Wizard Bloodline

"What was that noise?!"

Ronan's face tightened, his eyes flickering as he cautiously moved toward the source of the sound.

Curiosity is a natural human trait, especially when Ronan's physical and magical prowess had both grown, inflating his confidence.

Trying to stop him from checking out the commotion was like trying to stop a river.

"Just a peek. Just one look... I'll see what made the noise and leave immediately!" Ronan repeatedly reminded himself, though a part of him was still apprehensive.

Yet, sometimes the more you're afraid, the more you want to uncover the source of your fear.

Ronan tried to move silently.

His deerskin boots squished softly on the damp ground, occasionally snapping twigs underfoot.

Pushing aside a dark green bush, a scene unfolded before Ronan's eyes.

He saw a chaotic clearing, littered with broken and felled trees, uprooted turf, and cratered ground.

A person lay sprawled on a charred and cracked rock, surrounded by dark red, viscous blood splatters. His chest cavity was completely open, wisps of smoke rising from within—a clear sign of death.

About ten meters from the corpse, a pale-faced man with a red mole on his left nostril leaned against a tree, gasping for air.

The strong scents of blood, char, and decaying leaves filled Ronan's nostrils, making his blood, which had just calmed, start to race again.

The lingering traces of energy particles in the air and the attire of the two individuals indicated a fierce wizard battle had just occurred.

The exact cause was unknown, but from the looks of it, the battle was over.

"These two must have been mid-level, maybe even high-level wizard apprentices," Ronan thought, his heart pounding, as he carefully began to back away the way he came.

He had no intention of scavenging.

Logically, he shouldn't even be watching.

But Ronan had no regrets; he'd seen such scenes twice before, and this time he managed much better.

For a moment, he felt that stumbling upon such events occasionally was beneficial, at least to witness the wizarding world's brutality and temper his growing confidence.

Just a few steps back, and the scene changed again.

Ronan stopped, curiosity drawing his eyes back to the clearing.

The surviving wizard seemed to have caught his breath, his lips moving, energy particles visibly fluctuating around him—clearly casting a spell.

"After killing, is he planning to destroy the evidence?" Ronan wondered idly.

In the next moment, a cold, sinister gaze locked onto him.

"Go!" the chanting wizard barked, his hand flicking, conjuring a large, burning fireball that surged toward Ronan's position, enveloped in waves of heat.

"Shit!"

The intense killing intent made Ronan's hair stand on end, a chill flooding his heart. Only then did he realize he'd been exposed.

Without hesitation, Ronan turned and ran.

"Boom!"

The scorching fireball exploded behind him, igniting the surrounding bushes and grass in a fiery blaze.

Ronan rolled on the ground, narrowly dodging the fiery explosion. He touched his back, finding it slick and painful—likely burned.

Looking up, he saw the wizard who had thrown the fireball walking toward him, chanting another spell, his eyes cold and disdainful.

Ronan gritted his teeth and continued running.

After a few steps, he felt the familiar energy particle fluctuations behind him. Heart racing, he leaped onto a tree, timing his movements to kick off the trunk and dive in another direction as the heat wave approached.

"Crash!"

The burning tree groaned and creaked before collapsing into a charred heap.

Ronan didn't leave himself time to catch his breath, immediately diving and rolling again.

"Boom!"

A third fireball grazed past the back of his head.

"If not for my body training breakthrough... I'd have died several times by now!" Ronan shouted internally as he fled, feeling a mix of fear and frustration.

If not for the breakthrough, he wouldn't have ventured here and encountered this.

After the third fireball, Ronan ran for a while, suddenly noticing the silence behind him.

He considered stopping to assess the situation, but feared turning back might mean facing another fireball and ending it all.

"Running isn't a solution. Wizards have countless ways to track you down. Since he's set on killing me, he won't let it go easily."

After some thought, Ronan stopped.

Then he retraced his steps.

"That guy just finished a battle, barely claiming victory. His strength can't be fully recovered yet. This is probably when he's weakest. If I wait for him to recover, I'll have no chance."

Ronan's eyes flickered, analyzing quickly as he unknowingly picked up his pace.

He admitted he was taking a gamble, but as a mere Level 3 wizard apprentice facing a significantly stronger opponent, gambling was his only chance. Not gambling meant waiting to die.

With resolve flashing across his face, Ronan drew his dagger.

Chanting quickly, he watched as energy particles flowed, coating the dagger with a thin layer of luminescence.

[Charged Weapon].

Ronan held the charged dagger in reverse, hiding it in his robe, and moved forward cautiously.

He knew only two spells, and while [Charged Weapon] was lackluster and of average power, combined with his physical condition, it could still be useful.

After a short walk, Ronan spotted the wizard who had been chasing him.

The man stood in place, drinking from a bottle of unknown liquid.

Ronan didn't know what the potion was, but could guess it was likely a restorative.

Just as he suspected!

Ronan's spirits lifted.

But the situation remained dire.

The wizard, seeing Ronan return, exposed his weakened state without panic or tension. His gaze toward Ronan grew even more mocking and disdainful.

"Damn it!"

Ronan's initial fear and tension dissipated, replaced by anger at the wizard's contemptuous gaze.

With determination, he charged straight at the wizard.