The Other World's Wizard Does Not Chant の小説・ストーリー

“What are you doing?” She didn’t respond, crouching to draw intricate symbols on the floor with my blood. The motions were precise, almost mechanical, and low murmurs spilled from her lips—a chant in a language I couldn’t begin to understand. “Things seen and things not seen, let this girl walk in between. Though they look, they shall not see. Grant invisibility, for I am Arson, Sorcerer of Furvus, and it harm none, so mote it be.” The blood began to glow faintly, casting eerie, flickering shadows across the walls.

"Because only magicians are able to control the life source crystal cube in the hidden world, it is said that only the eight cube magicians can trace the crystal cube's location," "But it is very unfortunate, since the war one hundred thousand years ago, the eight cube magicians disappeared along with the crystal cube," "With each passing year, the hidden world seems to be weakening, the spirit power generated by the essence tree is starting to thin out, all living things in the hidden world are accustomed to the existence of spirit power, which can help ease their work," "Impossible!" now Aza's voice looks disbelieving, how could there be a world like that, witches, vampires, werewolves, is

That raged Kye and he dug his heels into the sides of his horse, sending the beast charging at the wizard. “No, Kye!” Syrana yelled out to stop him but it was no use. The wizard smiled and extended his staff to the Khione man that raced toward him. He spoke a line of a strange language and with a smirk, said. “Die.” The ground broke open beneath the horse’s feet, trapping the animal, Kye stumbled but managed to remain atop the horse. He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the wizard who was grinning at him.

She moved a bit, her head still visible to me. “Unless you want to lose part of your hair, step back,” I heard her steps go two paces backward. “More…” She stepped three more paces. “A little bit more…” She stepped back seven paces. “One more…” She did as instructed. “Good girl,” I said. Holding my dominant hand out and my palm facing upwards, I conjured flames from thin air. Then, thrusting my hand forward as if unleashing the fire, I chanted: "Ignis eximius, argentum funditus! Vesta's fury, unleash thy might! Let flames that melt the silver's heart, burn bright and true, a wizard's art!"

"Elysia, remember our training. Let the essence of the Enchanted Realm flow through you." Elysia nodded, her grip on her weapon steady. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on the threads that connected her to the realm's magic. When she opened her eyes, they glowed with an ethereal light. Kael stepped forward, his fists clenched. "Time Weaver, we won't let you manipulate us any longer. Prepare to face the might of earth and stone!"

"They broke the rules. T h o s e... w i z a r d s... h a s... g i v e n... s a c r i f i c e... o f... a n... i n n o c e n t... a n d... g a v e... h i m... t h e... i m m o r t a l i t y... s p e l l. He is an immortal now and you can think what powers he has. He is going to destroy this world."

The referee bellowed, the words that had been suppressed for so long finally coming out, causing the referee to let out a huge sigh of relief! "Quickly chant, in order to reward your bravery I'll give you time "In the common sense of people throughout the continent girls generally serve as magicians or summoners or alchemists ---- anyway, not a very hot blooded profession, let alone in front of oneself is such a weak girl? Even Char couldn't help but make such a judgment.

Mark. "She is not breathing and the one percent is not going. I don't know what to believe again, whether the machine or the stethoscope, ``he replied. "What are you going to tell her mother?" A murse asked. (Male nurse). In another part of America. A wizard that seems powerful was in a cross leg with his hand together and eyes closed and he was praying in spell as everything in his house were flying, the bed, the table, the chair, the couch were flying and hanging in the air as the wizard seems to be consecrating on the spell he was reading.

It was a twisted, hollow laugh that bounced around the walls of my skull like a curse. He raised my hand - his hand - to stare at the heart. "Not the wolf after all," he muttered, giddy and mocking. "But the power… it’s still sweet. I suppose it was worth something." Then he began to chant. I felt the magic stir in my bones, an ancient, foul energy trying to claw its way from the underworld. The words were guttural, wrong. It felt like the world itself flinched. But then…nothing happened. The ritual failed.

They were meant to honor the soul, to send it into the next world with respect. I closed my eyes and drew a steady breath, my hands trembling as I reached into the deep well of magic within me. The power surged through me, warm and familiar, as I began the chant. The words were old—older than the pack, older than the curse that had shaped my life. They were meant to guide the spirit, to send it to rest. But as I began to speak, the power inside me didn’t respond the way I had expected. It was hesitant, like it was testing me, pushing back against the weight of what I was doing. My body trembled, my voice faltering as the energy around us grew heavier.