Weakness To Magic Oblivion Novels & Stories

It used to be a brand against her pride, something to scoff and turn her nose up at, but now she wished she hadn’t been so vain. A white flame enveloped her fist at last, only to fizzle out as soon as she looked at it. Still, it was the only progress she had made in hours, and she grasped at the thin straw like a starving man to bread. Twice more she managed it, a little longer each time—but whenever she so much as tapped the dummies to see what damage her magic could do, it sputtered to nothingness again. She couldn’t even drive it to combustion the way she had during the Gauntlet against Doufan and Aimee; her body was too weak. This was all she had.

Seeing this, the fat god couldn't begin to comprehend how the man could do this. Giving out such immense soul strength would only weaken the man until he ran out of fuel and dissipates into nonexistence. "Since you want to suicide, then farewell destroyer of my world," the fat god felt at ease since he couldn't see an escape route for the man. No matter how the man struggles it will all just be in vain since his binding magic will only continue to get bigger and powerful and at the same time, the man will weaken by each second passes.

Her heart was still beating as if her body refused to give up, and I had never prayed more ardently than I prayed now, begging the Goddess not to take her away from me. I tried to ram the barrier down over and over again, but the witch's magic turned out to be surprisingly unbreakable. I snarled at her and stepped back, forcing myself to conquer the fury and anguish within me. Melantha had taught me a thing or two about magic, and the first thing I remembered was that there were no unbreakable spells. Every magic had a weakness. Did she happen to reveal hers?

I don’t want to risk her trying to kill me in my sleep or running away before I can reject her. As soon as the seal is set, I feel my eyes return to normal and the last flicker of my magic fade out, and with it, the last of my strength. Using the wall for support, I manage to get myself to my bedroom, but as soon as I step in, my body gives out entirely. No longer able to withstand the abuse and overuse it has had to endure, my vision becomes blurry, and my room begins to spin as I see the floor coming closer until all I see is darkness.

“You will train your witch part, but it won't be the main focus. Your body needs to be conditioned to magic; without the necessary strength, magic will exact its toll, draining your life force.” I sighed, remembering the exhaustion that overcame me after using enchantments. “Is that why I get so exhausted?” I looked at Harvey, intrigued. “Yes, you're weak!” Harvey stopped and stared at me. His intense gaze made me tremble. I shivered under the penetrating gaze of the Lycan King and decided to respond with determination, countering his statement that had bothered me. “It must be tough for you to have received such a weak Luna!” I replied defiantly.

The energy within this body no longer weighed me down as heavily as it once did. Mother Serena has undoubtedly overused her own body. There's a price to pay for wielding such potent magic; the stronger the power, the weaker the physical form becomes. Many magicians resort to drastic measures to maintain their outward appearance, sacrificing the vitality of the young to preserve their own youthfulness. But why resort to such drastic measures, as the ones Mother Serena has taken.

Morgana said coldly. Adrian raised his hands. Purple light flickered weakly around his fingers. The crowd murmured. This was nothing compared to the others. He tried to levitate a stone. It lifted a few inches, wobbled, then dropped. Whispers spread. "So weak." "Pathetic." Adrian's face flushed. He tried to summon water. A few drops appeared, then evaporated. My chest tightened watching him struggle. Everything else about him seemed so capable. Why was his magic so weak?

" My breath caught as I turned. Shadowy figures walked through the forests in the distance. Lilith's army was assembling. Getting ready for another assault. "There isn't any time," I whispered. "What is her weakness, please?" The outlaw inhaled deeply. She has a connection to the magic that made her. She will tumble if you break that connection. I squinted. "How can I accomplish that?" His eyes grew gloomy. "The same way—through a ritual—that she was made." I felt a pit in my gut. "You're implying that I must employ dark magic?" The rogue gave a sad nod.

“As a werewolf, we are born warriors, fighters. We do not yield to defeat." I struggled to find the words, my voice hoarse and weak. "But I have been defeated," I whispered, the weight of my failure heavy upon my shoulders. "I am broken, beaten. He has magical strength which is unheard of and to top it off he also has magic. Only the moon goddess knows what he has hidden within his body that gives him such power. “I gave him everything I had. My punches shattered the walls and the entire training halls. That should have knocked him out unconscious but he was standing long enough to stab me with wolfsbane. How am I going to beat my own weakness and his magic when I am limited."

Too hungry. Killian’s knees still pressed to the cold stone, but the talisman’s burn had faded to nothing. The invisible walls around his magic were gone. His shadows surged at once — a living tide inside him, ready to pour out and choke every light in the room. But that same power… bent toward the First’s pull. Like it recognized the voice. From above, the thudding of boots drew closer — the guild forcing their way down. Harlow’s voice carried, raw and sharp: