The Most Arbitrary Wizard

Chapter 74: Chapter 55: Witch

Sean followed the two women to the reception room, where he soon met the Alchemy Master that even Elvire had called incredible.

Generally, those who earned the title of "Master" were advanced in age. The stereotype held that a wealth of life experience and decades of accumulated professional knowledge were the most important components of the title—similar to "Professor."

But the Witch looked very young.

While not a fresh-faced, eighteen-year-old college kid like Sean, he at least seemed more vibrant than Sopea. He was probably younger than Kate, thirty at the most.

In the hallway, Elise had just told him that today’s meeting was merely for the Witch to understand the basic condition and traits of his body. That way, he could tailor a solution and come up with the most effective alchemy formula. The formal alchemy session was scheduled for tomorrow.

So this meeting wasn’t exactly formal—it was more of a preliminary introduction, a chance to say hello.

However, the Witch’s attire was exceptionally "formal." His hair was neatly combed and, like the leather shoes on his feet, was so black it shone, reflecting the overhead lights. He wore a coffee-colored tailcoat, with an exquisite rose insignia pinned to his chest. For a moment, Sean wondered if Elise had brought them to the wrong place, like a ballroom.

But she hadn’t.

And the Witch was, indeed, a gentleman.

Elise noticed Sean’s subtle expression and leaned in to whisper with a laugh, "Who ever said a Witch can’t be a man?"

Sean was speechless.

’Does that mean I can change my online handle to "Innocent Female College Student"?’

"Thank you for waiting, Mr. Witch." Elvire greeted the man with a smile.

Seeing the three of them arrive, the Witch also stood up. A refined, polite smile appeared on his face as he placed his left hand over his chest and bowed slightly in return. "The pleasure is all mine. Miss Flame Crow and Miss Elise, you are as beautiful as ever."

"And this must be Mr. Sean?"

He looked at Sean and said with a smile, "Hello, I am Lante Gwenster. You can call me Witch. It is our first meeting, and I am in your care, Mr. Sean."

Sean quickly replied, "You’re too kind, Mr. Witch."

It was the first time he had ever met a Tier Five Wizard who was so humble and courteous. And Sean was only a Tier Two. Lante’s style was the polar opposite of Sopea’s cold demeanor—he was "elegance" personified, and it almost left Sean at a loss for how to act.

Elise watched Sean’s reaction and chuckled to herself.

She had felt the same way when she first met the Witch, taken aback by his humble and elegant bearing. Back then, she had only been a Tier Three, while he was already a Tier Five. Yet, he had treated her as if their ranks were reversed. For a while, Elise had even suspected he was being passive-aggressive, but she stopped finding it strange after she learned his full name.

Because the surname Gwenster belonged to the oldest Knight Family from the Era of Polymath.

"We’ll be relying on you, Mr. Witch." Maintaining her usual efficiency, Elvire cut straight to the point after the brief pleasantries. She handed Lante a brown paper bag containing Sean’s physical examination reports from the last few days.

Lante took out the reports and read them carefully. Seeing that all the data points indicated perfect health, he couldn’t help but ask, "Mr. Sean, are you certain these reports begin from the day after you were injured?"

Sean had been asleep for three straight days, so he wasn’t clear on the details. Elvire answered for him. "Yes. I even had the equipment checked." freēwebnovel.com

When the data first came in, her initial reaction had been to question if the equipment was faulty. After all, the actual time between Sean’s injury at Florist Hospital and his first examination wasn’t even a full day—eight hours at most. How could a Tier Two possibly recover from such severe injuries—taking a direct hit from a Tier Five Puppet—on his own in that short a time?

Elvire had assumed the data was erroneous.

However, the medical staff in charge of equipment maintenance told her that the instruments were working perfectly.

"That is very strange," Lante said, frowning slightly.

Both Elvire and Elise looked at Sean, their smiles holding a hidden meaning.

Sean just stared out the window.

’Don’t ask me. I don’t know a thing.’

"Mr. Sean," Lante began after a long moment of contemplation, "do you have a sense of your body’s external durability?"

Sean didn’t quite understand. "What do you mean, ’external durability’?"

Lante answered, "For example, have you ever been cut by a knife?"

"Yes."

Sean thought of the milk carton Chris had turned into a block of iron. frёewebnoѵēl.com

His finger had been cut by the sharp edge, and it had bled. But at the time, his mind was entirely focused on the so-called "truth." He had gone to the hospital, then to the Black Fruit Rainforest, and had completely put the matter out of his mind.

Now that Lante mentioned it, he realized he had never treated the wound. He hadn’t even put a band-aid on it, let alone noticed when it had healed.

"Mr. Sean, would you mind if I conducted a small experiment?" Lante asked.

Sean asked, "An experiment?"

Lante picked up a fruit knife from the table.

Sean was speechless.

’I get it. He wants to cut me.’

"Go ahead," Sean said, extending a finger toward Lante.

Lante made a light slice.

The pad of Sean’s finger was instantly cut, and crimson blood began to well up.

The four of them had a tacit understanding and remained silent, simply staring intently at Sean’s finger.

The hands on the wall clock ticked away.

After about half an hour, something miraculous happened.

Without any medical intervention, Sean’s cut finger began to heal on its own, bit by bit. The healing process was incredibly fast; in less than ten seconds, his finger was completely restored. Elise brought a tissue and wiped away the blood, revealing a fingertip without a single mark, as if it had never been injured at all.

"Have you been practicing a Self-Healing Spell?" Elvire couldn’t help but ask.

But the moment the words left her mouth, she felt naive. Sean was only a Tier Two; even if he had practiced a Self-Healing Spell, it couldn’t possibly have an effect that was visible to the naked eye.

"And that is precisely the issue," said Lante.

It wasn’t as if Wizards with self-healing bodies didn’t exist—he knew one, in fact. But that person was a Tier Five known by the title "Living Dead." And from what Lante had observed, even the Living Dead’s healing wasn’t as fast as Sean’s. He wasn’t referring to the total time for a full recovery, but to the wound-closing process itself.

When the Living Dead’s body was injured, it would begin to recover immediately, but the process was relatively slow. A cut on the finger like this, without the use of a Magic Spell, would take him about thirty seconds to heal. Sean, however, had taken less than ten.

There could be other factors, of course, such as the type of blade. After all, the Living Dead’s physical durability had reached a level beyond mortal comprehension; an ordinary knife couldn’t even scratch him. In other words, any injury the Living Dead sustained was by definition a major one.

But that just made Sean’s body all the more incredible.

A body’s external durability and its healing ability were supposed to be directly proportional. The stronger the healing, the higher the durability. But Sean seemed to be the complete opposite. He clearly possessed an extremely powerful healing ability, yet he could still be wounded by a simple fruit knife. Lante had prepared Magic Potions for countless Wizards, but he had never encountered a situation like this. He had never even *heard* of one.

For a moment, he wasn’t even sure how to assess it.

To say Sean’s body was strong—he could be cut by a fruit knife.

To say it wasn’t strong—he could recover from mortal wounds in a matter of hours.

So was he strong or not?

...