Bab 877: Rough Spellcasting?

Fein stepped into the cozy inn room, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. As his eyes scanned the space, they landed on Imeng, his mentor, who lay sprawled lazily on the windowsill, soaking up the warm sunrays. Imeng's eyes were closed, his face relaxed, and his body positioned like a carefree old man on vacation.

Fein couldn't help but let out a mischievous chuckle. He raised his hand, his index finger poised with confidence. Drawing upon his newfound mastery of the Wispy Tail Flame, he condensed a small wisp of purple flames, flickering with raw power and destructive potential.

With a sly smirk, Fein approached the unsuspecting Imeng. He pressed his index finger against the mentor's arm, the purple flames dancing on his fingertip. Imeng's eyes shot open, his body jerking in surprise as he felt the intense heat against his skin.