Scribble—!
Under the sheltering branches of the tree, a man exhaled deeply, his pen gliding effortlessly across the fabric beneath him. He seemed at peace, basking in the tranquility of his surroundings. His occupation as a practitioner brought him contentment, a feeling of serene satisfaction washing over him.
"Sir Lux! Are you doing your novel again!? Can you just teach us!?"
Well, a lazy practitioner.
"All right, after I've done this one."
Truly, Lux's existence was a source of pure joy. He relished every moment, experiencing the life he had envisioned without a single hiccup on his part. Being a practitioner added an extra layer of fulfillment to his already blissful life.
Until it became it isn't.
It changed when that day happened.
