Can you judge this?

Blurb: "After a teleporting accident leaves him stranded in the middle of an undead battlefield, Zaire Pit would do anything to return home. Even if it means teaming up with a young lich who dreams of conquering the world, a thief seeking to steal from a death god and a paladin too holy for her own good. As they dive into the largest dungeon in the world, eyes are on them."

"Another undead army has risen from the Paris catacombs. King Le'quein has ordered a full evacuation of the eastern district as a result-" The TV droned on as Zaire stretched his aching legs against the kitchen table. A new monster wave in Europe meant extra work for him. As his grandfather's only employee, it was on him to assemble the teleportation apparatus. He sighed. What can a guy do to get a break around here?

There were times Granddad forgot he was one person. His muscles were still sore from the two hours of crawling through the station's air ducts for a dead pixie. The smell had yet to clear from his memory. Just as he thought of calling for the old man, the kitchen door opened. The stout mage wore his trademark two-sizes-too-small military jacket over a gaudy ensemble of home-stitched clothes, a smile on his wrinkled face. A smile that dropped when he saw Zaire.

"Boy, get your sweaty body off my table," The old man said, the sequins of his pants gleaming from black to gold as he shifted into a military stance.

"Why it's not like we eat here," Zaire replied.

Grandfather was what adventurers called a mana whale— a mage who fully devoted themselves to growing their mana pool with little consideration of other traits. Instead of spell flinging, they would pump high amounts of mana into prebuilt runes, apparatuses, and foundations. In his grandfather's case, the term whale was more than fitting.