He who Bends Time-Chapter 65 - be ashamed

"Twin casting? No—it’s called instant casting. I didn’t cast two spells at the same time; I cast one right after the other. It’s a hard technique to master, sure, but in high-pressure moments, I tend to surprise even myself," Henry said, casually brushing dust from his coat.

"Let me make something else clear too," he added, now speaking with the calm tone of a seasoned lecturer. "Before reaching the Forging Stage, a curse magician’s power is relatively average. Honestly, someone from your field—body modification—could easily overpower an untrained curse user. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

"But once we reach the Forging Stage, that’s when curse magicians truly blossom. At that level, we begin crafting our own spells. That’s when things get annoying for opponents. From that point on, only top-tier mages in other field can hope to resist a well-crafted curse."

He spoke with the air of someone reciting knowledge from memory—like a professor sharing hard-earned wisdom.

The kid tilted its head, confused. "Why are you telling me all this?"

That question silenced Henry for a moment. He scratched his head awkwardly before answering with a faint smile.

"Habit, I guess. I’m used to explaining everything in detail. Comes from having friends constantly bombarding me with questions back at the academy."

He took a step forward now, his tone shifting—sharper, more serious.

"Anyway, the spell I cast on you only causes fatigue. It won’t hurt you—yet. But believe me, I do have far more painful curses in my arsenal. So, answer my questions... and I might consider letting you live.

"If not..." he paused, his eyes narrowing, "then I can only pray for wherever your soul ends up."

Crick!

A sudden sound snapped through the air behind him. Henry’s instincts flared.

Without hesitation, he ducked and leapt to the side—just in time to avoid a long, metallic appendage whipping toward him. It twisted unnaturally, like a metallic worm with a mind of its own, lashing at the space he had just occupied.

"Ugh... this just keeps getting worse," Henry muttered as he caught sight of the figure wielding the metallic tendrils.

"You bastard! Are you the one who dropped me into my own piss?!" roared the fearsome-faced man, his fury as intense as the stench radiating from him.

"You smell terrible," the childlike figure remarked, pinching his nose in disgust.

"No shit I do!" the man snapped. "I fell in my own piss thanks to this piece of trash! Just wait—I’m gonna piss on your corpse when I’m done with you!"

At his command, the metallic limbs surrounding him writhed to life once more, slithering across the ground like living worms before lunging toward Henry.

’These metallic objects... they move with intent, like living creatures,’ Henry thought, narrowly evading the strike with a swift leap to the side. ’That confirms it—he’s a weapon symbiote magician.’

Landing safely, Henry assessed the situation with a grim expression.

"A body modifier and a weapon symbiote. Even if their magic types are considered mid-tier, this combo is dangerous..." He took another step back, caution rising in his chest. "Just what kind of mess have I gotten myself into?"

"Let’s take him down together," said the body modifier, smirking. "he’s skilled enough to fight us alone."

"Fine by me," growled the symbiote user, glaring at Henry. "Just leave his corpse intact—I still need to piss on it."

"Two magicians ganging up on a lone man? That’s a coward’s way of fighting," Henry said coolly, raising his voice. "Aren’t you two even a little ashamed of yourselves?"

"Ashamed?" scoffed the fearsome man. "We’ve done far worse than this. This is nothing."

The body modifier took a step back, gathering momentum before launching himself at Henry, while the weapon symbiote magician’s metallic tendrils once again lashed out, streaking through the air with lethal speed.

Henry responded swiftly, extending both of his hands toward his two enemies. Dark mist curled from his palms, and with a sharp motion, he cast his first spell—directed at the body modifier.

Immediately after, he cast a second.

{Negative Sensation}

The name of the curse echoed through the air, and black mist surged toward both opponents.

At the same time, Henry pushed off the ground with a sharp burst of movement. Though the metallic tendrils were already dangerously close, he leapt—higher and faster than a normal human could. Just before they struck him, he soared upward into the sky, the weapons slicing through empty air beneath him.

Below, both spells struck their targets.

A moment later, chaos erupted.

The fearsome man’s metallic appendages suddenly shifted direction—veering wildly without control. At the same time, the body modifier, now cursed, charged straight ahead—but not at Henry.

At his ally.

"What the—?!" both of them shouted in confusion, but it was too late.

The metal tendrils, meant for Henry, pierced the body modifier’s torso. And with the full speed of his own forward momentum, he was driven like a living spear into the fearsome man.

Boom!

The collision was brutal. The two men crashed into a nearby tree with such force that the trunk split and toppled over, dragging leaves and branches down with it.

Moments later, Henry landed gracefully on both feet.

Crack!

A sharp sound echoed beneath him. Looking down, he saw a shattered crystal beneath his boot. He reached down and removed the broken shard.

"One of the vessel crystals with jump spell I took from Nick’s storage," he muttered. "Shame I had to use it so soon... but there really wasn’t any other choice."

He looked toward the two collapsed enemies.

"That didn’t go exactly how I planned, though. My intention wasn’t to make them crash into each other. But... ’Negative Sensation’ isn’t a spell I can fully control."

He dusted off his hand, voice calm.

"The curse’s influence is completely unpredictable. Instead of making the target feel or act how I want, it compels them into irrational, random behavior—often the opposite of their intent. I only set the trigger... what happens next is chaos."

"The fact that they ended up hitting each other... well, that can only be called their own misfortune," Henry muttered as he approached the spot where the two enemies had collided with the tree.

The tree itself had been massive, and its fall had stirred up quite a mess—branches scattered, leaves fluttering everywhere. Buried beneath the trunk, the two men who had attacked him were nowhere to be seen—save for a single hand sticking out from under the weight of the collapsed tree.

"There’s no way they survived that," Henry whispered, narrowing his eyes at the lifeless hand.

Just then, he heard a commotion behind him.

Turning his head, he saw movement from the direction of the carriage. It seemed the noise from the intense battle—and the thunderous fall of the tree—had drawn the attention of those inside. Faces, cautious and curious, began to peek out through the fabric flaps.

Henry sighed.

"I only came here to pry out a bit of information... but this is turning into a whole situation."

Despite his reservations, he walked toward the carriage anyway.

As he approached, the first one to greet him was the little girl he had spoken to earlier. Seeing him arrive alone, she looked up at him with hesitant eyes.

"W-Where... where did the big-hand bad guy go?" she asked softly.

Henry smiled faintly.

"He went to a place more suited to someone like him," he replied gently. Then, with a lighter tone, he added, "But hey—look at you. You’re speaking now."

Relief washed over him. At last, he could have a proper conversation without having to constantly manage someone’s emotional state. Not that he hated doing that—it just wasn’t exactly his area of expertise.

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