The "Magicless" Blood Bag Is The Supreme Mage

ise

led of fresh pine shavi

otaged my application, ensuring I remained trapped in their cellar as Isla's personal mana battery while she paraded through the Academy halls. I had

ht three bronze cauldrons, an enchanted scale balanced with silver weights, and racks of crystal phials. Along the wi

, a sharp tapping sou

ide the rain-streaked pane, clutching th

d the bird a copper bit, and unroll

astered across the front page of

and utterly angelic. Beside her stood Julian Vance, the golden-haired heir of an old pureblood estate,

ype: TRAGEDY OF THE PARKER HEIR: TALENTED PRODIGY

my eyes scanning the te

a masterpiece of

en in out of Christian charity. The piece claimed I had grown violently envious of Isla's innate potion talents, culminating

aring that "society must purge these parasitic

soft, humo

timing of our daily tea, and only she possessed the petty genius req

hearth. The paper ignited with a bright gr

ould break me, she had forgot

nd stepped down onto the street to purchase the re

Ink and Scroll, the a

ago, stared at my face with naked revulsion. When I placed twenty silver Sickle

the air and dropping them into a vat of cleansin

, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the counter. "We

, the whispers trailed

od wretch... look at her, walking around like she owns the alle

ast life, words like that would have cut me to the bone, sending me run

e merely back

ding, however, the malice had crosse

in thick, bubbling Boggart slime-a foul, rancid

ove the lock, someone had used a Stin

urned wood for th

g the ice-cold precision of a predator w

ed the slime dissolve into odorless mist. I unlocked the do

y workbench, pulling o

sted from a beast that had witnessed violent death. A crystal phial of pure Dementor condensation-ice-cold, smell

y fingers tracing the rim of a silver crucible. "Let's see how

he need a R

ack every single thread of directed malice back to