Chapter 256: A Mage's Realm

"You've got great combat instincts. I can tell just from your insights into herbalism. This is just one possible approach. As to how to best use your own concoctions in battle, I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out yourself."

Moira nodded approvingly at Wang Yu. He had intuited her lesson quickly: what she wanted to impart was a way of thinking. Herbalism wasn't just about making strengthening or restorative brews. There was plenty that Wang Yu could adapt to other purposes, like combat.

"As for the rest, I'll demonstrate once we return to my dwellings. I'd rather not cause a panic among the citizens of Liaheim."

Moira beckoned for Wang Yu and Avia to return to her treehouse with her.

"Though those snobby alchemists exiled herbalism from their fold," Moira began, "in truth, some potions do involve hints of alchemy, especially those with magical components. They resemble alchemical combustives, but they aren't quite the same."

She withdrew three small vials from her satchel and set them before Wang Yu and Avia. Wang Yu recognized each one instantly—especially the one in the center.

"Beastbrew. Wailer's Breath. Molten Bloodblade. Three types of potions—each representing a fundamental branch of herbalism. Beastbrew enhances the self. Wailer's Breath is meant for direct offense, to be hurled at one's foes. And Molten Bloodblade binds to weapon or body alike, augmenting the force of your strike."

As she spoke, Moira gestured at each bottle, aligning them with their respective schools of herbalism.

"Based on your own accounts, you're already quite adept with bodily enhancement. And just now, you grasped the essence of offensive herbalism. What you need to understand next," she said, tossing him the vial of Molten Bloodblade, "is the application of adhesion-type potions."

Wang Yu uncorked the vial. Within it, the faintest red glow pulsed from a thick, rosy salve. He drew his starsteel blade, scooped out a small portion, and began to evenly coat the jagged metal.

Then he stepped outside into the courtyard.

Avia and Moira followed close behind. This wasn't something to test indoors—the treehouse would never survive it.

Emerald fire surged from Wang Yu's palm, igniting the combustible paste smeared along the edge of his blade.

At once, the weapon flared, enveloped by a brilliant rose-red gleam that warped the air around it with its searing heat.

Gripping the blade tightly, Wang Yu drew on muscle and fighting spirit. He unleashed three swift slashes in less than a second. Each swing left a burning afterimage, as though a crimson beast had raked its claws across the sky.

"It's much stronger," Wang Yu marveled, studying the glowing blade. "This would be great against foes with rapid regeneration."

Indeed, against slimes and the like—creatures with resistance to physical damage—he normally had two choices: dice them rapidly to bits or pierce their cores precisely.

But with Molten Bloodblade, a single pass of the blade was enough. The potion's heat and biological corrosion did the rest.

Then he tested another variable. Wang Yu activated the Chariot alongside the potion. After sketching out a few attacks, he planted his feet firmly on the ground and struck.

Fighting spirit surged. The Chariot's power thundered through his arms. With a roar of motion, a searing arc of crimson flame tore free from his blade—a crescent of burning light. It howled through the air and struck the metal dummy he'd set up earlier in the yard.

The blade of energy, propelled by fighting spirit and reinforced by the potion's combustive effects, sheared into the dummy's torso and bit deeply into its body, nearly severing it at the waist.

The dummy groaned. Its sundered halves clattered apart. The crimson flames clung to the sides of the wound, melting the last strands of metal until the dummy's body finally collapsed, split in two.

"That'll do," Wang Yu said with satisfaction, sliding the now-dormant blade back into its sheath. It was a powerful new weapon—and with no spells required, at that.

By alternating potions, he could now produce a variety of effects with his blade alone. Even without the Spellweaver's Tome, he'd regained the means to launch quasi-magical attacks.

"Impressive," Moira's voice cut in coolly, "but before you get too pleased with yourself, I suggest you clean up your mess—or you'll have to wait for Avia to get home and explain what I meant to teach you today."

Only then did Wang Yu notice that some stray bloodflame had splashed too far during his testing and set fire to Moira's garden, where she cultivated rare magical flora.

"Av—" he began, instinctively calling for help.

But Avia had already drawn her staff—Moira had simply held her back.

"Wha—?!"

He blinked, then sprang into motion. Fishing a vial of frost-laced powder out of his pouch, he hurled it toward the burning patch.

The vial burst. White mist billowed. The flames hissed and vanished.

Moira's lips curled into a faint smile. "Well done. Now get back in here—today's lesson awaits."

Just like that, time seemed to zip by. A month passed in the blink of an eye. With the false roots now purged from the Forest of Origin, the trees grew calm once more. No twisted woodling had returned.

Sieg and Gewen, joined by a contingent of elves, had departed a week ago for the kingdom of dwarves, intent on dealing with the false roots once and for all at their source.

Within their home in Liaheim, Wang Yu turned toward Avia, who held half a golden apple in her hands.

"Ready?" he asked. "To use the golden apple... and cross the threshold into magehood?"

Avia nodded, seated across from him. "I am. If I relied on my own strength alone, I wouldn't be confident just yet. I'd need more time. But after our study of the apple's effects... I'm sure. I can do it now."

Her gaze dropped to the fruit. She was calm, confident, and resolute.

"Then let's do this. I'll watch over you. If anything goes wrong, don't push yourself."

Wang Yu moved his chair beside hers. In their month of studying herbalism, they'd uncovered new layers to the golden apple's arcane influence. With its power, Avia would attempt to ascend—to take that final, perfect step into the realm of mages.

"Trust me," she smiled, tapping him lightly on the chest. "I've got this."

That smile said it all. She was no longer the young spellcaster who once relied on him. She had grown.

"Alright." He gave her a thumbs-up, then extended the Chariot's awareness to encompass their surroundings and guard against any mishap.

Avia raised the apple to her lips, eyes closing as she took it in. At once, strands of mental energy streamed into her mindscape, calming her and putting her in a meditative trance. She prepared to cast a spell she had spent nearly a year perfecting.

The advancement from magician to mage, just like that from knight to grand knight, involved a pivotal step: the creation of a unique fifth-tier spell.

And once that fifth-tier spell was engraved into a magician's own mana spiral and woven into her essence, it would transform into something similar to an innate gift. It would grow as the mage did.

The strength of this unique spell, then, would play a significant role in determining the mage's future might.

In principle, one could muddle through this threshold: originality wasn't strictly required. It would suffice for any fifth-tier spell to be etched into one's mana spiral.

Of course, a unique spell was best. Such a spell would be drawn from one's own mind and spirit, and the resonance alone would make it outshine any borrowed alternative. The spell that Avia now sought to complete was precisely that: an original creation she believed to be the truest expression of her power.

Calm and poised, she began to sense subtle changes spreading through her body. Avia knew that the golden apple had begun to take effect.

To a magician, enhanced talent meant a deeper affinity with mana, with the elements themselves. This process of awakening would naturally draw mana and elemental energy into resonance with the body.

Avia's goal was to seize this very moment as mana and elemental force blended seamlessly into her being. She would integrate this moment in a spell far more intricate than most within the fifth tier.

She let out a steady breath. When she felt the first thread of mana flow naturally into her mana spiral, she grasped an illusory pen within her mindscape. Slowly, deliberately, she began to inscribe the spell's model onto her magical core.

Where most could only wield a single strand of mental energy, Avia, with her formidable will and rare talent, could control four—sometimes five—simultaneously.

This was the prerequisite for what she was attempting: a three-dimensional, exquisitely complex model that demanded multiple layers of construction, each mental tendril working in harmony to trace a different plane of the design.

With unwavering focus, she set about inscribing the spell she had already rehearsed countless times, both in mind and on paper. Her imaginary pen moved with fluid ease, drawing the shape in her mindscape with precision and speed.

Mana gathered around her, both from within and from the golden apple's gift, filling the spell model like water flowing into a carefully carved basin.

She kept to a perfect pace. Not a single stroke went awry. Every line of the structure, every rune and circuit, was etched in exact sequence. As each layer was drawn, mana flowed into it seamlessly, illuminating it from within.

As the model neared completion, its entire form began to glow softly with magical energy. Wang Yu, attuned through the power of his Chariot, sensed the ripple of force around the girl—the unmistakable sign of a spell taking shape, shifting from theory to reality.

She walked on a razor's edge. A single misstep—too fast, too slow, a misplaced thread—and the overloaded model would collapse. The resulting backlash would ravage her soul.

But it did not. The spell formed with perfect clarity—the result of relentless practice, of the mathematical theory Wang Yu had shared, of innate gift and hard-won knowledge fused together. Talent, effort, and technique: a trinity of success.

The spell unfolded with smooth grace, almost inexorably and inevitably so, as though the world itself recognized her right to succeed. When the last trace of mana from her mana spiral was spent, and the gathered energies dispersed, the spell model in her mind blazed with overwhelming light. She had done it. Once magician, now mage. She had bridged a yawning chasm with resolute, unshakable certainty.

The glowing spell model began to descend into the core of her mana spiral. There, it joined with the ever-turning vortex of her mana and became part of its natural flow—self-sustaining, no longer needing her conscious will to persist.

A faint sound like machinery echoed. In her right eye, tiny components of pure, glowing mana snapped into place.

Her iris turned cross-shaped. A gear-like ring spun around her eyeball, clock hands vanishing and reappearing. As she moved her head, minute magical fluctuations were traced out in whatever she gazed upon.

This was her very own fifth-tier structured spell, Perfect Fractal.

It was the fruit of Avia's deepest understanding—her alchemical studies, Wang Yu's mathematical insights, and her spellcraft analysis all merged into a spell she deemed ideal for herself.

Manifesting as a lens of sorts, a magitech monocle hovering over her right eye, it allowed her to decompose anything she saw into its core components, then interact with those components directly and independently.

The spell would grant her an extraordinary boost in alchemy, herbalism, and spellcraft.

"How strange," she murmured. "I'll need time to get used to this." Perfect Fractal was powerful—perhaps too powerful to wield casually. Even the simplest stimuli became a deluge of data that caused her skull to throb.

𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

With a small sigh, she pressed her fingers lightly to the lens and dispelled the spell.

The flood of coordinates, heights, densities, and irrelevant variables had left her mind spinning. The spell was brimming with potential, a creation born of two worlds and her unique talent—but mastering it would take time.

"Still... I think I noticed something just now."

A thought stirred in her. During the brief moment when Perfect Fractal had been active, a word had flickered across her vision—one she recognized.

Rising to her feet under Wang Yu's watchful gaze, she crossed the room to the map pinned to the wall since they arrived. Her finger touched a particular spot.

The mountain range she had identified lay not far from the elven capital of Liaheim. There lay the Sorensen Mountains.