Chapter 950:


    “Miss Jones, since so many here question your restoration skills, perhaps you’d care to prove them,” Brendon said, unable to hide the edge in his tone.


    “The process is far too intricate, and it calls for specific tools and a controlled environment. This setting simply doesn’t allow for it,” Christina replied evenly.<fne2f8> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? find~novel</fne2f8>


    She couldn’t demonstrate her craft under such conditions—she wasn’t some conjurer who could mend centuries-old art with a wave of her hand. Restoration was painstaking work, demanding time, precision, and unshakable focus. It consumed both skill and stamina, and it was nothing like the effortless magic people imagined.


    “So you’re saying you can’t prove you restored this painting? Then I suspect someone else did it for you,” Brendon said coldly.


    Christina gave a soft, almost amusedugh, entirely unmoved by his needling. “You’re going out of your way to make this difficult for her!”


    “Miss Jones is right—this environment is wholly unsuitable for restoration,” Magnus cut in sharply, his voice ringing with authority.


    Whether she was the elusive restorer or not, Magnus had already chosen to take her as his mentor. And if she wasn’t? Then she was still someone with a connection to that master, and that was enough. By remaining close to her, he would one day secure the opportunity to meet that master. It was the sort of chance others hunted for with fervor yet never managed to obtain. Fortunately, his swift decisiveness had allowed him to outpace the rest.


    “If she can’t prove her skills, how can she expect to convince anyone?” Brendon shot back, irritationcing his words.


    “If you’re unconvinced,” Magnus replied sharply, “then keep it to yourself!” His patience with Brendon was wearing thin. How lucky the man had once been to have Christina as a wife—yet he’d failed to value her. At least the divorce had spared her further insult.


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    The weight in Magnus’s tone was enough to silence Brendon on the spot. Pushing further would only earn him Magnus’s ire.


    “I’ve heard there’s a mural in Jasgow that no one has been able to restore,” Christina said suddenly, her voice calm but carrying a bold edge. “I’ll take on the challenge.”


    A sharp intake of breath swept through the crowd. Her boldness left them stunned.


    “Are you certain you can restore it? If you damage it, you’ll destroy a piece of cultural heritage. That mural is far more challenging than the Half-Faced Warrior—it’s a restorer’s worst nightmare. Are you truly confident?”


    “Exactly! The authorities have searched the world for an expert willing to touch the mural, and none have dared. What makes you think you can handle it?”


    “They even begged Magnus himself more than once, but he refused—too great a risk if it went wrong. Don’t act recklessly. If you fail, it won’t just be prison you face. You’ll be cursed in history.”


    Even Magnus felt a flicker of shock. He’d thought nothing could surprise him after learning Christina had restored the Half-Faced Warrior. And yet, here she was, proposing to tackle the infamous Jasgow mural—a project so difficult that it was practically the art world’s descent into hell.


    With a face as solemn as a judge, Magnus swept his gaze over the room before slipping quietly toward Christina, his steps soundless. In a low, guarded voice, he asked, “Are you certain that mural in Jasgow can still be brought back to life? The restoration of that mural is a challenge fit for the gates of hell—are you truly prepared to take it on?”


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