The arrival of the Augustine family was merely a brief interlude, and Locke soon returned to his daily routine of study and research.
Time passed quickly. Winter gave way to spring, and Locke had now spent one year and three months at Aurelian Academy.
In Locke's dormitory, he had already finished reading all nine books on the vine hand.
On the windowsill of his dormitory sat a pot of Mandala Grass, which had grown from a single seed into a green vine approximately three meters long.
Under Locke's daily mental energy nourishment, this vine had developed some extraordinary traits—it could even express simple emotions.
For instance, when the air grew cold, the vine's leaves would curl slightly, as if a person were huddling for warmth when chilled.
If it lacked water, the vine would gently tap the window with its leaves to remind Locke to water it.
Today, Locke turned to the final page of the ninth book on the vine hand.
This was the last step to completing the vine hand: allowing the Mandala Vine to fully mature, detach from the soil, and graft onto his mental energy.
This way, the Mandala Vine could be carried with him at all times and, in battle, could be summoned and controlled at will through incantations.
Like a vine pet.
Locke arranged ten stones engraved with ancient runes in two concentric circles around the pot of Mandala Grass and softly recited the incantation.
At the same time, the Mandala Vine, which had been climbing the window, seemed to stir—its leaves trembled, and the vine itself began to slowly creep across the glass.
Holding a fresh flower in his hand, Locke quickly reviewed the standard risks and potential side effects of the final step: mental energy grafting.
Locke murmured, "Mental energy grafting is the last step of the vine hand spell. It involves removing the cultivated Mandala Grass from the soil and, through a ritual, connecting it to my mana. My mana will then sustain the Mandala Grass, allowing me to command it, refine it further, and use it to attack my enemies."
"According to the knowledge I've gleaned from the books, Wizard Code of Verdantia University—the inventor of the vine hand—proposed a hypothesis: the Wood Element Particle Plant Genesis Hypothesis. In this hypothesis, Wood Element Particles didn't originally exist in this world. But after a certain plant came into being, it combined Water and Earth Element Particles through its roots in soil and water, thereby creating the composite Wood Element Particles."
Locke thought to himself, "Thus, Wood Element Particles—the foundation of plant magic—didn't exist in this world initially. It was the plants that came into existence and subsequently produced Wood Element Particles."
"Unfortunately, it seems Wizard Code, as of two hundred years ago, never found the plant he hypothesized to have produced the first Wood Element Particle. So this remains just a hypothesis, lacking sufficient evidence to substantiate his theory."
"But this assumption is one of the foundations for all spells developed by the Vine Wizard, Wizard Code. Therefore, to use Vine Hand, I need to transfer the concentrated Wood Element Particles from elsewhere to my Mandala Vine."
"And the place with the most concentrated Wood Element Particles is the plant itself."
"Thus, the medium for this spell must be a plant. Otherwise, if I cast it barehanded, the cost would be my own vitality. What would wither would be my own arm, my own muscles..."
Locke quickly reviewed all the key points written in those nine books in his mind.
This was his first time truly casting a spell, his first time independently using magic.
Strangely, Locke wasn't as nervous as he had imagined. Instead, he remained calm and composed, because today's spellcasting was the result of nearly two years of daily review, deep contemplation, and relentless practice.
Every step was already deeply familiar to him.
Dean Tungus had also warned the three of them that Corfu Island was unlike the Wizard World—magical resources were scarce here. This meant that injuries caused by magic would be difficult to treat, as healers were hard to find.
In the past, there had been cases in the academy where promising wizard apprentices carelessly backlashed themselves with their own spells and ultimately died.
Locke transferred the vitality and Wood Element Particles from the flower in his hand into the Mandala Vine. The flower in his grasp rapidly withered, while the Mandala Grass sprouted new green leaves, quickly maturing toward adulthood.
Holding the ritual dagger made of obsidian, Locke carefully carved Ogham Tree Runes beneath the stem of the Mandala Grass.
Through these runes, his magical power would officially graft with this Mandala Grass, which had been altered by his own magic, making it an extension of his body like an arm.
Ogham, the ancient language, was the foundational runic script for universal plant magic.
This was precisely why learning the basics of plant magic was a prerequisite before studying Vine Hand.
Since this Mandala Grass had been nourished and altered by his magic for so long—his power strengthening its leaves, enhancing its spirit, and optimizing its roots—it offered little resistance.
Still, Locke needed to focus all his attention on carving the Ogham Tree Runes. There were sixteen runes in total to be inscribed.
The slightest mistake in carving could lead to two outcomes: at best, the Mandala Grass would be destroyed; at worst, he would suffer a magical backlash, bombarded by a surge of Wood Element magic that would turn every cell in his body into wood, transforming him into a wooden figure.
For wizard apprentices studying plant magic, backlash resulting in self-petrification was a relatively common laboratory accident.
But even stranger outcomes were possible. The books mentioned one wizard apprentice who made a single error while carving an Ogham Tree Rune, causing what should have been a grafting spell to instead fuse him with the vine.
However, merging oneself with a magical plant was an advanced form of plant magic, a field reserved for at least first-circle wizards.
Thus, the result was that the third-class wizard apprentice transformed into a humanoid plant, losing all self-awareness.
In the end, he was retrieved by Wizard Code for some research that had been omitted in the books.
About half an hour later, as Locke carefully carved the final Ogham rune, his body suddenly shuddered. Simultaneously, the Mandala Grass in the pot rapidly matured under the infusion of life force. Then, with a snap, its main body abruptly severed at the root, splitting the three-meter-long vine into two sections.
The remaining half-meter-long root remained embedded in the soil at the bottom of the pot, but it swiftly withered, losing all vitality.
Meanwhile, the sixteen Ogham Tree Runes inscribed on the two-and-a-half-meter-long Mandala Vine lit up one after another with an enchanting green glow—a signal that the plant magic had been successfully completed.
Locke softly recited an incantation.
The vine then began to writhe like a snake on the ground, slithering up Locke's legs and torso before attempting to burrow into his sleeve. However, the cuffs of his white woolen school shirt were too tight, and after several failed attempts, it gave up.
Instead, it coiled around Locke's right arm, with the excess length wrapping around the base of his shoulder and draping across his body.
Locke sensed that the Mandala Grass had fallen into dormancy. After all, without reaching the level of a first-circle wizard, it was nearly impossible to keep a magical plant in perpetual motion using plant magic—doing so would consume an enormous amount of mana.
In severe cases, it could even backfire on the wizard, draining their life force and withering parts of their flesh.
Thus, he could only recite the incantation and sacrifice a plant during combat to briefly revive the Mandala Grass, allowing it to attack the enemy in that fleeting moment of restored vitality.
Locke exhaled deeply and walked over to the desk, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief lying there. Yet, his face bore a triumphant smile. "Finally done."
He closed his eyes. The moment he completed the Vine Hand spell, he had officially become a third-class wizard apprentice.
Behind his closed eyelids, he faintly glimpsed an illusory bright star orbiting the core of his spiritual energy. Within that star lay a cantrip model constructed from sixteen Ogham Tree Runes.
The books had mentioned that first-circle plant magic required at least a hundred runes per use, exponentially increasing in complexity. But this was merely a cantrip, so sixteen Ogham Tree Runes were sufficient to craft a passable spell.
Locke picked up a narcissus flower from the vase on his desk and recited another incantation. The flower in his left hand withered and wilted at an astonishing speed. Simultaneously, the Mandala Grass coiled around his right arm reacted swiftly, extending five vine branches like a plant-formed hand to attack. The vines stabbed into the dormitory wall, leaving five holes behind.
Then, with a forceful tug, the five branches clenched together like a human fist, tearing a chunk out of the wall with a thunderous crash.
After this display, the Mandala Grass quickly retracted its vines, lethargically coiling back around Locke's right arm and settling into dormancy once more.
Locke stared at the scene with disbelief. "This power exceeds even what's described in the books."
"First, written descriptions are limited—nothing compares to seeing it demonstrated firsthand. Second, it's likely because my Vine Hand has achieved a high completion rate, amplifying its potency."
Locke glanced around his room, filled with both unused and depleted Deep Blue Gems.
These gems filtered his mental energy, stabilizing the fluctuations in his spiritual force. As a result, the precision of his Ogham Tree Rune inscriptions surpassed that of an ordinary wizard apprentice by roughly thirty percent.
That was why his Vine Hand exhibited such formidable power.
This was the effect of the Synthetic Cube.
Given how potent these Deep Blue Gems were—and how quickly they were consumed—acquiring them in the Wizard World would likely be no simple task. It would demand substantial resources, the kind a minor wizard like him, with no backing, could scarcely access.
Locke swept his gaze over the pile of spent gems, recalling Dean Tungus's reverence for rare magical resources. A pang of guilt struck him—had he been too extravagant?
"In three months, Aurelian Academy's Wizard Ship will arrive." Locke retrieved a black overcoat from his wardrobe and draped it over himself, concealing the Mandala Grass coiled around his right hand like a pet vine snake. "Now that I've become a third-class wizard apprentice, I should share the good news with Dean Tungus, Code, and Patty."
"With three months left, I shouldn't waste any time. I'll ask Dean Tungus what I still lack."
After all, the more outstanding he became, the greater his leverage would be when boarding the Wizard Ship—and the wider his options for choosing his preferred academy.
(End of Chapter)