Magic Thorn Art Application, Strengthened Hand Blade!

The afternoon sunlight was blocked by the thick stone walls of the Wizard Tower, leaving only a few candles in the basement to flicker tenaciously, casting swaying shadows.

After lunch, Tylen sat cross-legged before the workbench scarred with countless knife marks, his expression as focused as if he were dissecting a rare magical beast.

Having just returned from the hypnotic chanting class on the first floor, he wasn't in a rush to practice the newly learned rune weaving.

Bite off more than you can chew, and you choke.

Though the introduction to Runic Studies had opened his eyes to a broader world, he knew all too well what his biggest weakness was at this stage—a lack of immediate combat power.

In this wizard world where the strong preyed on the weak, theoretical knowledge was important, but when you walked down a dark alley and faced a dagger aimed at your kidney, you couldn't exactly lecture the guy on "the principle of spiritual resonance."

What you needed was a blade, or... a hand sharper than one.

"Magic Thorn Art."

Tylen muttered the name under his breath.

Last night's failure hadn't discouraged him; instead, it had stirred his competitive spirit as a relentless grinder.

Especially this morning, Makley's lecture on "frequency resonance" and "three-dimensional weaving" had been like a key, unlocking a door in his thinking.

"My previous approach was wrong."

Tylen looked at his left hand, its slender fingers pale in the candlelight.

"I treated my palm as a flat surface for enchantment, but in reality, the palm is an extremely complex three-dimensional structure."

"Bones, muscles, skin—each layer has a different density and resonance frequency."

"For a magic blade to attach stably, I need to build a layered, three-dimensional resonance model, just like weaving runes."

He took a deep breath.

Under the boost of the Slacker Saint Body, Tylen's mind began to race, his 30-fold thought acceleration allowing him to simulate hundreds of magic circuit paths in an instant.

"Tuning... resonance... stretching..."

He closed his eyes, feeling the warm flow of magic within him.

A bit of mental energy was consumed, guiding the magic toward his left hand.

This time, he didn't rush to cover the entire hand. Instead, he tried to construct a three-dimensional net-like structure, wrapping around his palm like a glove.

"Magic Thorn Art!"

Hum!

An extremely faint buzzing sound echoed in the air.

Tylen's eyes snapped open.

He could clearly feel a transparent film, like flowing air, covering the surface of his palm.

The sensation was strange—like wearing an invisible silk glove, smooth and cold, yet carrying a chilling sharpness.

But then...

Pop.

It lasted only a second before the film burst like a punctured bubble.

The magic dissipated, and his hand returned to normal.

Though it failed, a wild grin tugged at the corner of Tylen's mouth.

Because a prompt appeared in his mind:

[Magic Thorn Art EXP +50]

"Exactly!"

Tylen punched the air fiercely.

"You really need to listen to the masters! Yesterday, fumbling on my own at 30x speed, I only got 20 EXP per try. Today, with theoretical guidance, the efficiency more than doubled!"

That was the power of knowledge.

In this world, knowledge wasn't just power—it was a real EXP multiplier.

Without pausing, Tylen immediately began reviewing the process.

"Why did it break?"

"Because the magic supply was insufficient."

"My total magic is at 4.5, but my 1:1 magic control is average. Now I can try pushing further."

In his previous attempts, he used 1 point of mental energy to channel 1 point of magic.

That kind of "small pipe" flow naturally couldn't sustain the consumption of a three-dimensional structure.

"So... double it!"

Tylen's gaze sharpened.

He mobilized his mental energy again.

This time, he grew bolder, directly using 1 point of mental energy to forcibly wrap around 2 points of mana and surge toward his left hand.

This kind of operation was extremely dangerous for ordinary apprentices; the slightest misstep could lead to mana backlash, leaving his mind in a daze for a day or even several days.

But now, with his Slacker Saint Body, his recovery efficiency was fast—this was his trump card for daring to do this!

Under Tylen's current thirtyfold efficiency of thought and execution, the mana obediently intertwined according to his will, the process going far smoother than he had anticipated.

"Looks like I need to push for more extreme attempts in the future."

"Three-dimensional weaving... dual resonance..."

Hum—

This time, the transparent film became noticeably thicker, even faintly emitting a hint of deep blue light.

The sharpness was even more intense. Tylen felt that if he lightly brushed a table corner right now, he could slice it clean off.

One second... two seconds...

Pop.

The film shattered again.

[Magic Thorn Art experience +65]

[Congratulations! Magic Thorn Art upgraded to Lv.2 (57/200)]

Upgraded!

With the skill level increase, Tylen felt some instinctive memories about mana micro-manipulation flood into his mind, the main effect being a 20% boost to the sharpness of Magic Thorn Art.

But he wasn't satisfied.

"Still not stable enough."

Tylen frowned, staring at his palm.

"Two seconds—completely useless in actual combat. Plus, covering the whole palm consumes too much, and the structure is too complex."

He scratched his head, unconsciously mimicking a hand-chop motion.

Suddenly, he froze.

A flash of inspiration struck like lightning.

"Wait... why do I need to cover the whole palm?"

"I'm not training for an iron palm, nor am I trying to catch bullets."

"What I need is offense! Cutting!"

Tylen's gaze locked onto the hypothenar region of his palm—the outer edge.

"What if I only reinforce this part?"

"Like the blade of a knife—I just need this one line to be sharp enough!"

Narrow the scope, concentrate the power.

Wasn't this the principle of pressure from physics in his past life? The smaller the force area, the greater the pressure!

"Let's try!"

Tylen glanced at his attribute panel. His mental energy had only 1 point left.

All or nothing.

"Magic Thorn Art—Partial Enhancement!"

Boom!

The last point of mental energy burned, channeling 2 points of mana, madly surging toward the hypothenar region of his left hand.

This time, there was no need to construct a complex three-dimensional model for the whole palm—just high-density mana compression and oscillation along this narrow edge.

Hum!

A crisp, pleasant ringing sound.

Tylen's pupils dilated sharply.

On the outer side of his left palm, a transparent blade only a few millimeters thick but extremely solid had condensed and wrapped around it.

It was no longer an unstable bubble, but a true crystal blade formed from mana, perfectly adhering to his skin.

No trembling, no collapse.

It just existed there quietly, radiating a bone-chilling coldness.

[Magic Thorn Art experience +70]

"It worked!"

Tylen's heart pounded wildly.

He turned around and looked at the middle-aged man's corpse on the workbench beside him, which hadn't been dealt with yet.

It was the body of a sturdy dockworker, cause of death: cerebral hemorrhage from excessive drinking. His arms were thick with muscle, his bones large and strong.

"Come, test the quality."

Tylen took a deep breath, raising his left hand high, fingers pressed together, palm taut.

At this moment, his hand was no longer mere flesh and blood, but a battle-axe poised to strike.

"Chop!"

No flashy moves, just a simple hand-blade cleaving down.

Thud!

Crack!

The sound was dull and crisp.

There was no imagined resistance, nor any gory mess of flying flesh and blood.

Tylen's palm cut through the mercenary's rough skin and tough muscle like slicing into a watermelon.

Then came a grating sound of bone breaking.

The ulna, thicker than an ordinary person's wrist, was neatly severed under the high-frequency oscillation of the magical blade!

The entire forearm fell to the ground with a muffled thump.

Tylen withdrew his hand, looking at his unharmed palm. Though covered in blood, its sharpness was undeniable.

"This..."

Tylen stared at the severed arm on the ground, then at his own hand, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock.

"This power... is stronger than an ordinary steel blade!"

"Though it can't match the smoothness of enchanted alchemical weapons, this is bare-handed!"

"This means, in any situation where I'm disarmed or can't carry a weapon, I still have lethal killing power."

Tylen couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"From now on, if anyone dares to try catching my blade bare-handed, I'll show them what 'harder than steel' really means."

"This ordinary-looking hand can casually slice off someone's head in a critical moment."

An unprecedented sense of security surged through him.

In this perilous wizard world, he was no longer the bottom-tier apprentice at anyone's mercy, but a hunter with a blade hidden in his hand.

"Phew..."

Letting out a long breath, Tylen dispersed the magic from his hand.

An intense wave of fatigue hit him; his spirit energy was completely drained.

But he didn't rest immediately. On instinct, he reached for the Meditation Essential Oil, only to realize the ten bottles from the lottery were already gone.

"Too bad, missing that 5% speed boost."

He crossed his legs and closed his eyes.

With the blessing of the Slacker Saint Body, his withered Spirit Sea began to rapidly replenish.

An hour later.

Tylen opened his eyes, refreshed and invigorated.

[Spirit: 3.4 → 3.5]

Another 0.1 increase!

This feeling of seeing himself grow stronger every day was even more satisfying than watching stocks hit their daily limit in his past life.

"Alright, power-up complete. Time to work."

Tylen stood up, stretched his limbs, then pulled out the parchment Senior Sister Violet Star had given him.

Though he now had the means to protect himself, clinging to a powerful ally was still the top priority for getting ahead in the Wizard Tower.

Violet Star, a beautiful senior sister with both strength and backing, was currently the thickest thigh to latch onto.

"Let me see what kind of corpse this young lady wants..."

Tylen unfurled the parchment and looked at it by candlelight.

But when he made out the three lines of text, his brow instantly furrowed into a deep frown.

Requirements List:

Pure Spirit: An infant who died within the past 24 hours, under one year of age. (Note: Must not have undergone baptism; spirit must be pure.)

Drug Overdose Body: An ordinary person who died from an overdose of alchemical potions within the past 10 hours. (Note: Must retain complete drug residue reactions.)

Withered Shell: A person who died after being possessed by an evil spirit, their spirit completely drained dry. (Note: The corpse must appear grayish-white with no lividity.)

"..."

Tylen rubbed his throbbing temples and couldn't help but complain:

"This isn't corpse-hunting, this is making a wish list."

"The first two are tough, but if you poke around the Abandoned Infant Tower in the slums or the addict dens in the black market, you might get lucky if fortune smiles on you."

"But this third one..."

Tylen stared at the line reading "has been possessed by an evil spirit," the corner of his mouth twitching.

Possession by an evil spirit was already a low-probability event, and most possessed people fell into a frenzy, only to be burned to ash by the guards.

Finding a corpse that was "spiritually depleted but physically intact" was as hard as digging a winning lottery ticket out of a trash heap.

"No wonder it pays 2000 Purple Gold Coins."

"This money really isn't easy to earn."

Tylen sighed and tucked the parchment away.

Hard as it was, he had to get it done.

This wasn't just a mission—it was his ticket to curry favor with that beautiful senior sister.

"Looks like tonight's going to be a sleepless one."