Chapter 877 Rough Spellcasting?



Fein stepped into the cozy inn room, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. As his eyes scanned the space, they landed on Imeng, his mentor, who lay sprawled lazily on the windowsill, soaking up the warm sunrays. Imeng's eyes were closed, his face relaxed, and his body positioned like a carefree old man on vacation.

Fein couldn't help but let out a mischievous chuckle. He raised his hand, his index finger poised with confidence. Drawing upon his newfound mastery of the Wispy Tail Flame, he condensed a small wisp of purple flames, flickering with raw power and destructive potential.

With a sly smirk, Fein approached the unsuspecting Imeng. He pressed his index finger against the mentor's arm, the purple flames dancing on his fingertip. Imeng's eyes shot open, his body jerking in surprise as he felt the intense heat against his skin.

Imeng froze, his eyes widening as he took in the sight before him. The purple flames glowed with an otherworldly intensity, casting a dim glow in the room. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You... you've learned the spell in just six days!?" Imeng exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of astonishment and pride. His eyes sparkled with a newfound respect for Fein's dedication and talent.

Fein couldn't contain his grin, the satisfaction radiating from his face. He had surprised even himself with his progress. It had taken countless failures, relentless practice, and unwavering determination, but he had done it. He had mastered the Wispy Tail Flame.

"Yeah, old man. I told you I had it in me," Fein teased, his voice laced with playful arrogance. He couldn't help but relish in this moment, the validation of his hard work and the recognition from his mentor.

Imeng sat up, his body now fully engaged. His gaze shifted between Fein and the dancing flames on his finger, a mixture of amusement and awe in his eyes. He had underestimated Fein's potential, and now he had witnessed firsthand the extent of his growth. He's not just a Demon God candidate, but he might even surpass that realm!

"Well, I'll be damned," Imeng muttered, a hint of pride and excitement coloring his words. "You've surpassed my expectations, Fein. You've proven yourself to be a force to be reckoned with."

Fein's chest swelled with pride at Imeng's words. He had earned the respect and admiration of his mentor, someone he looked up to with reverence. It was a moment of validation and achievement that he would cherish forever.

As the purple flames on his fingertip slowly dissipated, Fein couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for the future

"Well, although you can cast spells, you're techniques are still a but rough. Let me teach you..." 

Fein stood before Imeng, his body brimming with anticipation. He couldn't help but fidget with excitement, his hands twitching with the desire to learn more. Imeng observed Fein's eagerness with a knowing smile, appreciating his apprentice's thirst for knowledge.

"Alright, Fein," Imeng began, his voice carrying a playful tone. "We've conquered the basics, and now it's time to level up your spellcasting game. Make your rough technique smoother."

Fein's eyes narrowed, his ears perked up and concentration etched across his face. He nodded eagerly, eager to absorb every bit of wisdom that Imeng had to offer.

Imeng took a deep breath, his demeanor shifting into that of a seasoned teacher. He explained the intricacies of spell combination, how different spells could be merged to create powerful and unexpected effects. He used vivid gestures to demonstrate the interplay between elements, his hands swirling through the air with grace and precision.

Fein watched in awe, his gaze fixed on Imeng's every movement. He soaked in the knowledge like a sponge, his mind racing to connect the dots and imagine the possibilities that lay before him.

As Imeng continued his lesson, he introduced Fein to the art of enchantments, explaining how to infuse objects with magical properties. Fein leaned in, captivated by the notion of imbuing everyday items with extraordinary abilities.

Imeng pulled out a small, unadorned dagger and placed it in Fein's hands. "Now, Fein, focus your magic and channel it into this dagger. Picture the enchantment you want to bestow upon it."

Fein closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration. He could feel the raw energy flowing through his veins, his connection to the magical realm growing stronger with each passing moment. Slowly, he began to weave his intentions into the dagger, envisioning it glowing with an ethereal light and granting the wielder increased speed and agility.

When Fein opened his eyes, a faint glow emanated from the dagger in his hands. He grinned with satisfaction, amazed at his newfound ability to enchant objects.

Imeng clapped his hands together, a proud smile adorning his face. "Well done, Fein! You're a natural at this. But we're not done yet."

Fein's eyes widened, his curiosity piqued once again. Imeng's words hung in the air, and Fein couldn't help but wonder what other secrets lay in store.

Imeng moved on to the art of illusions, teaching Fein how to manipulate perceptions and create fantastical images that could deceive even the keenest of senses. He demonstrated a range of illusions, from simple mirages to intricate phantasmal landscapes that seemed to come alive before their eyes.

Fein watched intently, his mind expanding with each illusionary display. He couldn't help but imagine the countless ways he could use illusions to his advantage, both in battle and in everyday life.

"Imeng, why does magic often feel weak and ineffective at the early stages of learning?"

Imeng leaned back, his face thoughtful, and let out a chuckle. "Ah, Fein, that's a common question among budding spellcasters. Let me enlighten you." He gestured for Fein to sit beside him, creating an atmosphere of informal camaraderie.

Fein settled down, his gaze fixed on Imeng, eager to delve into the intricacies of magic. Imeng began to explain, his voice carrying a mixture of wisdom and amusement.

"You see, Fein, magic is like a river that flows within us. At the beginning, it's just a gentle stream, barely noticeable. It takes time and practice to tap into its true power and harness it effectively."

Imeng's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "Think of it this way: when you first learn to swim, you flail your arms and legs, barely staying afloat. But with time, your strokes become smoother, more controlled, and you glide effortlessly through the water."

Fein nodded, his understanding deepening with each word. He could relate to the analogy, having experienced the frustration of early magical attempts.

Imeng continued, his hands gesturing to emphasize his point. "Magic requires a delicate balance of focus, control, and mastery. It's not just about casting spells, but also about channeling the right amount of energy and harmonizing with the natural flow of magic."

Fein leaned in, his eyes filled with curiosity. "So, it's not just about the power of the spell itself?"

"Yes and no..." Imeng gave Fein a mysterious smile. Then he vanish out of thin air like a ghost,

"Damn old man! Don't leave me hanging!"