The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Chapter 11

“Is that not Lady Nysah I spy? It’s been a while, and you seem to be wearing less and less, ha.” Alavin’s voice carried a laugh, but his eyes held a frosty glare. Far from being dazzled, he felt disgust. There was but one word for such a woman in his heart, tawdry!

“Eyes wandering a bit too freely, aren’t they, lad?”

“If you dress so scantily, isn’t it to catch the eye? I’d be remiss not to look my fill, and not give due appreciation to your efforts,” Alavin retorted, setting down the stone urn.

“Heh, so full of yourself, young one.”

“Adorned like a blossoming rose bush you are today. Not off to ensnare some young Commander, and yet you find time for my humble self? Let’s make one thing clear, I have no interest in a slut like you,” Alavin’s words were laced with thorns.

“Sharp-tongued as always.” Nysah’s demeanor cooled slightly before she regained her composure, stepping out of the dense woods. “With that stubborn streak of yours, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.” Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Spare me your concern. Where’s that oaf of a brother? Why not call him out, and both of you can scurry away?”

“Alavin, what gives you the right to be so bold?” From behind Nysah, her brother Tyral emerged from the woodland, a sneer on his lips. He had intended to bring his sister to teach Alavin a lesson last night, but she had other matters to attend to, so it had been postponed until now.

“Ah, truly the aura of a Novice Mage Stage III. Impressive, no wonder you’ve been so quiet these past few months, hiding away in storage and breaking through in secret,” Nysah said mockingly. Her hips swayed as she walked, though her words were dripped with scorn. You’ve toiled and suffered

for months, meticulously scheming to reach Novice Mage Stage III, only to be easily outdone by my brother, humiliated in front of everyone, and forced to leave in disgrace. Meanwhile, my brother not only passed the test but was specially looked after for finishing first. The gap between people can sometimes be vast.

“You asked Odell to do this, didn’t you?” Alavin stood his ground calmly, neither afraid nor showing any intent to flee.

“Today’s your lucky day, to have entered the Hot Springs District unscathed and the Botanic Haven without being detained. I must say, I’m almost impressed.”

“You play your games well, but is that all you’re capable of? Speak then, how shall we play today?”

“Are you not afraid?” Nysah’s body was like a willow in the breeze, each smile and frown brimming with seduction. She was so young and so charming, one could only imagine the trouble she’d cause in years to come.

“He’s just putting on a brave face but trembling with fear on the inside. Alavin, stop your foolish resistance. You won’t leave here whole today. Kneel and apologize, maybe if I’m in a good mood, you’ll suffer less,” taunted Tyral, desperate to vent his frustration before he could return to the Sanctum of Mystical Scrolls to delve into the mysteries of Combat Magic.

“Rest assured, I wouldn’t kneel to you ever.”

“Believe me, you will kneel.” Tyral glared menacingly at Alavin.

“Alavin, I actually admire you, you know. Since yesterday, many Protégés have taken notice of you.”

“Is that so? I’m flattered.”

“There’s no deep hatred between us. I don’t wish to make things too stiff. Shall we consider a perfect solution?” Nysah offered, her smile tempting.

“Nysah!” Tyral frowned deeply.

Nysah’s smile was dazzling. “Return the Pearlwort to Tyral, bow and admit your wrongs, and I won’t ask you to kneel.”

“It can’t be that simple. What else?”

“Cripple your left hand, and make it look like an accident.” Her smile deepened, but her words finally revealed her cruelty. She hadn’t taken Alavin seriously before, but his sudden rise as a Novice Mage had surprised many, and it was likely achieved without Celesse’s intervention, purely on his own merit. Alavin had once again proven his talent to Cobalt Strike, and it was said he had caught the attention of many Elders and Elite Protégés.

Tyral smiled; this was the sister he adored. Crippling Alavin’s hand would limit his growth far more effectively than a mere beating.

“I’ve already consumed the Pearlwort,” Alavin knew Nysah wouldn’t let things rest; she was not a kind woman.

“So, there’s nothing to discuss?”

“There was never anything to discuss.”

“Don’t act so tough, Alavin. You know our stature as siblings. Even if we crippled both your arms, we’d at most face a little punishment. No one would really do anything to us.”

“Enough talk then. Whatever you plan, I’m ready.”

Nysah chuckled lightly, and her eyes danced with mischief. “Where do you get your confidence from? A mere Novice Mage Stage III is challenging me. Do you think I’m just another ordinary Protégé you’ve met?”

Just then, several Protégés came walking down a nearby path, chatting and laughing, seemingly deep in discussion. Caught off-guard by the scene before them, they showed a hint of surprise but had no intention of stirring trouble and quickly turned to leave.

“Nysah, don’t waste words on him. Let’s finish this quickly,” Tyral urged.

Nysah blew a whimsical whistle; her red lips were enchanting, and her smile was bewitching. “Today, your left hand will be rendered useless. Will you do it yourself, or shall I assist?”

“My left hand is right here. If you’ve got the skill, come cripple it yourself; if not, then off with you.” Alavin extended his left hand, and his right hand was held behind his back.

“You know nothing of the world. Nysah, teach him a lesson,” Tyral hissed, infuriated by Alavin’s arrogance, eager to see him groveling for mercy.