CH: 94: The Iron Will of Wizards and the Flower of Death

{Chapter: 94: The Iron Will of Wizards and the Flower of Death}

In the mystical world of Elyndra, the arcane arts were revered as the pinnacle of human ambition—but they came at a cost.

Unlike the fantasy tales of other realms, where wizards were fragile recluses who relied solely on spells and wands, the wizards of this world were expected to be paragons of both magical mastery and physical might. Here, to become a true wizard meant more than simply memorizing incantations or mastering sigils. It meant enduring pain, sweat, blood, and exhaustion. It meant training your body to withstand the backlash of unstable magical currents and surviving the terrifying recoil of chaotic spells gone wrong.

Every wizard apprentice—no matter their background or talent—was also expected to train like a knight. Day after day, alongside their studies in spellcraft and magical theory, they drilled their bodies, swung practice swords, lifted weights, sparred in the training grounds, and ran through obstacle courses designed to toughen even the most fragile scholar.

It was said, half in jest and half in awe, that a fully initiated wizard could crush the throat of the strongest knight with a single hand, and walk away as if it were nothing.

This wasn't mere bravado. It was a necessary adaptation.

Many of the magical experiments conducted by wizards were unpredictable and fraught with peril. Without a resilient constitution, a wizard might easily die during the testing of a new surgery—disintegrated by unstable mana, devoured by their own summoned creature, or consumed by a botched elemental invocation. In such an environment, physical weakness wasn't just a flaw; it was a death sentence.

Thus, in Elyndra, frailty was not tolerated. In fact, among wizards, it didn't even exist as a recognized attribute. They were warriors of the mind and body—iron-clad casters who could hurl lightning and survive a collapsed mountain.

On one quiet afternoon, Charles found himself moved beyond words.

The young man, once scrawny and uncertain, had grown into a determined apprentice. He had faced hardship, bled in training, burned his hands on failed spells, and still pressed forward. And now, standing before his friend Saya—who held the bloodline of kings and the wisdom of ancient orders—he was handed a gift of immense value.

Saya opened a concealed drawer within his personal vault, one protected by runes of silence and shadow. From within, he retrieved a blackwood case, its surface etched with golden veins and a seal shaped like a lion coiled around a staff.

Charles took it with reverent hands. When he opened the lid, he discovered not a tome, but a scroll—handwritten, faded in places, yet clearly powerful. The ink shimmered faintly under the candlelight, as if resisting time itself.

"This," Saya said solemnly, "is a portion of the Knight-Body Doctrine: The Dex Codex. It is a legendary warrior-sage known only as the 'Indescribable Lexus.' This is no ordinary training. These movements harmonize not just your muscles but your mana flow. It is the foundation upon which many elite battlemages build their invincibility."

Charles's eyes widened. The illustrations within were unlike any he had seen—depictions of a beast-like figure shifting through fluid, powerful stances. A great creature, part bear, part man, moved through forms that tensed every fiber of the body and drew invisible energy from the ground itself.

As he followed one of the first poses, he immediately felt his mana begin to circulate more swiftly—clearing blockages, invigorating organs, sharpening focus. A single breath left him winded, but his veins throbbed with power.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes.

"Thank you, Saya," he whispered. "You've cleared the path for me again. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Saya merely placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Someday, you'll understand that sharing strength is not a transaction. You repay me by surviving—by surpassing me, even."

Charles bowed deeply, feeling for the first time that the title of 'wizard' might truly be within his grasp.

---

In the Depths of the Forbidden Forest

Far from cities and apprenticeships, beyond the reach of kings and temples, there lay a hidden garden nestled in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

Here, the sun filtered gently through layers of ancient leaves, dappling a breathtaking sea of flowers in crimson. The air was sweet with the scent of a thousand blossoms, yet none dared to enter—because this was the domain of Dex.

Dex, the undying guardian of the Academy heart, existed in many forms. His true body slumbered beneath the roots of an ancient crystal tree, surrounded by layers of flora known only in myth. His many incarnations wandered the lands above, projections of his will that maintained contact with the world. Yet no matter how far they roamed, every sensation was shared. Every taste, every sound, every breeze—he experienced them all. Even in confinement, Dex lived more freely than most kings.

And in this moment, his slumbering form stirred.

"A guest," Dex muttered, his voice echoing inside his mind like the whisper of falling petals.

His mental focus shifted from his avatar's peripheral awareness to his true sight. He surveyed the forest's edge with eyes not bound by biology, but by a skill: the [Eye of Insight – Breaking the Void].

To Dex, the world was transparent. Veins of the earth, whispers of souls, microscopic particles—none could hide from him.

And so he saw it immediately.

Lurking in the flower field like a rock in a pond, was an intruder.

A towering creature lay prone in the brush, over two meters tall. It had four muscular arms and was clad in shimmering metallic scales, its head elongated and reptilian. Strange lenses, like arcane glasses, covered its eyes.

To the untrained eye, this being was invisible—its armor bent light, muffled sound, and distorted magic sensing.

But to Dex, it may as well have been painted bright red.

The Death Flowers had already tagged the creature. One breath of their scent and all illusions were undone before the his insight. Dex could even tell the creature's blood type and heartbeat interval from here.

With a casual motion, Dex rose and stretched his shoulders. "Not even trying to be subtle," he said aloud, yawning. "I'm in a good mood today. If you want to leave, I'll let you go."

It was not a bluff, nor a threat.

Faced with his sudden kindness, the other party did not give him much face.

The intruder didn't take the offer.

[Special Lifeform Detected. Lurking Protocol Cancelled. Commencing Test Attack.]

The message flashed, transmitted silently, invisibly. Not through voice or thought—but through a strange, foreign quantum signal. Even Dex, in all his insight, could not trace its origin.

Without warning, the air shifted.

A burst of unseen force exploded outward from the creature, bending space like heat shimmer. In an instant, the lizard-beast dissolved into shimmering particles and vanished.

Dex didn't flinch.

The particles reassembled behind him.

Not a sound. Not a breeze. No tremble of grass. Not even the air protested the creature's motion.

Its movements did not even disturb the air, as if there was nothing invisible or intangible there.

Then it struck.

A bladed arm lashed out—claws extended, honed to molecular sharpness, aimed for the kill. It was a perfect ambush.

A deadly, precise, silent assassination.

*****

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