A day after his classes, Wang Hui returns to his room with a quiet determination settling in his chest, and without wasting any time, he takes out paper and begins drawing the rune model for his first trick spell.
The spell is called Candle Flame.
Its function is simple—when cast, it produces a small flame no larger than that of a candle, steady and quiet, barely enough to illuminate a small space.
Yet simplicity does not mean ease.
Each rune must be precise.
Each connection must be stable.
Even a slight deviation can cause the model to collapse.
For three days, he repeats the process again and again, redrawing, correcting, refining, until the rune model finally stabilises in his mind.
Only then does he decide to test it.
He leaves the academy quietly through the back gate and searches for a secluded spot where no one will disturb him.
Standing alone, he takes a deep breath and activates the spell.
Immediately, he feels his vitality begin to burn.
A small flame appears before him.
Flickering.
Fragile.
Like a candle in the wind.
His eyes widen slightly at the success, but the sensation of his vitality draining forces him to cancel the spell almost instantly.
The flame disappears.
His body feels weaker.
Without lingering, he returns quickly to his room.
He does not attempt the other spells.
Instead, he sits down and begins to meditate.
He gathers his spirit within his spirit space, drawing it together slowly until it forms a radiant sun that shines within the darkness of his Sea of Consciousness.
With his will, he stabilises it.
The spirit sun radiates outward, and through it, he begins to perceive the movement of magic energy around him.
Carefully, he draws in one particle at a time.
Each particle is guided by him into his dantian.
The process is slow.
Demanding.
But his will is strong.
He endures.
For more than two hours, he continues, until a sharp headache forms and strain overwhelms him.
He stops.
The sun collapses.
His spirit scatters.
He rests, meditating lightly to recover.
Before the end of the seventh month, he gathers one hundred magic particles.
Then he begins refining them.
He guides his vitality into his dantian and uses it to transform the particles.
The process is delicate.
Gradual.
Until finally—
Mana forms.
The first trace of mana flows out of his dantian and begins circulating through his body.
As it moves, he feels his vitality increase.
A sensation spreads through him, as if a shackle has been removed.
When he opens his eyes, the world changes.
Colours become sharper.
Brighter.
Scents flood his senses—both pleasant and foul.
He wrinkles his nose immediately, noticing the unpleasant smell coming from his own body as impurities are forced out through his skin.
He goes to wash himself.
Even after that, it takes several days for him to adjust to his heightened senses, learning to filter what he perceives so he is not overwhelmed.
Only after stabilising himself does he begin learning the remaining three trick spells.
Water Drop.
Gust.
Dust.
By the middle of the eighth month, he has successfully learns all three.
Within his spirit space, the four spell models exist together, and he can feel their weight pressing on his spirit, refining it slowly.
He checks his status using the testing equipment.
Spirit: 7.8
Mana: 1.6
He has become a low-level Wizard Apprentice.
To advance further, his spirit must reach eleven, and his mana must reach twenty-five.
Mana is easier to increase.
Spirit is not.
Near the end of the eighth month, he hears that Olivia has already advanced to a mid-level Wizard Apprentice.
The gap becomes clear.
If nothing changes, he will be left behind.
And now—
He is no longer even her friend.
He cannot even stand beside her.
The thought tightens his chest.
Determination rises again.
He refuses to fall further behind.
So he leaves his room and heads toward the task hall.
To earn contribution points.
To grow stronger, he stands before the task board, his eyes moving across the rows of missions, each one offering different rewards, different risks, and different paths, until he finally settles on one task that seems simple on the surface but steady in return—feeding dire wolves for a month in exchange for twenty contribution points.
He memorises the task details and heads toward the assigned location.
Reaching the door, he knocks.
After a moment, the door opens, revealing a man with dark circles under his eyes, his expression tired and slightly impatient.
The man looks at him and asks, "Who are you?"
Wang Hui bows politely and replies, "I am Wang Hui. I came for the task of feeding the dire wolves."
The man studies him for a brief moment before nodding.
"Oh, follow me. I will take you to where the dire wolves are kept."
He steps out, closes the door behind him, and begins walking without another word.
Wang Hui follows.
As they walk, the man introduces himself as Shaw Wolfe.
Wang Hui nods quietly and continues behind him in silence.
They exit the castle through another gate and head toward the beast embankment.
The area is vast.
Inside, hundreds of magical beasts are kept, some for research, others for harvesting resources.
The embankment is divided into many camps, each separated and hidden.
From the outside, Wang Hui cannot see anything inside them because every camp is covered by a Delusion Fog array.
They stop before one such camp.
Shaw takes out a token and presses it against the fog at the gate.
The fog parts instantly, and the gate opens just enough to allow them through.
As soon as they step inside, the gate closes behind them, and the fog seals the entrance again.
Inside, a straight path leads forward toward a wooden building.
To the right, there is a fenced area.
Beyond the fence lies a wide ground filled with hundreds of dire wolves.
Their bodies are large.
Their eyes are sharp.
Their presence is oppressive.
Wang Hui follows Shaw as he explains the routine—what to feed them, when to feed them, how to approach them, and what to avoid.
Every instruction is precise.
Every action must be controlled.
When they finish, and before leaving the camp, Wang Hui hesitates for a moment before asking, "Can I draw blood from the dire wolves?"
Shaw narrows his gaze at him, studying him carefully, then looks ahead again and says, "You can, but no dire wolf must be harmed."
Wang Hui nods immediately.
"I understand."
After they leave the embankment, Shaw hands him the token.
From the next day onward, Wang Hui begins his task.
Every day, he feeds the dire wolves according to the instructions.
At the same time, carefully and cautiously, he draws small amounts of blood from each wolf, ensuring that none are harmed.
He is patient.
Methodical.
By the end of the month, he had gathered around three hundred millilitres of blood.
When the task ends, Shaw returns and confirms his completion.
Wang Hui receives twenty contribution points.
With the points, he goes to purchase materials—Nine Star Leaf Grass, Blood Flowers, and other ingredients required for refining Vitality Potions.
He gathers enough materials for three attempts.
Then he begins refining.
The first attempt fails.
The second fails as well.
But on the third attempt, he succeeds.
The potion stabilises.
Its energy becomes smooth.
Because the potion is his own creation, no one demands it from him.
He chooses not to consume it.
Instead, he sells it.
He receives three hundred magic stones in return.
Rather than spending the stones on cultivation resources directly, he uses them to purchase more ingredients for refining Vitality Potions.
He understands that this path can sustain him.
Can strengthen him continuously.
He goes to the refining room, and this routine continues without interruption.
He refines potions, then sells them.
Most of the magic stones he earns are reinvested into buying ingredients for further potion refining, while only ten per cent is set aside for his own cultivation resources.
Days pass quietly.
Days turn into months.
Through repetition and persistence, he learns to refine more types of blood potions, gradually expanding his understanding and control.
At the same time, he begins to explore Blood Runes and Blood Formations, stepping cautiously into these fields.
Blood Potion, Blood Runes, and Blood Formation are the three fundamental branches of Blood Magic.
Among them, he focuses primarily on Blood Potion, as it gives him the most immediate return and stability.
During these months, changes occur around him as well.
Some of his fellow students are chosen as disciples by official wizards.
Even those whose results were lower than his find teachers and support.
For a brief moment, he feels discouraged.
A quiet weight settles in his chest.
But he does not allow it to linger.
He lifts himself up again, steadies his mind, and continues studying with even greater resolve.
By the eleventh month, while reading in the library, he comes across records of Body Refining Wizards.
Curious, he reads further and learns that this path is one of the earliest forms of wizardry, originating from the martial arts path.
The idea stays with him.
It broadens his understanding of what a wizard can be.
As the twelfth month approaches its end, another problem remains unresolved in his mind.
He still has not decided which element he should choose as his primary focus.
He finds himself drawn to all four elements—Fire, Water, Earth, and Wind.
Each one appeals to him.
Each one feels right in its own way.
But he knows the rule.
Except for the God of Wizards, who mastered all seven elements, no wizard specialises in more than two elements.
Even those who study multiple elements always choose one as their core, with the others revolving around it.
He understands this.
Yet he cannot decide.
And so, as the year comes to a close, that question remains unanswered.