The Truth of Magic - Chapter 135

The status of a wizard is transcendent in all continents and in the universal plane.

Mysterious, wise, cruel and bloodthirsty are synonymous with wizards. But what does a real wizard look like?

After coming into contact with the world of wizards, Angel came to the conclusion:

Wizards are a group of people who illuminate themselves with intellect-driven ideas, but are in a dialectical world with a materialistic attitude.

In other words, this is a group of alternative scientists who walk alone in a rigorous manner in the pursuit of understanding reality.

…..

Multiple worlds, boundless overlap. Under the guidance of intelligent creatures, they have walked out of their respective paths of civilization.

Among them, the wizard world, with its unique cultivation of civilization, runs through the endless plane.

Even if the wizard world is so strong, the reality of the universe, is that the mysteries of the dimension are still unbreakable.

Until, a multiverse traveler, visited this side of the world. (The traveler is not the protagonist, the traveler is not the protagonist , the traveler is not the protagonist, things that are important are said three times!)

- Description from Novelupdates

Our straight (?) bottom woke up ten years into the future and found himself on the bed of his childhood friend… At the start, the bottom was shocked to his very bones, but he soon quickly accepted this premise and found the whole situation to be rather amusing. Precisely then, the bottom once again went back to his timeline — back to when he and the top were just platonic childhood friends.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.