Not a mere minute had elapsed since the cacophony of disbelief rang out from the woman who couldn't fathom that I, a seemingly insignificant boy, dared to claim the title of high mage. The entire hall fixated their gaze upon me, scrutinizing my every word with skeptical eyes. Doubts and murmurs filled the air, questioning my magical prowess and labeling me as a deceptive fraud. However, amidst the skepticism, some sought to justify my claims, pointing out the fair hue of my hair that resembled that of the wise elves, suggesting an age beyond what was apparent.
Deciding it best to seek refuge elsewhere, I made my way out of the hall, dragging Ares along with me, despite his reluctance to abandon the woman's side. But our departure was abruptly halted when the inebriated man, who had earlier accused Ares of treachery, stood defiantly in our path. His voice slurred and blurred by the influence of drink, he arrogantly challenged us.
"Boy, don't dare to look down upon us!" he bellowed.
I couldn't help but jest, considering my own diminutive stature compared to his towering figure. "Look down on you? No, my friend, I'm merely gazing upwards to meet your eyes."
A wave of contempt washed over the man, and he loudly voiced his skepticism regarding my claim of being a high mage. I had anticipated this traitorous fool would stoop so low as to join the ranks of fraudulent pretenders, but I never expected him to sink this far. Ares, however, urged me to disregard the drunken rantings, fully aware of the man's lack of pride.
"Why, pray tell, should you concern yourself with whether I am a fraud or not? Did I not pay the requisite coin for the test?" I retorted sharply. "Now, kindly remove yourself from my path."
His response was predictable. "Aren't you a cocky little bastard?" he sneered, his hand grasping the top of my head.
"Dismantle," I uttered with calm confidence. In an instant, a swirling vortex of wind materialized around his hand, slicing through his flesh and bone as though it were nothing more than softened butter. With a resounding thud, the hand that was once atop my head fell to the ground, followed by a horrified scream of agony. Blood gushed forth in a sickening fountain from the dismembered stump.
As panic gripped the man, his mind overridden by the shock of losing an arm in the blink of an eye, he collapsed to the ground, wailing in excruciating pain. The spectating audience within the hall tightened their grip on their weapons, ready to intervene if necessary, yet none dared to interfere. A mixture of terror and empathy filled the air as the man pleaded for mercy through his agonized cries.
"What have you done, Ael?" Ares asked, worry etched into his voice.
Ignoring his concern, I seized the severed arm from the ground and knelt down beside the man, who was now writhing in both physical and emotional torment. With a coldness in my gaze, I met his eyes and delivered a chilling warning.
"A severed arm can be healed, but a severed head cannot. Consider this your first and final warning," I emphasized. "Do you comprehend?"
His cries subsided, and he nodded in response to my question. "I do," he whimpered.
Satisfied with his acquiescence, I proceeded to reattach his severed limb. Retrieving a cloth emblazoned with a complex magic circle, I laid it over the dismembered arm and infused it with mana. Like an intricate tapestry being rewoven, the man's veins and nerves connected once more under the spell's influence.The flesh knit itself back, inch by inch, reaffirming its connection to its rightful place within his anatomy. Cell by cell, the arm relinquished its detached nature,
The man raised his reattached arm, tentatively flexing fingers that moments ago were lost to him forever. With each movement, the recognition of his newfound completeness surged within him
"Look at that, good as new," I added a touch of jest after successfully healing his arm, but the room remained in an uncomfortable silence devoid of laughter. Taking the cloth adorned with the magic circle, I departed from the guild hall, leaving behind a tumultuous sea of perplexed adventurers.
For days to come, the question lingered on the tongues of all who had witnessed the spectacle: "Who in the underworld was that?"
dismantle, a wind incantation of my own creation, had been shrouded in clandestine shrouds while I delved into the secrets of the wind element. Unlike its conventional counterpart, the wind slash, this technique was rooted in the enigmatic vortex of wind, boasting an arsenal of capabilities beyond mere severing.
Harnessing my divine sight, I could meticulously gauge the repercussions of its influence upon the targeted objects. This innate ability granted me insight into the mana requirements necessary to execute a singularly refined cleave. This specialized spell, unencumbered by excessive mana, vowed unparalleled efficiency in its execution.
But The inebriated man, his strength waning, required but a mere dismantle of minimum mana output
A/n
i know i copied sukuna's move but they are so badass so i couldn't stop naming them after him
please dont hate i love jjk so i couldn't help it
but if you think i should change them i will edit the chapter after thinking some bad ass name