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A Bored Lich

"Screw magic, I want to learn how to do cool flips and stuff." Magic is awesome, until you've studied it for centuries. Doevm reincarnates into a human to experience the path of a fighter to its fullest and swears not to rely on magic. There is only one problem, a goddess stands in his way. She pits him against both the hero and the villain for all of eternity. How will he escape this, with magic or his fists? Maybe both? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Sorry about the spacing. Webnovel doesn't let me use enter) Winner of contest #110. I upload three chapters a week. Each chapter has word count around 1000+.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Link to my discord: https://discord.gg/tHaceja ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------While I am an experienced writer, I do make mistakes. Don't be afraid to say you don't understand something or point out an error in grammar. I read all comments. There are naturally some things I won't say. For example, if some says there's an inconsistency and I don't address it, it's probably there for a reason.

Random_writer · ファンタジー
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467 Chs

Three Concepts of Magic

Lance walked past the thick, metallic sealed cabinets which were lined up against the right wall, to the large wooden desk at the front, just a few feet from the billboard. The class snapped to attention.

"I apologize for making the class wait," Lance began as he opened one of the cabinets via his bracelet. Notes flew out of the cabinet and attached themselves to the board in an orderly fashion. The bracelet flew back onto Lance's arm and the container clicked, locking itself. "As many of you may have noticed, we have a new recruit, Doevm, sorry I meant Cerlius. I didn't have time to fetch him a robe and fill him in like I have done with each of you because of external matters. Please excuse his appearance."

While the students' many over the shoulder glances at Cerlius now carried a hint of understanding, the previous scorn was still there. No explanation could distill the first impression: a man covered in filth, sweat, and dried blood, an outcast.