Casillas felt immensely proud.
Experience truly comes with age.
Yesterday he had lost his composure; today he finally got his revenge.
Vishanti's Holy Sword was no simple Magic.
It ranked among Kamar-Taj's most powerful spells.
Its raw potency was immense, and because it drew on the Power of Vishanti, its learning difficulty was extremely high.
Only a handful in Kamar-Taj could master it.
Besides himself, perhaps only two others knew this Magic.
He refused to believe that Zhao Yu could learn such a difficult spell with ease.
It was impossible.
Casillas glanced at Zhao Yu.
He saw him still deep in thought, as if struggling with some problem.
A rare smile curled Casillas's lips—an expression nearly invisible on his normally stern face.
It showed how pleased he was now.
His gaze toward Zhao Yu softened.
This young man still lacked true genius—he was slightly inferior to the rest.
"Zhao Yu,"
"You are gifted indeed.
But Vishanti's Holy Sword is not an easy Magic.
Many Grand Sorcerers cannot learn it.
So if you struggle, do not worry—just continue your efforts.
Magic need only be mastered, not rushed.
Even the great Supreme Sorcerer cannot claim mastery of every Magic."
Zhao Yu was bewildered.
Why did these Grand Sorcerers always assume he couldn't learn a spell?
It was true he might not succeed, but he had the system!
"Your Vishanti's Holy Sword training effort…"
"Your Vishanti's Holy Sword has reached Level 1."
The system prompt sounded in his mind.
His Vishanti's Holy Sword had indeed leveled up to one—which meant he could now use the Magic.
"Master Casillas,"
"I have actually already mastered this Magic."
Zhao Yu said shyly.
"You don't need to be upset—"
Casillas began, but stopped short at Zhao Yu's words.
He widened his eyes and stammered,
"What did you say?"
"Master Casillas, I have truly mastered this Magic."
Zhao Yu repeated.
"What! That's impossible."
Casillas exclaimed loudly.
"How could you learn Vishanti's Holy Sword?
It demands tremendous spiritual power—only a Grand Sorcerer can possess such strength.
You're but an apprentice!"
"Are you sure you're not lying?"
Casillas eyed Zhao Yu skeptically.
"Impossible, Master Casillas. Please look."
Zhao Yu bowed respectfully, then summoned—
A white-platinum longsword appeared in his hand.
It glowed with divine radiance and exuded a keen, cutting aura.
Glowing runic shards fluttered down like sparks—fragments charged with holy power.
"It really is Vishanti's Holy Sword."
"How can this be?"
Casillas stared in utter disbelief.
That Zhao Yu could wield this Magic meant he already possessed Grand Sorcerer level power.
Yet this young man was a newly arrived apprentice.
Half a month ago he had never known Magic, and now he had the strength of a Grand Sorcerer.
How was that possible?
Casillas's face filled with bitter anguish.
He recalled his own early days, when he had trained nearly ten years to reach this level.
But this kid had done it in half a month!
At last Casillas understood what it felt like for lesser-talented Sorcerers to face someone far stronger.
The vast gap sent shivers through him.
Yet how could this be?
Why could Zhao Yu achieve such power and master so many Magics
while he could not?
His Dao heart shattered!
In Casillas's mind he screamed in rage.
If Zhao Yu weren't standing before him, he might have struck him.
Casillas looked at Zhao Yu with a stiff expression.
"All right, Zhao Yu, you should continue your practice."
"Yes, Grand Sorcerer."
Zhao Yu answered respectfully and left the room.
Casillas listened to the respectful "Grand Sorcerer" fade away—the words now sounded jarringly false.
He felt mocked.
An apprentice with such power after less than half a month, while he had spent ten years on the same achievements—was there any greater irony?
Casillas's temperament was extreme.
His wife and son had died in an accident, leaving him with nothing when he came to Kamar-Taj.
Magic had rekindled his hope, but now that hope lay shattered.
In contrast to Zhao Yu, all his efforts felt utterly meaningless.
"No, I must pursue even greater power.
I cannot give up—I will resurrect them."
Casillas's face twisted with determination.
A vague idea formed in his mind: the library held the answers he craved.
Only the forbidden tomes of the Supreme Sorcerer could grant him the might he sought.
But the Supreme Sorcerer, knowing Casillas's nature, had never let him touch those volumes.
Now, he no longer cared about that prohibition.
A cold aura surrounded him as he strode from his room, heading straight for the library.
He burst in, ignoring the librarian's protests.
"Master Casillas, the Supreme Sorcerer's orders forbid you access to these books," the librarian said solemnly.
Because of the Supreme Sorcerer's authority, the librarian—only a senior Sorcerer—enforced his commands.
He did not notice that Casillas now radiated a dangerous energy and seethed with emotion.
"In that case, you may die!"
Casillas roared.
A golden chain appeared in his hand, and the librarian was flung up to hang from the rafters.
Unopposed, Casillas snapped the locks on the forbidden shelves and opened the Supreme Sorcerer's tomes.
"I see now!"
"What immense power!"
"I have been defying such greatness!"
"Ancient One! You liar!"
Recognizing the traces of dark spatial power, Casillas tore several pages from the manuscript and, face darkened, walked away.
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