Weaving Runes and the Mentor's Trial

"The so-called runes are not merely flat patterns."

Makley turned around, the chalk in his hand sketching a complex three-dimensional structure on the blackboard.

"In the eyes of low-level apprentices, runes are stamps—press them down and they take effect."

"But in the eyes of a true wizard, runes are needles, and mental energy is the thread."

"The core of Weaving Runes lies in converting mana into resilient 'spirit threads,' using specific frequency vibrations to penetrate the microscopic structure of matter and perform deep connections."

Makley explained as he walked over to the severed-arm corpse Tylen had prepared.

"Watch closely."

He extended his right hand, a faint blue light glowing at the tip of his index finger.

"Rune: Spirit Thread."

Hum!

A subtle hum resonated through the air.

Under everyone's gaze, the blue light burst apart in an instant, transforming into dozens of hair-thin strands of light.

These strands didn't scatter wildly; instead, as if drawn by some magnetic field, they precisely drilled into the Ian Rune frameworks on the corpse's severed limb.

The next second, a miraculous scene unfolded.

The runes Tylen had pre-drawn seemed to come alive. They greedily absorbed Makley's mana, transforming into tangible threads that pulled the severed arm, guiding it automatically toward the wound.

Muscle aligned with muscle, blood vessel with blood vessel, bone with bone.

Sssss...

Accompanied by the faint sound of flesh squirming, the severed arm was perfectly sutured onto the corpse in just three seconds.

The join was smooth as new, not even a single scar left behind.

"This is the power of Weaving Runes."

Makley withdrew his hand and said flatly:

"It can not only suture corpses but also repair magical tools, weave mana shields in battle, or even... weave an enemy's blood vessels and make him die from internal explosion."

"Wow!"

A wave of exclamations rose from the audience.

Though they looked down on Tylen, they were filled with longing for such wondrous power.

"Now, pair up and come up to try."

Makley pointed to another corpse with a severed leg.

"Use the frequency resonance technique I just explained to attempt guiding the runes."

The first to step up was the fat youth in the red robe.

He was drenched in nervous sweat, waving his wand and chanting a spell for ages, only to output mana too violently.

Bang!

The severed leg exploded into a spray of blood, splattering his face with gore.

"Idiot," Makley commented coldly. "Mana Control not even at 1. Go copy Theory of Mana Control a hundred times."

Next came Jane.

She walked up with a confident expression, disdainfully covering her nose with a handkerchief, releasing mana from a distance.

But because the distance was too great, the mana decayed severely. The runes flickered a few times and went out; the severed leg didn't budge.

"Too weak," Makley frowned. "Your mana is as loose as cotton."

Jane's face flushed red, and she slunk back in shame.

Seven or eight students went up in succession, and without exception, all failed.

Either their mana control was unstable, or the frequency didn't match, and some even drew the runes backward.

Tylen stood in the corner, watching coldly.

"A bunch of people who don't know how good they have it..."

He calmly expressed his contempt in his heart.

"They weren't paying attention in class, daydreaming, fiddling with trinkets—no wonder they failed!"

Tylen had seen plenty of students like these in his past life.

"Makley's teaching is excellent—vivid, concrete, progressing from the simple to the deep. He explained the core clearly; the key is frequency resonance, not brute force."

"It's like threading a needle. If you take a sledgehammer to the eye, you'd be a fool to think it'll go through."

Though he wasn't qualified to go up and operate, his mind was racing.

He couldn't activate [Slacker Saint Body] in front of everyone, but his mental strength of 3.4 and mana control of 4.5 allowed him to clearly capture every subtle fluctuation of mana in Makley's demonstration.

"I see..."

"The textbooks say 'spirit is like water,' but that's not quite right. It should be 'spirit is like a wave.'"

"By adjusting the wavelength of one's mental energy to match the inherent frequency of the rune itself, resonance can be produced, allowing maximum effect with minimal consumption."

Tylen felt as though a layer of window paper had been punctured in his mind.

The obscure theories about Weaving Runes that he had memorized by rote yesterday now became vivid and clear under the practical demonstration of the senior master.

Ding!

A faint sound seemed to ring in his mind.

Though there was no system notification, Tylen could clearly sense that the [Runic Studies] on his status panel was slowly but steadily ticking up from 0.1 toward 0.2.

Just then, a timid voice spoke up.

"Instructor, I... I want to try."

A girl with short green hair and thick-rimmed glasses stepped forward.

She was Kathy, of noble birth but introverted by nature, always keeping a low profile.

She walked up to the corpse, took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and adjusted for a full minute.

Then she reached out, and at her fingertips, a faint but extremely stable light flickered to life.

"Spirit threads... suture."

Hum.

Though her movements were slow and the light dim, those few strands of magical thread accurately found the rune nodes.

The severed leg trembled a few times, slowly shifted, and finally barely reattached itself.

It was a bit crooked, but it had succeeded!

"Not bad."

Makley nodded, a hint of approval showing on his face.

"Kathy, your magical power may not be strong, but its stability is your strength. That is the essence of weaving runes. Add ten points."

"Thank you, Instructor!" Kathy's face flushed with excitement.

Down in the audience, Jane watched this scene, nearly snapping her folding fan in half.

She had just failed, and this usually timid little noble girl had succeeded? It was a public slap in the face!

Flames of jealousy burned in her eyes, but she dared not lash out. She could only stare fixedly at Kathy, silently nursing her grudge.

The two-hour class ended quickly.

The young masters and ladies fled the classroom like escaping a plague, unwilling to stay a second longer.

Only Tylen remained in the classroom.

He skillfully cleaned up the scattered flesh and blood, wiped the blackboard, and put the teaching tools back in place.

Makley sat in the chair behind the lectern, quietly watching the busy Tylen, toying with the mithril teaching rod in his hand.

"Magnus."

"Here, Instructor." Tylen stopped his work and turned respectfully.

"How much of today's lesson did you understand?"

This was a test question.

Tylen thought for a moment. He didn't use arrogant words like "all of it," but instead chose a more technically substantial answer:

"To answer you, Instructor, when I was memorizing the textbook before, I could never grasp the concept of 'spirit resonance.' The book described it as 'the trembling of the soul,' which was too abstract."

"But after watching your demonstration today, I suddenly understood that it's actually a kind of frequency alignment."

Tylen raised his hand and made a wave-like gesture.

"It's like shattering a glass with sound."

"As long as the frequency of our mental energy aligns with the magical frequency of the rune, resonance occurs, bringing dead things to life."

"I believe the reason Miss Kathy succeeded just now was that she took the time to understand the rune's frequency before releasing her magic, rather than forcefully pouring it in like the others."

Makley nodded with satisfaction. "Good comprehension."

The seventh-rank mage stood up, walked over to Tylen, and the appreciation in his eyes was already quite thick.

"Many people study runes their whole lives, still chasing the magnitude of magical power, never understanding the mystery of frequency."

"Tylen, your logical thinking ability is among the best I've seen in any apprentice."

He had originally just wanted a laborer, then thought he'd found a rough gem, but now it was clear—this was an uncut diamond!

With a little nurturing, this youth's future achievements might not match Violet Star's, but they wouldn't be low either.

"However..."

Makley shifted his tone, thinking to himself.

"Talent is one thing; loyalty is another."

He turned his wrist, and a black scroll sealed with wax appeared in his hand.

"Deliver this scroll to the owner of the 'White Cloud Eye' rune shop in the city."

"Remember two things:"

"First, you must hand it to him personally, with no mistakes."

"Second, absolutely, absolutely do not look at its contents."

Makley's eyes locked onto Tylen, an invisible pressure bearing down, yet he said nothing more.

Tylen immediately understood the implication—this was a test.

A man of few words; the powerful always kept the right to explain last, after all, once words left your mouth, they no longer belonged to you.

He knew this was a classic trial of allegiance.

The scroll might hold Makley's secrets, or it might contain nothing at all—just a trap to test if he would peek.

It could even be enchanted with a trigger curse that would explode upon opening.

But regardless, he had no right to refuse.

Tylen accepted the scroll with both hands, feeling its cold touch, his gaze firm:

"Rest assured, Mentor. While the scroll exists, I exist; if the scroll perishes, so do I."

"Good."

Makley patted his shoulder with satisfaction.

"Go. Don't forget the corpse your senior sister requested."