Chapter Text
Lifesteal boasted the most bustling magical market across the entire wizarding continent. Beneath colorful silks that stretched like a canopy, witches and wizards zipped about on their staffs, pausing briefly or lingering leisurely in the open plaza. Any wizard who pulled shopping lists from enchanted satchels knew the stalls nearest the square were always the finest. Dragon's breath was sold bottled; adventurers peddled eggs of ancient sniffers beside the steps; and if one carried enough gold, collectors would unlock chests to display whole boxes of glowing enchanted golden apples.
Naturally, the most eye-catching sight lately was the mysterious parrot statue at the fountain’s center. No one noticed when the bronze parrot had perched atop it, as if it had simply flown there one night. Alongside it stood a sign: wizards must use their strongest magic on the statue to awaken the parrot. Yet just like its untraceable origin, the statue was impossibly tough. It was said that only a handful of wizards had struck it with enough power to bring it to life—and in return, received a mysterious blessing.
Through the hazy glow of sunlight scattered by water mist, Branzy stared intently at the bronze parrot. He seemed to have an unusual sense of wizarding fashion: where most wore wide-brimmed wizard hats, he had a pair of brass goggles. He also lacked the ever-present wand that defined every wizard. From appearance alone, few would guess he was the newly arrived great wizard of Lifesteal.
“Branzy!”
4C landed abruptly behind him, splashing water that dampened the toes of Branzy’s boots. 4C removed his signature sky-blue wizard hat, held it to his chest, and brushed off dust from the flight.
“You’ve been staring for five minutes. Don’t you want to try?”
“No, no, no, no… I’m just passing through… have I really been watching that long?” Branzy instinctively hugged his supplies to his chest. That annoying blue devil—just because he was good at water magic, did he have to splash it everywhere? Branzy lifted a foot and shook water from his leather boots.
“Go on, it doesn’t matter if you fail.” 4C gave him an encouraging push. Branzy’s feet rooted to the ground, his arms tight around his scrolls, forcing a smile at thin air.
Just as Branzy debated what excuse to use to avoid showing off his magic, a red glove landed on his shoulder and pulled him sideways.
“That’s low, 4C. Branzy doesn’t even have a wand. He isn’t ready to cast magic yet.”
Clown’s other hand gripped his flamboyant staff—a scythe. He rested its long shaft casually over his shoulder, the blade curving behind him. Magic flowed through patterns carved into the metal, and the tip glinted red in the sun.It cast doubt on people that maybe the scythe wasn't merely decorative.
Branzy awkwardly placed a hand over Clown’s, which still clamped his shoulder. He was about to thank Clown for saving him from 4C’s harmless teasing, when he looked up and found Clown’s eerie clown mask nearly touching his forehead.
“But you can tell me first when your new wand is finished, right, Branzy?”
“You’re right… absolutely!”
Branzy’s voice rose as he answered without thinking. No one in Lifesteal wanted to contradict the deadliest wizard around.
“Good, Branzy.”
Clown finally let go. His gaze, hidden behind the mask, still lingered suspiciously on Branzy. He twirled his scythe and cast a spell backward. A red flash sliced past the parrot, explosive magic sending fountain water flying. Amid the mist, the bronze parrot let out a low cry. It briefly surveyed the three of them in the plaza, then fixed its gaze on the wizard in the red cloak. Clownpierce had passed the parrot’s test a month prior, and the bird had no interest in his pointless encore. After preening its feathers briefly in the spray, the parrot lifted its hard beak eastward and turned back into a proud, motionless statue.
“Oops.” Clown held up his cloak to shield himself from falling droplets, sounding entirely innocent.
“I can barely stand your showing off.”
Purple block particles exploded in front of Clown. Ash teleported directly before him, clearly caught in his childish display. He shook his hand, and the obsidian set in his glove recharged. Branzy stared discreetly at Ash’s unusual “wand”—until particles and water splashed onto him, drawing Ash’s attention with his quiet complaint.
“Clown, this is the new great wizard?” Ash stepped close, examining Branzy like a curiosity, and held out a hand. Obsidian glinted with ominous purple glitch particles.
“Mind showing me what you can do?”
“Wait, I should go!” Branzy had definitely picked the wrong time to visit the market. Without hesitation, he triggered a trip-wire hook in his pocket. With a whoosh, he vanished before Clown and Ash’s eyes.
Ash thought for a moment, then nodded solemnly, confirming the rumors about Branzy.
“He didn’t even use a wand. Impressive.”
Branzy stumbled into his home. The scrolls in his arms flew out, unrolling across the floor like a long white carpet. Behind him was his personal invention: a simple ender pearl stasis chamber, activated by the trip-wire hook in his pocket. He hurriedly dumped his supplies on the table and chased after the runaway scrolls, hopping over scattered magical gadgets and bottles of redstone dust. At last, he retrieved his scroll—now little more than a bare spindle—from a pile of gears.
Besides the stasis device, Branzy’s strange inventions were countless. He endlessly experimented with combinations of magic items and redstone. Everything in this cluttered room served to hide one truth:
He had no magic at all.
In fact, he had hidden it so well that he was known as the great Wizard Branzy back in Amethyst City. When his mechanical inspiration ran dry, he snapped his decorative staff, claimed he’d lost his beloved wand, and left the city in grief, moving to Lifesteal for a fresh start. But his fame had spread further than he imagined. Upon arrival, he’d been flooded with attention: neighbors like 4C, who occasionally snuck things from his house and left only a sign as notice; Clownpierce, who traveled from the other side of town just to knock on his door and say “You look charming”; and JumperWho, who gifted him a talking magical chicken, claiming it would help heal his heart after losing his wand.
“Branzy, you’re doomed.”
The magical chicken stepped on his newly dropped supplies, unapologetically waiting to be shooed away.
“Look at you, teleporting back all messy again. How much longer do you think you can hide this from the other wizards?”
“I know, I know… you’re lucky you’re not edible,” Branzy mumbled as he rolled up his scroll.
“What did Jumper say? Wave your wand and I’ll disappear—oh wait, you don’t have a wand!”
Branzy ignored the chicken and buried himself in the redstone circuits he’d been working on for ages. He flipped a lever. A redstone timer flickered, releasing built-up energy that pierced a practice target. He circled behind it, stared through the hole at the outside world, then locked his door. Following the trail left by the redstone blast, he trekked through the forest on mats of grass.
“I didn’t mean to be a fraud,” he muttered, dew soaking his cuffs, pushing through ferns. His only audience were mushrooms and fungi.
“I told them redstone had potential, but everyone laughed, called it a silly prank taken too far. I had no choice but to pretend it was all my magic. And one day, they started calling me a great wizard.”
Branzy finally found where his redstone beam had ended. Unfortunately, it had left a small dent in 4C’s wall. He tore off a note, stuck it obediently on the surface, returning 4C’s own mischief in kind.
He stepped back, hands in his pockets, glancing at the trail of destruction. It gave him a new idea.
“Hey, Branzy. Glad to see you finally decided to make a new wand.”
Jaron pulled out a chair and invited Branzy into his workshop. He raised an eyebrow as if he’d been expecting this, then opened a mahogany box. Inside lay the largest natural amethyst Branzy had ever seen.
Gemstones were the heart of any wand. As Lifesteal’s finest gem craftsman, Jaron had taken orders from countless wizards. He’d been waiting for the realm’s most talked-about arrival to request a custom piece, eager for exclusive news. Then, on the day Branzy revealed it, he could calmly polish his gold-engraved hammer, glance at everyone with a satisfied smirk, and say:
“Really, none of you guessed it? He asked for an octagonal amethyst. What else but a high-power charging wand?”
Jaron’s ambition always ran wild. He picked up a cookie jar; Branzy clearly saw Jaron’s own logo and face printed on it.
“Cookie?”
“Oh… thanks, you’re so kind.” Branzy caught one with a handkerchief, wrapped it, and tucked it into his shirt. He awkwardly helped Jaron close the box.
“Actually, I’m building the wand myself. I need you to process a few components.”
To some extent, a wand represented a wizard’s identity, so it wasn’t unusual for someone to assemble their own. But as Branzy explained his vision, Jaron’s mouth fell open, his urge to interrupt growing stronger.
“It… technically works, but redstone?” Jaron looked hesitant.
“Compared to other ores, its energy is too weak to serve as a proper casting medium. Besides, redstone releases energy immediately once charged—it’s terrible for containment. As a great wizard, you must understand that… are you sure you want me to craft this, Branzy?”
“I’m sure.”
At the mention of redstone, Branzy’s voice hardened with suppressed excitement. He cleared a space on Jaron’s gem-dusted workbench and spread the blueprints he’d clutched all the way.
“Please embed redstone into the smooth stone according to this design.”
When Branzy returned home, a painting hung over the hole he’d blasted in the wall—a poor attempt to cover it up. That small accident had been the result of his latest project: a delayed signal system based on redstone torches. It worked perfectly, except the mechanism was enormous, taking up nearly half his cluttered room. But with repeaters, his unassuming redstone signal regulator, he could now shrink the entire device to the size of an apple core—small enough to fit inside a wand.
As he attached the final decorative metal piece to the tip, Branzy held up his brass wand toward the sunlight streaming through the window. He was slightly dazzled by its metallic shine. When he’d received his first wand on his twelfth birthday, he’d only wanted to be an ordinary wizard, maybe accomplished in some way. But as he stared through the hollow core at his own reflection, twenty years older, the person he saw was not the honest magician he’d once imagined.
Branzy had built the new prop to resemble his old one. He gripped it with one hand, twisted the shaft, and triggered a hidden mechanism. Decorative gears clicked satisfyingly. Redstone circuits inside flickered, mimicking magical runes. Branzy carefully ran a finger along the seamless joints, somewhat comforted by the delicate machinery.
Making a wand was only the first step. In Branzy’s plan, he had to accomplish one convincing feat with this fake before it broke—something that would make people care less about his actual magical ability.
And what better proof than passing the parrot statue’s challenge? Then no one would doubt or wonder what kind of magic the great Wizard Branzy possessed.
Branzy stood before the fountain. He raised his wand and held his breath. He wasn’t sure if his charge would be enough to wake the parrot. Win or lose, the worst case was everyone watching him fail, no longer seeing him as powerful as rumors claimed. He would live out his wizarding days in obscurity, hoping to be reborn in a world without magic—one where redstone alone could make someone great.
Lost in thought, he pressed the button.
A beam shot from the tip, striking the parrot statue dead-on. The explosion kicked up a cloud of smoke, covering the entire fountain. Branzy waved away scattered redstone dust. His wand burned so hot he could barely hold it. He assumed the redstone circuits inside were completely destroyed—but amid the chaos from his one-time staff, he saw the parrot lift its tail.
Branzy had succeeded.
Coughing in the smoke, the parrot clearly disliked being woken so roughly. Its eyes locked onto Branzy. It plucked a stiff feather from its tail, which transformed into a scroll in its beak. The vibrant bird flapped down to the railing in front of him, gesturing for him to take it.
Branzy squinted. He saw the wizarding association’s wax seal.
This was no blessing scroll—it was official documents. Branzy had only just mastered the art of faking magic; he wanted nothing to do with official business.
“Thank you… but I think… you should give this to someone who needs it more.” Branzy hugged his wand, trying to act like a noble wizard.
The parrot had never been refused before. Its eyes held a disdain far too intelligent for a bird. Its beak couldn’t close properly, so it squawked something that sounded suspiciously like muttering. It hopped closer, attempting to push the scroll into his hand.
“No, no, little one, I insist—”
Branzy pushed the parrot away again. He was about to pat its head when the bird suddenly spread huge green wings and flapped violently, claws digging into his collar. Branzy bent forward under its weight, forced to look it in the eye. He lost his patience, grabbed the parrot, and threw it. In response, the bird flapped even more aggressively, diving straight for his head.
“Good grief, I take back everything I said. You annoying bird… let go of me!”
It was rare enough for someone to pass the parrot’s test, let alone the sight of Branzy swinging his wand to chase the bird away. It quickly drew a crowd. Branzy's fluffy white hair, neatly combed that morning, was now a messy tangle. The parrot didn’t fare much either, barely dodging Branzy’s brass wand, its colorful feathers flying everywhere.
A great wizard and a bird were locked in an even, furious fight—so absorbed that neither noticed the crowd parting.
A shadow loomed over them. Branzy looked up. Glistening magical wings carried someone gently downward. An oppressive aura fell over him. Branzy immediately released the parrot’s claw.
Parrotx2, the Association’s enforcer, folded his wings. The wind from his landing blew toward Branzy and the bronze parrot. He held out an arm, and the parrot landed humbly, bowing its head.
Like two teenagers caught fighting in the street, Branzy and the parrot fell silent. Especially when Branzy spotted the golden emblem on Parrot’s cloak—he guiltily hid his fake wand behind his back.
Parrot was equally confused. His gaze shifted between parrot and wizard a few times. He flicked his olivine-feathered quill, and a list unfolded in midair.
“Your name… BranzyCraft? Why did you reject the invitation after passing the Wizard Tournament selection test?”
“Wizard Tournament? Lifesteal’s deadliest magic competition?” Branzy gaped, pointing at himself.
“You didn’t know? I wrote it right here.” Parrot turned the sign around. The back clearly stated the bronze parrot was the entrance test for the Wizard Tournament. Those who passed received an official invitation.
“I have to… join… the Wizard Tournament?”
Branzy practically froze. With Parrot’s backing, the parrot statue let out an impatient croak and dropped the invitation straight into his hand. It then perched on the railing and preened the feathers Branzy had messed up.
“Legally, yes. Otherwise, you’ll face three to five years of imprisonment for breach of contract. But since you passed the statue’s test, you shouldn’t worry. Not everyone has the power to earn my parrot’s approval.”
As he spoke, another eager wizard raised their staff and fired a prism at the parrot. Still unwilling to return to being a target, the parrot impatiently spread one wing. The beam reflected back, knocking the wizard unconscious. A scream from behind served as perfect proof. Parrot nodded.
“Me… Wizard Tournament… I have to join… the deadliest competition…”
Once Parrot ended the chaos, the crowd dispersed, leaving Branzy clutching his redstone wand, staring blankly, muttering to himself.
“How am I supposed to survive in Lifesteal…?”