THE ANTI-HEALERS ODESSY

The air outside the Caverns of Silence felt different when Arthur emerged. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting golden-orange light through the boughs of the Wild Woods. Fenrix and Umbra flanked him closely, as though sensing the weight of what he now carried—not just the knowledge of Anti-Magic, but a responsibility that stretched back generations.

He reached into his satchel and retrieved the worn leather-bound grimoire that had been his mother's final gift to him. Until now, it had served only as a storage device for spells he copied and crafted. But today, as if awakened by the presence of the tablet's residual energy, the tome vibrated faintly in his hands.

A whisper touched his thoughts.

"Arthur..."

He froze. It wasn't Fenrix or Umbra. The voice was faint, feminine, familiar. Almost like...

"...Mother?"

The book shimmered. Its lock—a strange silver clasp etched with a runic seal—began to glow. Arthur felt a sudden pulse of mana run up his arm, recognizing his presence. Recognizing his blood.

The seal clicked open.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat as the pages fanned open on their own. They flipped faster and faster until stopping at a thick, rune-stitched sheet toward the middle. The page wasn't written in his hand, nor in any of the scripts he had studied so far. It bore Cecilia's handwriting—flowing, elegant, and meticulous.

"*To my beloved Arthur...*"

His breath caught.

"*If you are reading this, then I am no longer with you. But know this—I loved you with all that I am, and everything I have left in this world, I give to you. This tome is no ordinary grimoire. It is the Whispering Codex, a relic bound to our bloodline.*"

He blinked away tears and continued reading.

"*Hidden within this book are spells known only to our ancestors. My family once guarded secrets that balanced light and darkness. Your affinity is not coincidence. It is heritage. This book will teach you, but only if you listen.*"

Arthur ran his fingers along the margin of the page. The text began to shimmer, lifting from the parchment and floating in the air like mist.

The air around him grew heavy again. Magic was moving—no, breathing. Fenrix growled softly, not in alarm, but awe. Umbra tilted his head, ears twitching.

The words spiraled around Arthur, weaving themselves into a sphere of runes. Within moments, the grimoire transformed—its blank pages turned deep indigo, and new inscriptions began to appear.

The book had awakened.

The first spell it revealed was a warding seal—a protective magic meant to deflect curses and hexes. The second was a spectral tether—allowing brief communion with ancestral spirits bound by blood.

Arthur whispered, "Spectral tether..."

He focused his mana, letting it flow through the incantation. A light shimmered before him, forming into the translucent silhouette of a woman—her features soft, her hair cascading like firelight.

Cecilia.

It wasn't fully her—not a soul, but a memory.

"Arthur," the spirit said, her voice gentle. "This is not truly me, but an imprint. A gift. You are destined for more than survival. Trust the tome. Trust yourself."

He reached out, but the image faded.

Tears streamed down his face.

"I will, Mother. I swear it."

He turned the page.

Dozens of hidden spells now revealed themselves—counter-spells, barrier types unseen in modern schools, and most notably, a technique called "Mana Inversion." It allowed the redirection of hostile magic back at the caster, but at great personal cost.

He copied its matrix into his spellbook carefully. He would need to practice it slowly—deliberately. But the knowledge was his now.

That night, under the stars, Arthur sat between his beasts and practiced channeling the new runes into his core. Each symbol etched itself into his magical senses like fire—but with every burn came clarity.

The whispers of the tome never ceased.

They would guide him.

They would protect him.

They would prepare him for the storm yet to come.

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To be continued...