing sphere towards Bartholomew, precisely aiming for his open mouth. The orb sailed through the air, leaving a trail of ethereal sparks in its wake. Time seemed to slow as it approached its target, every detail etched into Fein's mind.

Then, in an instant, the orb made contact with Bartholomew's lips. It burst forth with a blinding flash, illuminating the entire inn. Fein shielded his eyes with his arm, squinting through the residual light. When the brilliance faded, he blinked away the afterimages and looked upon an astonishing sight.

Bartholomew stood before them, no longer in pain. His eyes widened, his expression shifting from anguish to bewilderment, and finally to relief. He placed a hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong once again. His features softened, and a mixture of gratitude and disbelief painted his face.

"By the hairy horns of a hobbled hippogriff!" Bartholomew exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder. "I feel like a spry lad again! What sorcery did you perform, Imeng?"

Imeng, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, shrugged casually. "Oh, just a little trick I picked up along the way," he replied nonchalantly, as if mending a heart attack was an everyday occurrence. His lips curled into a wry smile, revealing a hint of satisfaction.

Fein's jaw remained unhinged, his mind struggling to comprehend what he had just witnessed. "That... That was an SS-rank spell, Imeng! A Satan level spell! You really have SS-rank spells.

Imeng chuckled, a sound filled with mirth and self-assuredness. "Well, young apprentice, a magician never reveals his secrets, I'm not lying you know... Let's just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Fein shook his head in disbelief, but a wide grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He couldn't deny that he made the right choice to acknowledge Imeng as his master! After all, his goal in the Abyss was to learn spells in the first place. Now, Imeng in front of him was equivalent to a USB of spells. Not only that, he could learn Satan-level spells from him which Fein badly need at the current moment.

His gaze shifted from Imeng to Bartholomew, who was now blowing his nose with gusto, as if purging himself of the remnants of his heart attack.

After the laughter died down, Fein and Imeng plopped themselves at a rickety table in the corner of the inn's common room. The place smelled of greasy food and stale ale, but they didn't care. Their rumbling stomachs demanded attention, and they attacked their plates like starved wolves.

Imeng wiped his mouth on his sleeve, giving Fein a wide grin. "Alright, buddy, tomorrow's the big day," he said, his voice brimming with excitement. "We're diving headfirst into the magical madness. I'm gonna teach you all my tricks."

Fein's eyes lit up, food crumbs falling from his mouth as he nodded enthusiastically and said in exaggerated manner. "You're kidding me, right? Learning magic from the great and infamous Imeng? I must've done something right in my previous life."

Imeng let out a hearty laugh, slapping his knee. "You? Right? I'd say it's more like a cosmic prank. But hey, we're in this together, my friend. Strap on your pointy hat 'cause we're about to ride the wildest rollercoaster of spells."

With satisfied bellies, they trudged up the creaky staircase to their room. The flickering light of a flickering candle cast eerie shadows on the walls as they shuffled inside. The beds were lumpy and worn, but at that moment, they seemed like the most comfortable clouds in the realm.

Fein flopped onto one of the beds, sinking into the moth-eaten mattress. "I can barely keep my eyes open," he muttered, rubbing his gritty eyes.

Imeng, on the other hand, seemed as restless as a squirrel on caffeine. He paced back and forth, his robes swishing with each agitated step. "I'm too pumped to sleep, Fein," he admitted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "My mind's buzzing with spells and mischief."

Fein stifled a yawn, his eyelids drooping. "Imeng, if you don't lie down soon, I'll use my newfound magic to turn you into a snoring dragon."

Imeng chuckled, finally surrendering to the exhaustion that tugged at his wiry frame. He crawled into bed, tossing and turning until he found a somewhat comfortable position. "Alright, alright," he grumbled, his voice growing softer. "Just give me a sec... and I'll be out like a log... or maybe a snoring log."

Fein chuckled, nestling into his own bed. The room settled into a heavy silence, save for the distant snores of fellow travelers. Fein's eyelids grew heavier by the second, and soon, the world melted away into a dark void.