Wands, Staves, and the Phoenix Feather (Monthly Votes!)

“Hiss…” The dwarf used his sharp fruit knife to lightly cut a small slit on his index finger.

“It’ll hurt a bit—just bear with it,” he said casually. After all, she was just a young girl, so being afraid of pain was normal.

“Don’t worry.” Yalian was, after all, a Hero—her endurance and resilience were strong, so she wasn’t afraid of such a tiny bit of pain.

Blood quickly gathered into a thin stream and began to drip down slowly, while she used the silver-capped tip of the wand to touch the flowing trace of blood.

“It still feels a little uncomfortable…” Yalian muttered softly, frowning. These red fluids made her feel uneasy…

Whether it was the rivers of blood from the holy war three years ago, or the assassination incident involving Leonardo just days ago—this red substance, sticky and bloody…

It made her feel nauseous instinctively, though not too strongly—just faintly lingering.

In an instant, the blood that touched the silver tip reacted… releasing wisps of smoke…

At the base of the wand, around the silver seal, the wooden guard began to emit smoke.

It was as if it had ignited. The flat wooden surface began to burn, like a stick catching fire, making for a rather frightening sight.

“Grab the flame,” the dwarf ordered in a commanding tone.

“But…” Yalian asked hesitantly.

This was fire! It looked terrifying—how could she possibly grab it?!

“Do not question it. Nothing is as it appears on the surface. Do not doubt the greatness of Ogu.”

Like a devout believer, he lowered his head, and at that moment, he truly became a mysterious mage devoted to the arcane arts.

After hearing this, Yalian could only tremblingly extend her small hand toward the flame.

Her hand, delicate like a tender sprout, reached toward the burning section.

It stopped mid-air, hesitating constantly.

Because just moments ago, a strange thought had appeared—she imagined her hand touching the flame and instantly being burned, flesh torn apart. Once that image formed, it refused to disappear…

She became afraid.

This body was extremely sensitive to pain. She feared she wouldn’t be able to endure it… and…

She could even feel the scorching heat waves radiating outward.

She hesitated.

“Trust me. Grab it.”

Yalian still didn’t dare move. Her hand hovered in the air, as if she might lose it the moment she touched the flame. She was deeply uneasy… afraid it would turn out exactly as she imagined…

“Relax. Let go of your fear. Calm down,” he urged, slightly anxious, yet still patient, afraid she might retreat.

“The phoenix feather will give you the answer. It recognizes its master, but to show your sincerity, you must offer this ritual. Do not fear it—it will become your friend,” he guided softly.

In truth, in the shopkeeper’s eyes, there was no flame at all—only the wand faintly smoking. Even that smoke was as light as steam, nothing like the harsh smoke of burning wood.

To ordinary people, Yalian would look like a slightly deranged girl, groaning for no reason, struggling against a wand as if it were poisonous—like touching it would mean instant death. If the dwarf hadn’t experienced the phoenix feather’s selection himself, he might have thought the same. But he knew exactly what she was seeing—he too had once been afraid, unable to open that door to a new world.

This was completely different from anything written in books. No book had ever recorded arcane arts. For someone like Yalian, who relied heavily on books, overturning her entire understanding of the world was nearly impossible.

“I can tell—you love books. You want to expand your understanding of the world through them. But this… is your chance. A chance to open the door to a new world,” he comforted her.

“I compare normal human understanding of the world to a small hole. Some people spend their entire lives only widening it a little. They use their lives to gradually expand it, and in their later years, they write down what they’ve seen, so others can continue digging.”

He paused, glanced at Yalian, and continued.

“They use their lives to open that hole. That’s how humanity evolved—clothing, etiquette, aesthetics, even religion—all came after expanding that opening,” he said with a smile.

“But…” he added mysteriously.

“But?…” Yalian asked, puzzled.

“But when humans encounter something vast—something beyond what they can comprehend—they reject it and deny its existence,” he said with a faint smile, glancing at her.

His meaning was clear—the one unwilling to explore was Yalian herself.

“Mm…” Yalian let out an embarrassed sound.

Her face flushed red.

How embarrassing! She had made a fool of herself in front of him. What was she even afraid of? At worst, it was just a burn—she could rest and recover.

That’s what she thought. After all, she was a Hero! She had to lead from the front!

She began to drive away the fear in her heart.

She silently recited a holy hymn in her mind.

Don’t be afraid! Don’t be afraid! Just grab it and it’ll be fine! She hypnotized herself over and over again. She didn’t want to lose this only chance!

With determination, she reached out and grabbed the wand.

She had already prepared herself for the scorching heat—even closing her eyes.

“Huh?!” she exclaimed in surprise.

There was no burning pain, no terrifying sensation. The wand felt like gentle spring water—cool and soothing, like a breeze brushing against her skin.

The flame, the moment she touched it, shattered into countless tiny particles and drifted away—it had only been an illusion.

The wand stopped smoking, and instead, it began to tremble slightly. It started shedding excess wood from its body, gradually revealing patterns that spread across its surface.

It looked like the work of a master craftsman, intricately carved—but no one knew that the craftsman was not human. It was the wand itself…

“It seems… it has accepted you,” the dwarf said quietly.

Everything was normal, just like his own experience—the flame had not burned her, and it disappeared. But one thing troubled him.

The patterns on the wand… had changed.

This should not have happened. Even among dwarves—even for the High Priest—nothing like this had ever occurred during the phoenix feather’s selection.

Generally speaking, a wand is a type of magical tool that enhances spells.

A staff, however, is large and thick—like a spear—used for combat. It is usually made with rare materials, such as precious metals. It is the primary weapon of battle mages, with the front portion designed for combat. It can take the form of any weapon—blade, spear, or otherwise—but as long as it has a staff body, it enhances magical power. Thus, staffs are the most common equipment for battle mages and forbidden spellcasters.

In battle, most mages use powerful staffs rather than small wands. Wands are different—they are mainly used to stabilize magic. This allows mages to cast spells more safely, since magic always carries some risk. Even if the chance is small, a mistake could lead to death.

That is the advantage of a wand—it ensures safety and stability.

“Yalian… what else…” he murmured, looking at the newly formed patterns and characters burned into the wand…

They were exquisite and precise, as if carved in a single stroke.

“Yalian?” the dwarf asked.

“Yes—yes!” Yalian replied nervously.

Anyone would be frightened seeing their wand reshape itself like this.

“Congratulations. It’s yours now,” he said with a smile, lightly tapping the black wand box.

“Tap tap tap…” The box produced a pleasant sound.

“So… how do I use arcane arts?” Yalian asked eagerly, holding the wand like a treasure, unwilling to let it leave her hands.

Indeed, this wand was her key to self-protection… it would change the fate imposed upon her.

“Now listen carefully. Hold the wand tightly, face that wall, and chant.”

“But… didn’t we just organize that wall?” she asked, confused why she had to undo it.

But she didn’t know the reason—so she simply obeyed. She wanted to grow stronger.

Strong enough to protect herself.

“There is no chant… focus your mind. Imagine it as your third hand…”

Yalian tried to control it…

The box… was lifted as if by an invisible hand…