Magicians never make wishes

"I hope..."

"Learn the magic on this parchment immediately."

Inside a tent at the edge of a temporary camp on the outskirts of the Monster Forest.

A handsome white-haired boy dressed in a magic robe is crammed into a small tent, making a wish on a piece of parchment in his hand.

Time passed slowly, the parchment remained blank, and he had not learned any magic.

"Fictional information cannot satisfy..."

The boy breathed a sigh of relief and decided to write his discovery down on a blank piece of parchment.

"Exploring patterns is still too dangerous..."

After saying that, he gave a self-deprecating laugh.

"But if we don't do it this way, are we supposed to complete the magic ourselves?"

"My lord mage...are you resting?"

A timid question came from outside the tent.

"What's wrong?"

Recognizing who it was, the boy stood up and stuffed the parchment into his robe.

"Two, two young masters, again..." the maid outside the tent stammered.

Before he could finish speaking, the tent flap was pulled open, and the white-haired boy stepped out, his face instantly displaying a maturity beyond his years.

His name is Ronan.

Not long ago, I was struck by a meteorite and sent to this fantastical world.

My current identity is that of a mage who has mastered multiple zero-ring spells and is registered as an adventurer.

Unfortunately, as the original owner's soul dissipated, the magic he possessed also vanished without a trace.

Ronan could only extract complete magical knowledge little by little by sorting through the original owner's scattered fragments of memory.

This is a long process.

Therefore, it is understandable that Ronan, who just transmigrated yesterday, has not been able to piece together a complete spell.

At this moment.

Beside the campfire at the makeshift camp, a dispute between brothers was unfolding.

"You did it on purpose! How could you run into such a big rock?! It was clearly..."

The eldest young master's face turned bright red as he pointed at the second young master opposite him.

The employer's party consisted of four people: a young lady with a maid, and two brothers who were pursuing her.

"What do you mean 'obvious'? Who in their right mind would go and run into a rock?" the second young master retorted sarcastically.

"You're clearly looking at me..."

The young master clenched his fist, glanced at the other person's bleeding arm, and trembled slightly.

If you were to admit it in front of the young lady, what difference would that be from surrendering?

"Hey bro, you're a grown man, are you afraid of blood?"

Seeing that the other party was speechless, the second young master directly pointed out the problem.

He swung his injured arm, intentionally or unintentionally splattering blood onto the other person.

"You should have said so earlier! I would have just stayed away from you, why are you blaming me now..."

"You, you, you..."

The eldest young master was so angry he couldn't speak, and he couldn't bear to see the second young master's act of spitting blood, so he simply drew his sword and roared.

"I challenge you to a duel!"

"Brother, can you really do it?"

"Don't think I wouldn't dare!"

"No, what I mean is..." The second young master spread his hands, "A duel can still result in bloodshed..."

The young master's fear of blood is something he'll live with for the rest of his life.

Ronan saw this scene from afar and was already used to it.

Along the way, the two brothers resorted to all sorts of shameless behavior in an attempt to win the young lady's favor.

Unfortunately, the young lady has a peculiar way of thinking; she just happens to enjoy this kind of drama where brothers turn against each other because of her.

As the maid led the magician closer, the two brothers immediately softened their tense stance.

The young lady blinked her large, pitiful eyes and said...

"My lord mage, Weiss has been accidentally injured. Could you please help me?"

Ronan nodded, his eyes glancing, seemingly casually, at another man not far away.

He was wearing leather armor, carrying a bow and arrow, with gray skin and long, sharp ears... This was the adventurer's teammate, the gray elf "Hawkeye".

Knowing he couldn't avoid it, Ronan sighed inwardly and simply walked up to the second young master.

He looked serious, yet tried his best to appear indifferent. Then, he cautiously snapped his fingers.

Instantly, the air around the wound distorted slightly.

Numerous tiny green tentacles surged out of the void, licking the blood from the wounds and repairing the necrotic muscle tissue.

In just a few moments, the wound healed completely without leaving a scar.

"What a powerful healing spell!"

The second young master gasped, shocked by the incredible speed of recovery.

The other three all turned to look at Ronan, their impression of the magician's power rising to a new level.

however.

As the wound healed, the green tentacles lost their target and suddenly began to writhe wildly.

Several tiny tentacles danced, then merged into a single, thick tentacle.

It actually tried to burrow into the second young master's ear!

At the critical moment, the distortion of the void suddenly dissipated, and the thick tentacles were annihilated as well.

"Thank you, Master Magician." The second young master expressed his gratitude respectfully.

He didn't see at all the strange tentacles that suddenly appeared and almost crawled into his ear.

The same applies to the others.

Ronan was the only one in the entire audience who witnessed the whole thing.

He quietly clenched his sweaty hands, said nothing, and turned to walk back.

The employers had grown accustomed to the magician's aloofness, and upon seeing him leave, the two brothers resumed their rivalry over his affections.

However, when the second young master inadvertently caught a glimpse of the still-wet bloodstains on his sleeve, a strange sense of fear suddenly welled up in his heart.

He quickly tore off the blood-stained sleeve and threw it at the young master.

They called it severing ties, but it still gave the young master quite a fright.

Not far away, a sharp gaze remained fixed on Ronan.

Hawkeye always casts a blatantly scrutinizing gaze at him wherever he appears.

The blatant feeling of being spied on didn't completely disappear until Ronan returned to the tent.

Finally, I got through it again...

He maintained his persona as a magician by not letting others discover the fact that he was "unable to cast spells".

The original owner's memories mentioned that some adventurer teams exhibited a certain phenomenon.

An adventurer in the team who has no combat power, no contribution, and no value will often die or be injured during the mission due to various uncontrollable "accidents".

After his team returns to the association, there is a very small chance that they will be able to apply for and receive a considerable amount of compensation.

Ronan didn't want to become the reason for the team to request compensation.

He had to devise numerous plans and find the best way to eliminate this gray elf who was full of malice towards him...

At that moment, a message that only he could see flashed before his eyes.

[Your wish has come true!]

[Wish Power Reserves -1]

This is his magic touch.

A divine essence that has existed in his soul since he transmigrated here.

It has two parts: one is the function of consuming wish power to make a wish; the other is a visual panel.

———Miraculous Godhood———

[Owner: Ronan]

[Wish Power Reserves: 6]

[Status: Severely damaged (awaiting repair)]

[Power: to deprive, to bestow, to descend]

When he first saw the wish-granting function, his first thought was:

"I want to be invincible in the world, to prove myself forever, to achieve eternal glory?"

But this idea never came up again after he wished for a roujiamo (Chinese hamburger) and instead received a frozen giant mountain.

Making a wish carries unpredictable risks.

He could only summarize the relevant patterns through cautious and meticulous attempts.

Just now, in front of the second young master, his wish was: "to stabilize the injury to the minimum."

Although the tentacles eventually went out of control, in the end, they did not cause any bad consequences and actually healed the second young master's injuries.

This situation is also recorded in the patterns I've summarized:

The desire itself is not distorted; it's just that the way it's realized is different.

For Ronan, the danger and uncontrollability of making wishes at will are self-evident.

But in order to maintain his persona as a magician, he can only keep exploring patterns and, within a limited framework, try to safely meet the current needs.

Just then, a familiar voice rang out from outside the tent.

"My lord mage, your other teammates have returned. Lord Dunshan has asked me to invite you over."