《Wizard With Daily Task Panel!》 Chapter 1: Wizard’s Apprentice! Chapter 1: Wizard''s Apprentice!Under the dim, flickering light of the cramped laboratory, the air was thick with the mingled scents of blood and medicinal herbs. A man in a black robe, his face hidden behind a mask, stood with his back to Leonard, his voice cold and detached. "Take care of the magic herbs in the pharmacy later," the man commanded. "And clean up the laboratory. Dispose of the waste." "Understood, teacher," Leonard replied calmly, standing a few paces behind. His hands clasped in front of him, he waited, expressionless. The laboratory was a makeshift space in the basement, sparsely furnished but meticulously organized. Long tables lined the walls, covered with glass jars and bottles filled with strange substances. At the center of the room stood a large table, where the man, his movements precise and practiced, loomed over an unconscious teenager strapped to an operating surface. The man, a self-proclaimed wizard named Alfonso, held a syringe filled with an ominous liquid. Without hesitation, he plunged it into the boy''s vein. Almost immediately, the boy''s body convulsed violently. His chest heaved, foam bubbled at his lips, and his arm began to mutate grotesquely. Muscles swelled, veins darkened, and a layer of dark green scales spread across the skin. Leonard watched, unflinching. He had grown numb to these horrors. Fear and revulsion had long since given way to cold resignation. He knew better than to react. Alfonso, a man of extraordinary but cruel power, had made it clear that survival depended on absolute obedience. Three months ago, Leonard had been a fugitive, fleeing with a group of refugees, when Alfonso captured him. Like many others, Leonard was destined to be an "experimental material." But his fate shifted when Alfonso discovered Leonard possessed the rare potential to become a wizard. That potential had saved his life, though "life" had become a hollow term in this twisted existence. The boy''s arm continued to swell until it reached a grotesque size. Leonard, familiar with the pattern, closed his eyes and counted silently. Bang. The arm exploded. A sickening burst of flesh and bone sent blood splattering across the table. The blast tore apart the boy''s right chest, leaving his organs exposed. The agonizing pain jolted him awake, and his scream echoed through the room. Alfonso hissed a curse in his native tongue, his frustration evident. Without sparing the boy another glance, he stormed out of the room. Leonard stepped forward, picking up a broom from the corner. He began the grim task of sweeping the scattered remains. "Devil," the boy rasped, his voice ragged and filled with hatred. "You devil." Leonard paused. His face betrayed no emotion as he retrieved a dagger from his pocket. Without a word, he ended the boy''s suffering, his movements quick and precise. He had no room for guilt or pity; only the efficiency of someone who had done this far too many times before. Afterward, Leonard slipped the lifeless body into a black sack, tying it tightly. He fetched a mop and a large glass jar filled with an inky black liquid. Pouring the liquid over the bloodstains, he watched as it dissolved the evidence, leaving the floor spotless once again. The room was silent, save for the faint sound of his mop sliding across the floor. Leonard worked methodically, his mind as blank as the cleaned floor beneath him. He wasn''t living, he was surviving, and in this place, that was the only thing that mattered. Leonard meticulously returned the bottles and jars to their designated spots on the table. Each container held something peculiar: a half-submerged tail suspended in liquid, walnut-sized eyeballs, a thick, dark green sludge, and a pristine white fluid. He organized them with precision, sorting by material properties, bottle size, and shape, creating an arrangement that was both efficient and oddly beautiful. This attention to detail was exactly why Alfonso trusted Leonard with the task of maintaining the laboratory. The space, under Leonard''s care, was more than just tidy, it was visually striking, and everything was perfectly positioned for easy use. Alfonso often remarked that Leonard''s organizational skills were eerily fitting for a wizard in the making. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. As Leonard stepped back to admire his work, a faint shimmer caught his eye. In the corner of his vision, a transparent screen materialized, visible only to him. Lines of text appeared in crisp, black characters, formatted neatly in a style he had come to recognize: --- Task Completed: Clean the Laboratory (I) Objective: Clean the laboratory and maintain its order. Completion Level: Pass Reward: 5 General Experience Points --- This strange task panel had appeared in Leonard''s mind after he first meditated using the method taught by Alfonso. Only he could see it, and so far, it had presented him with a series of mundane "daily tasks": cleaning the lab, tending to magical plants, gathering materials. Each task was rated with levels of completion; Unqualified, Qualified, and Good, but Leonard had yet to achieve a rank higher than "Good." For now, the rewards were limited to general experience points, which could be used to progress his abilities. A quick glance at his current stats revealed: --- Leonard Level: 2 (1/100) Physical Fitness: 1.32 Mental Strength: 1.9 Mastery: Earth Ring Meditation: 6% Universal Experience Points: 75 --- The Earth Ring Meditation Method was the foundational technique Alfonso had taught him. Its principle was deceptively simple yet maddeningly difficult: mentally construct a chain of one hundred interconnected Earth Rings. Each successfully completed ring increased mastery by 1% and boosted Leonard''s mental strength by 0.1. A fully realized chain would bring a 10-point increase in mental strength, a significant step toward mastering wizardry. Alfonso had promised that once Leonard mastered this meditation, he would be able to cast his first one-ring spell: Earth Ring Chain. The spell, like the meditation, was rooted in intricate patterns of connection and power. Alfonso, however, had been clear about the rules. Beyond meditation, every piece of wizardly knowledge came at a cost. "Wizards operate on the principle of equal exchange," Alfonso had said. "The meditation method is my one gift to you as my student. Anything else, you must earn through labor." Satisfied with his progress and the task completed, Leonard left the laboratory. He stepped into the narrow, dimly lit corridor outside and made his way to the next room, where he rinsed the mop and hung it on the rough, stone wall of the bathroom. Each motion was mechanical, but his mind was elsewhere, turning over the steps required to forge the next link in his mental chain. Each day brought him closer to unlocking the true power of a wizard or so he hoped. The corridor stretched deeper into the dimly lit passage, its walls lined with candles spaced every few meters. The flames flickered weakly, casting long, uneven shadows that barely illuminated the surroundings. In the faint light, the outlines of heavy iron doors became visible, each marking the cells where Alfonso''s "materials" were confined. Six rooms held the captives: ten humans and one creature. These were Leonard''s responsibility. His teacher, Alfonso, had no patience for such mundane tasks, delegating them to his apprentice without a second thought. After three months under Alfonso''s tutelage, Leonard had come to understand his master''s routines. Alfonso spent most of his time locked away in his private quarters, likely meditating. The rest of his day was divided between brewing potions, conducting injection experiments, and venturing out to capture new "materials." Leonard carried a black sack as he walked deeper into the corridor. The air grew colder, and the heavy silence was punctuated by intermittent coughs from one of the rooms. The iron-barred doors lining the walls had been modified with additional reinforcements, ensuring no one escaped. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, the captives stirred. From the darkness of their cells, voices rang out, pleading, bargaining, or threatening. "Please, let me go! My family is rich! They''ll pay you anything you want!" "My father is a knight! He''ll hunt you down and kill every last one of you devils!" "You''re such a handsome boy. I''ll do whatever you want, just don''t leave me here!" The voices came from men, women, and even the elderly. Their words clawed at Leonard, but his expression remained blank. He had heard it all before. None of it mattered. He couldn''t help them. Even if he freed them, the house was rigged with Alfonso''s magic traps at every exit. Any attempt to escape would result in certain death and such an act of defiance would cost Leonard his own life as well. Despite the tenuous trust Alfonso had in him, Leonard knew his teacher always held the upper hand. Alfonso had disclosed the existence of the traps but deliberately left out any instructions on how to disable them. Leonard understood the message: disobedience was not an option. At the end of the corridor, he reached the final room. Unlike the others, it was eerily silent. Through the small, barred window in the door, only pitch-black darkness was visible. Yet something about the room emanated a primal sense of danger. Leonard paused, his instincts screaming a warning. Slowly, he took a key from the ring at his waist, unlocked the door, and without stepping inside, he flung the black sack into the room. The door was locked again in an instant. Inside, there was a sudden clash of chains, followed by a chilling hiss. Then came the unmistakable sounds of savage tearing and chewing. Leonard didn''t linger. "Hey, boy." A hoarse voice called out from a nearby cell. Leonard turned to see a strong man, his face gaunt and pale, gripping the iron bars. He coughed weakly before speaking again. "Can you... take a message for me?" Leonard hesitated. "I may not be able to deliver it," he replied flatly. The man smiled faintly, his voice calm despite the hopelessness of his situation. "Doesn''t matter. At least it''s something. Better than nothing, right?" He coughed again, quieter this time, then continued. "My wife... her name is Beauvais. Thin, red-haired, only about as tall as your shoulder. She was with the refugee group heading south, toward Bangor Harbor." The man''s voice cracked as he spoke, but his gaze remained steady. "If you ever find her... tell her I love her. My name''s Lauren. Tell her I''ve always loved her." From his tattered shoe, he pulled out four dark silver coins and pushed them through the bars. "This is all I have. I hope you don''t mind." Leonard stood silent for a moment, then nodded. He accepted the coins and turned to leave. He didn''t look back, but as he walked away, he heard the faint murmur of the man''s prayers, spoken softly in the darkness. Leonard''s footsteps echoed down the corridor, his expression unchanged. Yet deep inside, the weight of those words lingered, heavier than the sack he had carried. Chapter 2: Daily Tasks! Chapter 2: Daily Tasks!Leonard stepped out of the ominous inner chamber and entered a brighter room near the outer edge of the building. This space had a small patio, its ceiling open to the sky. Cold, white sunlight streamed down, bathing four tiny flower pots arranged at the bottom. Each pot contained a petite plant resembling a miniature honeysuckle. The plants were unassuming, with only a few round leaves and a slender stem that supported a single, oversized flower bud. These buds, pale pink and tightly furled, showed only the faintest hint of opening. Their surfaces glistened with tiny, crystal-like dewdrops. Leonard retrieved a glass bottle and a delicate glass rod from his pouch. Gently, he touched the rod to the dewdrops, watching as they clung to its surface as if magnetized. He carefully transferred the collected dew into the bottle, repeating the process until all four flowers were bare of their glistening droplets. By the end, the bottom of the bottle held only a thin layer of liquid, shimmering faintly. These plants were ''Purple Phoenix Flowers'', a valuable ingredient for potions. They thrived on the paradox of their environment, requiring both direct sunlight and cool, humid air, making their cultivation especially challenging. Over three months of careful nurturing, the daily dew from their petals developed potent magical properties, acting as a critical 0-level potion material with strong channeling effects. Alfonso often used it in his experiments. All of this information Leonard had gleaned from a handwritten notebook Alfonso had given him as a reward for his diligence in tending the magical plants and managing daily chores. The notebook, though disorganized and incomplete, was a treasure trove of scattered wizardly knowledge. It detailed the properties of potions, magical plants, mutations, anatomy, and even the basics of bloodline theory. For Leonard, this notebook was more than a collection of information, it was a key to another world. Each page opened his mind further, offering glimpses of the boundless possibilities of wizardry. Holding it in his hands felt like standing at the threshold of something extraordinary, peering into an unfamiliar but thrilling landscape. --- Later, in the quiet of the kitchen, Leonard busied himself over a bubbling iron pot. Inside, a thick yellow-green stew simmered as he stirred it with a heavy iron spoon. The appearance was less than appetizing, but the aroma was surprisingly decent. "Not bad," he murmured, taking pride in his creation. His experience in cooking, a talent carried over from his previous life, allowed him to transform even the simplest ingredients into something palatable. Though the options here were limited, his skill made the most of what was available. He fished out three mushy, sweet-potato-like roots that had softened into an unrecognizable state after prolonged boiling. Their taste was sweet and sticky, making them one of the few ingredients he genuinely enjoyed. Next, he added a handful of wilted vegetable leaves to his bowl and finally claimed the only piece of meat in the pot, a single bone with scraps of flesh clinging to it. Leonard examined the meat with mild curiosity. It had come from a creature Alfonso had brought back two days ago, something resembling a rat but as large as a cat. Whatever it was, it was now dinner. Alfonso, of course, refused to eat any of it. "I''m a wizard. I have no need for food," he had declared with characteristic arrogance. Leonard had accepted this without question until the day he spotted grease stains on the old man''s lips, a telltale sign that Alfonso had been sneaking better meals in private. The memory brought a faint smirk to Leonard''s face as he sat down with his bowl. If there was one small advantage to being the one who cooked, it was that he got to eat before anyone else, enjoying his hard-earned meal without delay. Leonard poured the food from the iron pot into a bucket and headed toward the basement. As he walked down the dim corridor, the clanging of the bucket and the spoon echoed around him. Behind the doors lining the hallway, the prisoners stirred. One by one, they shuffled to their cell doors, bowls clutched tightly in their hands, their eyes hollow with hunger. In this grim place, there were only two meals a day. The food was sparse, thin soup, watery porridge, and a few stray vegetable leaves. Meat was a luxury they could only dream of; even oil was scarce. To stave off hunger, the prisoners drank as much as they could, but their meals did little to sustain them. Most of their days were spent lying on the cold ground, conserving what little energy they had. Leonard methodically ladled the meager portions into each outstretched bowl. Pleas for more echoed in the corridor, but he had none to give. The bucket was empty before long. Ignoring the disappointed murmurs, Leonard returned to the kitchen and sat down to eat his own meal; a similar, unimpressive portion. As he finished, a faint notification appeared in the corner of his vision: "Daily Task Completed: Cooking (I) Cook a complete pot of food." "Completion Level: Pass." "Reward: 5 General Experience Points." But completing the daily task wasn''t as simple as just cooking. The task required him to consume every last bit of the prepared food. This rule crushed any notion of mass-producing meals for easy rewards. Efficiency had no place in this system. After cleaning up the pots and bowls, Leonard retreated to his room. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he closed his eyes and began his nightly meditation. The familiar stillness enveloped him, and the dark void of his mind became populated by tiny, floating specks of light. The specks came in various colors; red, blue, white, purple, and green, representing the elements that wizards manipulated to cast spells. However, Leonard wasn''t searching for these. What he sought was something much rarer: faint blue dust-like specks, the essence of mental power. Focusing on the Earth Ring meditation method, Leonard visualized the intricate construct in his mind. Each ring was a masterpiece of delicate runes and precise lines, far more challenging than it appeared. Thankfully, the hardest step, the creation of the first ring; was already behind him. That had taken nearly a week of painstaking effort. Now, with six rings completed, the process was smoother. Time blurred as he worked to form the seventh ring. His breathing was steady, and the flickering candlelight on the nearby table cast long shadows across the room. Slowly but surely, the seventh Earth Ring took shape, its intricate runes locking into place. The faint blue specks in the air seemed to gravitate toward him, pouring into his mind like a rushing tide. A sharp clarity overwhelmed him, flooding his thoughts with lucidity. His mental strength surged ever so slightly, sharpening his focus and enhancing his memory. When the sensation finally faded, Leonard opened his eyes. He felt refreshed, his mind clearer than it had been before. Another step forward, another ring complete. The path was long, but with every meditation, he grew stronger. Leonard Level: 2 (1/100) Physical Fitness: 1.32 Mental Strength: 2.0 Mastery: Earth Ring Meditation (7%) General Experience Points: 80 Leonard noticed his mental strength had increased by 0.1. It might not seem like much, but it was equivalent to one-tenth of an average adult''s total mental capacity; a significant gain. The progress in his meditation was accelerating. Constructing the seventh Earth Ring had taken just two days, a pace far faster than when he first began. If this continued, reaching the hundredth ring no longer felt like an impossible dream. The moon hung high in the night sky, signaling the late hour. Leonard stood and poured himself a glass of water. The cold liquid refreshed him as he moved to the window, gazing outside. Above, the moon glowed like a silver disc, round and luminous. But its beauty was haunting. At the moon''s center, the silhouette of a woman stood with arms crossed over her chest. Her entire figure, silver like a statue, seemed carved into the moon itself. According to Alfonso, that figure was a god, one imprisoned on the moon by a wizard''s hand. Leonard''s fingers rested on the windowsill as his gaze drifted downward, past the moonlit sky to the tall pines surrounding the estate. Through their dense, shadowy outlines, he could just make out the distant silhouette of a town. Its rooftops and spires cast jagged shadows against the faint glow of the horizon. His thoughts wandered, pulling him into memories of the past. It had been a year since he awakened to the memories of his former life. At first, the flood of memories was disorienting, blending the realities of two lifetimes into a confusing haze. For days, he lay in bed, unable to distinguish truth from illusion, until he finally pieced it together. This world resembled the era just after the Industrial Revolution but with a darker twist; rigid class systems and the presence of extraordinary powers. War, famine, and plagues were constant threats, tearing apart lives and communities. S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. A year ago, Leonard had been part of the great refugee tide, fleeing south with his family to escape the famine. Rumors spoke of Bangor Port, a haven untouched by war and starvation. It was said one could take a ship from there to safer continents. During their desperate journey, Leonard witnessed the extraordinary power of knights. These warriors, their bodies enhanced to monstrous levels, fought and destroyed the plague-born creatures that preyed on the refugees. The battle was chaotic and devastating, scattering the refugees in all directions. In the chaos, Leonard was separated from his family. Lost and terrified, he fled with a small group of refugees, only to fall into the hands of Alfonsoa, a wizard conducting experiments in secret. Now, months later, he still found himself under Alfonso''s control. In this chaotic world, disappearances were common, and no one except close family mourned the missing. Leonard didn''t know if his parents or siblings in this life had reached Bangor Port safely. That uncertainty gnawed at him. He sighed softly, his expression clouded with sadness. He had been fortunate to survive this long, and he didn''t dare ask for much more. At least Alfonso had given him access to the path of extraordinary power. Compared to those who perished on the wizard''s operating table, Leonard considered himself lucky. Even so, he couldn''t stop worrying about his family. He had asked Alfonso for help finding them, but the wizard dismissed his pleas coldly. Alfonso''s experiments, he claimed, were at a critical juncture. Once they were complete, he might consider assisting Leonard. But Alfonso also warned him of something chilling: wizards live far longer than ordinary people. Through alchemy, blood rituals, and other transformations, they could extend their lives for centuries. To such beings, family was nothing more than a fleeting memory, a brief Chapter in an endless existence. Leonard''s grip on the windowsill tightened. He couldn''t accept that. His family wasn''t just a passing detail in his life he who had awakened his memories of his previous life recognised them as his family; they were his anchor, his reason to keep fighting. He vowed silently to find them, no matter how long it took. Chapter 3: Mutation Science! Chapter 3: Mutation Science!Leonard didn''t agree with Alfonso''s remarks about family being mere "embellishments" in the long journey of a wizard''s life. However, he chose not to argue. Alfonso was his teacher, after all, and challenging him outright rarely led anywhere productive. Still, Leonard couldn''t help but voice a lingering question. "If wizards can extend their own lives," he asked, "why can''t they do the same for their families?" Alfonso didn''t answer. Instead, he gave Leonard a cryptic smile, one that was both dismissive and faintly amused, as if Leonard had asked a question too naive to warrant a response. --- The next morning, Leonard was up early. He cleaned the three-story building meticulously, wiping every surface until it gleamed. Once finished, he stepped into the patio to inspect the purple phoenix flowers, a delicate species that Alfonso insisted be kept in pristine condition. Satisfied that they were thriving, he made his way to the attic, checking that everything was in order. The building they lived in was perched on a secluded mountain in the suburbs. Its small, neglected courtyard was surrounded by dense pine trees, and beneath the structure lay two basements, their original purpose a mystery. The iron railings and strange architecture hinted at a history that predated their occupation. Whoever had owned the place before had left behind only remnants, now repurposed by Alfonso and Leonard. After finishing his rounds, Leonard prepared ingredients in the kitchen and moved on to the laboratory to ensure the equipment was clean and functional. It was part of his routine; he always checked everything before Alfonso began his experiments. His teacher had a habit of sleeping in, typically rising around ten. But today was different. As Leonard heard footsteps descending the stairs earlier than expected, he looked up in surprise. Alfonso appeared, his thin frame and sharp features bathed in the morning light. He looked invigorated, his expression brighter than usual. Something had clearly pleased him. Leonard had learned that Alfonso''s moods could shift with the smallest changes in his experiments, and today seemed to be a good day. "People always feel refreshed when good things happen," Leonard thought, watching his teacher head toward the basement laboratory. --- Alfonso began working swiftly. Leonard stood nearby, observing with rapt attention. The laboratory soon filled with the sharp, acrid smell of chemicals as Alfonso skillfully manipulated test tubes and flasks. Liquids of various colors bubbled and transformed under his hands. A vivid blue solution turned yellow-green before settling into a deep, murky green. Alfonso added peculiar ingredients to the mixture, each more bizarre than the last; a pinch of powdered bone, a sliver of something that shimmered like fish scales, and droplets of viscous, black liquid. Leonard''s fascination grew, but his expression betrayed his unease, his lips twitching as if suppressing a grimace. He felt like a bewildered old man staring at incomprehensible technology. Finally, Alfonso poured the concoction into a syringe, the liquid thick and sluggish. Holding the syringe in one hand, he pushed open the heavy door to the hallway and gestured for Leonard to follow. "Open this door," Alfonso instructed, nodding toward a locked room. A terrified voice came from inside. "No! No, please!" Ignoring the plea, Leonard unlocked the door. Alfonso stepped inside, and moments later emerged, dragging an adult man as though he weighed nothing. The man, David, struggled weakly in Alfonso''s grip, his face pale and resigned. David''s eyes flicked to Leonard, and a flicker of hope appeared in his gaze. He forced a shaky smile, silently pleading for help. Leonard felt a pang of guilt but kept his expression neutral. He knew better than to interfere. Alfonso might look frail, his thin face, bony frame, and black-rimmed glasses often gave the impression of vulnerability, but his strength was unnaturally monstrous. Leonard suspected body augmentation. Wizards, after all, often modified themselves to eliminate weaknesses, becoming a blend of scholar and predator. David was carried to the operating table, where Alfonso chained his hands and feet. "Come closer," Alfonso said, beckoning Leonard. Leonard hesitated before stepping forward, positioning himself beside his teacher. Alfonso injected David with a milky-white potion. Within seconds, David slumped into unconsciousness. Then came the second injection, the dark green serum. Alfonso pushed the plunger slowly, sending the viscous liquid into David''s veins. Leonard watched intently as David''s body began to transform. His arms swelled grotesquely, muscles ballooning beneath the skin. A layer of green, scaly plates emerged, spreading rapidly across his forearms. The sight was unnerving, even for Leonard, who had witnessed these experiments before. The swelling continued, and Leonard instinctively tensed. His thoughts raced. ''This is it. This is the one that''s going to explode.'' But the anticipated detonation never came. David''s arms grew larger and more deformed, the green scales gleaming under the laboratory lights. Despite himself, Leonard couldn''t look away, both horrified and mesmerized by the transformation. Alfonso leaned closer to his subject, a glint of excitement in his eyes. Leonard, on the other hand, stepped back slightly, silently wondering how many more such experiments would fail or succeed, in the pursuit of Alfonso''s elusive goals. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard opened his eyes and stared at David, lying on the operating table, his curiosity piqued. David''s right arm was grotesquely transformed, it resembled the limb of a lizard, scales glinting under the harsh laboratory lights. The connection between the mutated arm and his torso was unnervingly unnatural; thick, bulging blood vessels extended from the shoulder, snaking across his chest and pulsing like living worms. But while the arm seemed powerful, David''s vitality was visibly draining. His cheeks hollowed out, and his breathing became shallow. Alfonso, standing nearby, quickly drew another syringe of clear liquid and injected it into David''s neck. David''s breathing stabilized almost immediately, and the rapid consumption of his life force slowed. "It''s the life force," Alfonso murmured to himself, his voice tinged with excitement. "Exactly as I theorized. My potion''s concept is flawless." Leonard observed in silence as David''s body continued to twist and change. The man on the table was no longer human; he had become a half-lizard, half-man abomination. Green scales covered his skin, his limbs swelled grotesquely, and his fingers elongated into clawed talons. Then, with a sudden jolt, the creature opened its eyes. Leonard froze, meeting its gaze. The slitted, snake-like pupils flickered with confusion, then shock. The creature raised its grotesque arm, its movements sluggish at first. As it turned its head to inspect its new limb, recognition dawned, and a low, guttural growl escaped its throat. It stared at the scaly, clawed arm, disbelief and horror filling its eyes. ''This is my arm?'' the creature seemed to realize. ''What happened to me?'' The confusion turned into rage. It bared its sharp teeth and let out a furious, animalistic roar, the sound reverberating through the laboratory. The lizard man pulled at the chain binding its arm to the operating table. The tension in the chain made it groan and rattle, and the table began to tremble under the force. Bang! The bolts securing the chain to the table gave way, sending screws flying across the room. With a deafening crash, the creature lashed out, swinging the loose chain wildly. The iron links gleamed as they hurtled through the air, aimed directly at Alfonso. But Alfonso remained calm. As the chain struck, a faint silver glow emanated from his black robe, forming a protective barrier. The chain rebounded with a loud ''clang'', flying harmlessly to the side. Without missing a beat, Alfonso raised his arm, and a slender branch shot out from his sleeve. The branch moved like a living serpent, coiling around the lizard man''s body. Despite its delicate appearance, the branch tightened with incredible strength, binding the creature completely. Leonard watched in amazement as the creature''s struggles weakened. "That branch..." he murmured to himself, marveling at how something so thin could restrain such raw power. Alfonso smirked, clearly pleased with the result. "What an excellent test subject," he said, his voice laced with both pride and something darker. Then, with a quick gesture, Alfonso uttered an arcane, guttural word. A gray mist materialized in the air before sinking into the lizard man''s forehead. The creature spasmed, its eyes rolling back as its body went limp. "It''s a simple sleep spell," Alfonso explained, noticing Leonard''s inquisitive expression. "A zero-ring spell, but effective. Some test subjects don''t like to cooperate. This ensures they stay... quiet." Leonard nodded, his curiosity undiminished. "I see you''re interested in mutation science," Alfonso said, his tone almost indulgent. He raised his hand, and the ruby ring on his finger glinted faintly. A moment later, a leather-bound notebook materialized in his palm. The cover was worn but well-cared-for, its surface shining under the candlelight. "This is an introductory notebook I kept during my early studies on mutation," Alfonso continued, handing it to Leonard. "It''s filled with my observations, theories, and insights. It will help you grasp the basics." Leonard accepted the book with both hands, bowing respectfully. "Thank you, Teacher, for sharing your knowledge." Alfonso nodded, clearly satisfied with Leonard''s demeanor. "Study it thoroughly. It contains the foundation of everything I''ve achieved in this field." "I will, Teacher," Leonard replied earnestly. "I won''t waste this opportunity." "Good," Alfonso said, his voice taking on a commanding edge. "You have five days to go through it. After that, I''ll test your understanding. If there''s anything you don''t grasp, come to me with questions." Leonard bowed again, clutching the notebook tightly. "I''ll make sure to prepare well." "Go on, then. I have other experiments to attend to," Alfonso dismissed him with a wave. Leonard turned to leave, his thoughts racing with anticipation and a touch of unease. Just as he reached the door, Alfonso''s voice called out again. "And Leonard," he said, his tone almost casual, "make sure to clean the lab later. We can''t let anything go to waste." "Yes, Teacher," Leonard replied, closing the door behind him. With the leather-bound book in his hands, he returned to his room, ready to dive into the strange and dangerous world of mutation science. Chapter 4: Life Occupation! Chapter 4: Life Occupation!Leonard climbed the creaking wooden stairs, the leather-bound notebook clutched tightly in his hands. The faint smell of old wood and candle wax filled the narrow corridor as he returned to his room on the first floor. Once inside, Leonard shut the door softly behind his and sat by the small desk, placing the notebook in front of his. His fingers ran over the leather cover, feeling its worn texture, the cracks and creases told of the age and use of the book. The book carried the weight of history, its faded heen catching the dim light. With a deep breath, Leonard opened it, his curiosity outweighing any sense of fatigue. The pages were filled with dense, handwritten notes, but the beginning surprised his. It wasn''t just a collection of facts and diagrams, it was written like a journal. --- "Year 4670 of the Seventh Age of Wizarding, 13th Month, 5th Day. Today I attended my first mutation course at the academy. It''s a pity I joined late; this course has already been running for a month, and I don''t understand many of the terms the professor uses. But I will study hard. After all, this course cost me ten magic stones, and it is my only hope. Marlin told me that my sister''s condition might be related to a curse caused by mutation infection. If I can master this field, I might find a way to save her." --- Leonard leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought. ''The Seventh Age of Wizarding?'' he mused. ''That''s a time I''ve never heard of. Is this how wizards measure time in this world?'' The mention of the "thirteenth month" intrigued him, though he had long grown accustomed to this world''s peculiar calendar. In this place, a year consisted of thirteen months, each with exactly thirty days, totaling 390 days annually. It wasn''t a difficult adjustment, just twenty days longer than what he remembered from his previous life. But what truly caught his attention was the mention of an ''academy.'' Alfonso''s notes suggested a structured institution where wizards studied and shared knowledge, a concept far removed from the isolated and secretive life his teacher currently led. ''So, my teacher isn''t entirely self-taught,'' Leonard thought with mild amusement. ''I had assumed his knowledge came solely from personal experimentation. Who would have guessed he was once a student like me?'' He turned the page, eager for more. --- "Year 4670 of the Seventh Age of Wizarding, 13th Month, 10th Day. With Marlin''s help and hours spent in the academy''s library, I can now begin to grasp what the teacher is saying during lectures. Today was productive, and I''ve made great progress. But my sister''s condition is worsening. Time is running out. Alfonso, you must work harder. She is your only family, and she is depending on you. I both love and hate this place. The academy is a treasure trove of knowledge, but it is so cold here. Interactions between wizards are dictated by strict rules of exchange, knowledge for knowledge, service for service. There is no warmth, no camaraderie, only the constant negotiation of benefits." --- Leonard''s lips twitched into a small smile. ''So, the cold, detached Alfonso I know was once a desperate young man, full of determination and even... kindness?'' The idea of his aloof teacher worrying about a sibling or struggling to fit in at the academy was almost hard to believe. He flipped further through the book, but the personal diary entries began to thin out. In their place were meticulous notes and observations, diagrams of cells, sketches of grotesque creatures, and formulas scrawled alongside calculations. The content grew progressively more advanced, leading Leonard deeper into the intricacies of mutation science. --- Mutation science, as the notes explained, was a vast field, closely intertwined with hemology, the study of blood. The relationship between the two was like that of biology and chemistry in his previous life, distinct yet inseparable. A master of mutation science, the notes stressed, must also excel in hemology. Conversely, an expert in blood studies needed a strong foundation in mutation science. Both disciplines revolved around the analysis and manipulation of extraordinary creatures; beings with magical abilities, existing across various planes of existence. The process of mutation science included research, dissection, transplantation, replication, and forced evolution. Leonard realized that Alfonso''s current research was likely a continuation of these principles, his experiments aimed at creating potions to replicate the powers of extraordinary beings, like the Lizardman serum he had seen in action. --- Leonard read on, captivated. The more he absorbed, the more the seemingly impenetrable world of mutation science began to make sense. Concepts that once felt alien were now falling into place, as if puzzle pieces were slotting together in his mind. Suddenly, a faint black message appeared in the corner of his vision: "Mutation science learned. Life Occupation Panel unlocked." Leonard blinked, momentarily startled. He turned his gaze inward, as if searching for the panel that had just been mentioned. his heart raced with anticipation. Leonard stared at his attribute panel, his curiosity heightened as he noticed the new section labeled "Life Occupation." --- Leonard Level: 2 (1/100) Physical Fitness: 1.32 Mental Strength: 2.0 Mastery: - Earth Ring Meditation (7%) Life Occupation: - Level 1 Mutation Science (1%) (0/10) General Experience: 90 --- A small plus sign glowed faintly next to ''Mutation Science''. Leonard''s eyebrows arched in intrigue. Experimentally, he hovered over it and realized his general experience points could be allocated to his new life occupation. "Ten points per percent?" Leonard murmured, calculating. "Not much, easy to earn back in a day." After a moment of thought, he decided to test it. He tapped the plus sign, allocating ten general experience points. The numbers flickered: (10/10) flahed briefly before resetting to (0/10). The Level 1 Mutation Science progress bar, however, climbed to 2%. --- Leonard leaned back, processing the implications. "So, ten general experience points equal 1% progress," he muttered. "To reach Level 2 in Mutation Science, I''d need 1,000 points. Well... actually, 990 since I''ve already got 1% progress." But then his thoughts shifted. "Wait... studying mutation science should also increase progress. If I can learn directly, I won''t have to rely entirely on experience points. That might cut down the ''tuition fee.''" --- As if in response to his realization, Leonard felt a subtle shift in his mind. It was as though a door creaked open in his consciousness. His meditation training had attuned him to such spiritual changes, and this felt significant, almost like a floodgate of knowledge being unlatched. He closed his eyes, focusing on the strange sensation. Information poured in, intangible at first but quickly solidifying into something coherent. The abstract fragments coalesced into entry-level knowledge of mutation science, concepts and principles he had never encountered before. Leonard opened his eyes slowly, his gaze sharpened by newfound understanding. "This... this is fascinating," he whispered. The knowledge wasn''t comprehensive, but it was a clear and structured introduction, filling in gaps in what he''d learned from Alfonso''s notebook. While incomplete, it laid a strong foundation for deeper exploration. --- "Mutation Science is a ''life profession,''" Leonard mused aloud, glancing back at the panel. "If that''s the case, are Blood Science and Alchemy also life professions? And if so, what counts as a ''main profession''?" He pondered this as the cool night air seeped into his room. Outside, the mountain loomed dark and silent, but the peace wouldn''t last. --- The Foot of the Mountain A hunter clad in patched animal skins hacked away at the dense undergrowth with his hatchet, his breath visible in the cold air. His voice carried back to the group following him. "I swear, the footprints I found last time went this way," he said, his tone hushed but urgent. "There''s an abandoned house ahead; been empty for years. Folks say it''s haunted. Could be where those missing people ended up." Trailing behind him was a group of over a dozen people. Most were members of the town''s security team, their torches casting flickering light on the narrow path. They wore leather armor and carried muskets, their faces grim. At the front of the security team strode their leader, a knight clad in full iron armor. Despite the heavy metal plates, he moved with remarkable ease, as though the armor weighed no more than paper. He carried an oil lamp in one hand, its faint glow illuminating the broad sword strapped to his back. The group ascended the eastern slopes of the mountain, a place rarely visited save by hunters and herbalists. The eerie quiet of the forest weighed on them as they pressed forward. --- Halfway up the mountain, the hunter stopped and pointed ahead. "There it is," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The group stared at the dilapidated structure before them. The wooden house was in shambles, the outer walls covered in ivy, the fence long rotted away, and the courtyard overrun with weeds. The air around it felt heavy, as though the place itself resented their presence. "This is it?" one of the guards spat, his frustration evident. The sheriff, a burly man with a musket slung over his back, stepped forward, his expression dark. "If you''re lying to us, hunter, you''ll regret it," he growled, gripping the barrel of his weapon. The hunter raised his hands defensively. "I''m not lying! This place fits the description, and I saw the tracks myself!" The sheriff glared but said nothing, glancing at the knight for instructions. The knight, unbothered by the tension, inspected the house from a distance, his eyes scanning for movement. "Check the perimeter," the knight ordered, his voice calm but commanding. The guards moved to comply, torches bobbing as they fanned out around the property. Meanwhile, the hunter lingered near the edge of the group, clearly uneasy. --- The house loomed in the torchlight, a relic of some forgotten era. Inside, its secrets waited, and Leonard, unbeknownst to the approaching group; was about to find himself entangled in their search for the truth. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Chapter 5: Magic Staff! Chapter 5: Magic Staff!"There''s someone in the room," the armored knight said, his voice steady and authoritative. The group froze. The idea of someone living in this remote, dilapidated wooden house was strange, almost suspicious. The mountains were treacherous, with wild animals and unpredictable weather. Why would anyone choose to live here instead of the relative safety of the town? The sheriff immediately clammed up at the knight''s words. He glanced at the knight''s back nervously, his earlier bravado melting into a sheepish silence. Only when the knight didn''t react further did the sheriff breathe a sigh of relief. Knight Matthew wasn''t a local, and everyone knew it. Their humble town couldn''t support someone of his rank or stature. It was said Matthew hailed from the fiefdom of a powerful noble family, having passed the elite knight trials. Even the mayor treated him with deference, and his mere presence commanded respect. "I saw a faint light behind one of the windows from a distance," Matthew said, his tone calm but sharp. "It went out as we approached." His words carried far in the still night, cutting through the silence of the woods. But they also reached someone else: Leonard, who was crouched behind a window inside the house. --- Leonard cursed under his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He''d been careful, extremely careful. With no curtains to shield him, he had dimmed the oil lamp to its lowest setting and placed it on the floor, far from the window. Without the light, he couldn''t read the notebook. But it was better to strain his eyes than to risk detection. When he first heard the sounds of people approaching, he had acted swiftly, extinguishing the lamp and slipping into another room. From there, he watched them through a crack in the wooden planks, hoping they''d pass by. But now it was clear: these people weren''t here by accident. Leonard''s frown deepened as he studied the group from the shadows. Most of them carried muskets, crude yet deadly weapons. A single shot from one could rip through him with ease. Worse still, he doubted even Alfonso''s arcane defenses could stop a concentrated volley of firepower. ''If they catch me...'' Leonard swallowed hard, his mind racing. He had no illusions about his fate. As Alfonso''s apprentice, he''d be tied to all of his teacher''s crimes. Best case scenario, he''d hang. Worst case... ''burned alive.'' He couldn''t afford to face them, not yet. --- Quietly, Leonard slipped away from the window and darted up the creaky staircase. His destination was clear: Alfonso''s master bedroom at the far end of the second floor. Only Alfonso could handle this situation. Leonard was too inexperienced, with no spells to his name and little hope of defending himself against armed attackers. Reaching the door, Leonard paused to steady his breathing. He knocked softly but firmly. "Teacher," he called, his voice low but urgent. No response. Leonard tried again, this time louder. "Teacher, it''s me. There''s something urgent¡ª" The door creaked open, just a crack. Alfonso''s face appeared in the gap, pale and hollow, his sunken eyes gleaming with cold intensity. His thin frame cast a shadow in the dim light, and his gaze felt like the bite of a serpent; sharp, piercing, and devoid of warmth. Leonard''s scalp prickled. "Leonard," Alfonso said slowly, his voice a chilling whisper, "I trust you have a very ''good'' reason for disturbing me at this hour." His bony face tilted slightly, the faintest flicker of menace curling in the corners of his lips. Swallowing hard, Leonard quickly explained. "Teacher, there are people outside. A group of them and many are carrying muskets." Alfonso''s expression didn''t change, but the air in the hallway seemed to grow heavier. He stared at Leonard for a moment longer, his gaze unblinking. Then, without a word, he pulled the door open and stepped out, his black robe trailing behind him like an ominous shadow. Leonard''s pulse quickened. He could hear the faint sound of footsteps crunching on the overgrown path just outside. Whoever these people were, they were almost at the house. Soon, they''d reach the yard, and after that, it wouldn''t take long for them to ascend the stairs. There was no time to waste. "Teacher," Leonard began, his voice edged with urgency. But Alfonso cut him off with a cold glare, raising a hand to silence him. "Don''t bother me with trivialities like this again," Alfonso said, his tone sharp and unyielding. "From now on, you''ll handle such interruptions yourself. There are two zero-ring spells recorded in this staff: ''Acid Missile'' and ''Mental Shock.'' Use them." As he spoke, the ruby ring on his finger flashed with a faint, silvery light. A moment later, a short oak staff materialized in his hand. He thrust it toward Leonard, who hesitated for only a second before taking it. Leonard stared at the closed door, then back at the staff in his hand. His heart sank. ''He expects me to handle this?'' --- Though he''d read about spellcasting and magical tools in Alfonso''s notebooks, Leonard had never used them in practice. His knowledge was purely theoretical, and now he was being thrown into a situation where failure could mean death, not just for him, but for his teacher as well. Leonard swallowed hard, gripping the oak staff tightly. His thoughts raced as he tried to recall everything he''d learned about using magical tools. ''The staff is a conduit,'' he reminded himself. ''The spells are pre-encoded into modules. All I have to do is channel my mental power into the staff and activate the spell I need.'' sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. It sounded simple in theory, but the weight of the situation made his hands tremble slightly. He glanced at the stairs, hearing the faint creak of boards beneath his feet. The intruders were closing in. Alfonso''s volatile nature left little room for mistakes. If Leonard failed to handle this, his teacher''s wrath might be worse than whatever the intruders had in store. Steeling himself, Leonard took a deep breath and focused. He concentrated his mental power, directing it toward the oak staff. --- To his relief, the connection came easily. It was like turning a key in a well-oiled lock. His mind touched the staff''s core, and suddenly, he could sense two distinct "buttons," though they weren''t physical. These intangible modules hovered in his awareness, waiting to be activated. ''So this is what the notebook meant by spell modules,'' Leonard thought, his nerves steadying slightly. ''The staff does the heavy lifting, all I need is the mental energy to press the right button.'' The moment of discovery was interrupted by a deafening ''boom'' from outside. A powerful elemental surge swept through the yard, shaking the entire building. Cold air rushed in, slamming against the window at the end of the second-floor corridor, causing the glass to rattle violently. A cacophony of panicked cries and pained wails followed. Leonard froze for a moment, his grip tightening on the staff. Whatever had triggered the surge had incapacitated at least some of the intruders, but it wouldn''t stop them all. --- He turned quickly and made his way downstairs, his steps as light as possible. His heartbeat thudded in his ears as memories of his past resurfaced, nights spent on the run, keeping watch with his father as refugees huddled in terror. He''d seen firsthand how desperation could strip people of humanity, turning them into monsters. A gruff voice cut through the night, loud and furious. "Damn it, there''s a magic trap here!" Another voice, shrill with fear, stammered, "W-what should we do?" "Go on! Scout ahead!" barked the first voice, anger masking an undertone of unease. --- Leonard reached the first floor and slipped into one of the rooms. Careful not to make a sound, he crouched behind a cracked window, its broken glass offering a jagged view of the yard. The scene outside was chaotic. Several figures were sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain. The trap Alfonso had set must have been triggered, sending a wave of magic through the intruders. But not all of them were incapacitated. A man in heavy leather armor stood near the center of the yard, his musket slung over his shoulder and his face twisted with frustration. He gestured sharply at a nervous-looking subordinate, who hesitated before stepping cautiously toward the house. Leonard''s fingers tightened around the staff. His heart raced, but his mind was clear. He didn''t have much time to act, and he couldn''t rely on another trap to thin their numbers further. The intruders were coming. It was up to him to stop them. The glass pane was far from pristine. Though technically transparent, it was clouded with impurities, distorting the view outside like a murky stream. Leonard crouched low, pressing himself to the ground. He tilted his head just enough to peek through the window with one cautious eye, his breath shallow and controlled. Outside, chaos reigned. The wooden archway that once stood proudly at the yard''s entrance now lay in ruins, splintered by a violent explosion. Frost blanketed the ground like a silent witness to the carnage. Scattered across the yard were seven or eight bodies, lifeless or too injured to move. The few who remained standing bore their own scars, some squatted, clutching wounds, while others shielded their faces in silent agony. Leonard''s mind raced. He knew this was Alfonso''s doing, magic traps meticulously laid throughout the yard and at every conceivable entrance and exit to the house. They weren''t just barriers; they were lethal snares designed to keep intruders out and prevent anyone inside from escaping. The leader of the group, a grim-faced knight, now stood on edge. His earlier confidence had been replaced by wary vigilance, his eyes scanning every corner. At the forefront, a hunter in animal skins crept toward the house, his bow slung over his shoulder and a dagger clenched tightly in his hand. Every step was deliberate, his head jerking back now and then as if expecting the shadows to strike. Meanwhile, a knight wielding a massive greatsword stood near the yard''s center. He leaned heavily on the blade, its tip buried in the frost-covered ground. His expression was dark, his eyes scanning the area like a hawk. Then, suddenly, he froze. His gaze locked on one of the windows. Leonard ducked instinctively, pressing his back against the wall. Had he been seen? His pulse quickened. The knight''s stare had been unnervingly precise, aimed directly at the window where Leonard had just been peeking. But it was night, and shadows danced freely. Leonard held onto a sliver of hope that he hadn''t been spotted. The hunter at the front of the group moved closer, his steps painstakingly careful. Leonard''s sharp eyes tracked his every movement. His mind flickered with calculated thoughts. A trap lay directly at the gate, he was certain of that. The ones at the rear of the house were more of a mystery, though he doubted Alfonso would have wasted effort there. Leonard had walked the perimeter countless times without incident. If the gate trap was triggered or destroyed, the intruders could pour into the house unhindered. That thought gnawed at him. The staff in his hands offered some solace, containing two spells ready to cast. But Leonard knew his limits. He wasn''t a seasoned wizard, barely a novice, in fact. His mental strength would only allow him to cast the spells three, maybe four times before exhaustion set in. That wouldn''t be enough. Not against these odds. The initial explosion had taken out seven of their number, but eleven still remained. Among them was the knight, a formidable foe with powers that made Leonard''s magic seem insignificant by comparison. His mind churned through the options. One of the spells, ''Mental Shock'', was precise but limited to a single target. The other, ''Acid Missile'', had a broader effect; its splash could harm multiple foes in close proximity. That would have to do. Leonard tightened his grip on the staff, summoning his mental energy. It surged forward like a rushing tide, filling the enchanted wood. He felt his reserves deplete, a fifth of his strength gone in an instant. The staff hummed with power, the spell poised to launch at his command. Steeling himself, Leonard''s eyes narrowed. This was it. The moment he had to act. Chapter 6: Power of the Staff! Chapter 6: Power of the Staff!Leonard''s gaze settled on the staff in his hand. At its tip, a faint purple glow pulsed gently, casting eerie reflections in the dim light. S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "The built-in glow... really?" Leonard muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "Who designs a staff that lights up like a torch? Subtlety, anyone?" He sighed, resolving that if he ever had the chance to craft his own staff, it would conceal all magic fluctuations and flashy effects. No self-respecting wizard would march into battle carrying a glowing beacon advertising their position. Taking a couple of quiet steps back from the window, Leonard melted into the shadows. His sharp eyes scanned the yard, locking onto the group near the gate. Adjusting his stance, he raised the staff and took careful aim, its glowing tip now a necessary nuisance. With a deep breath, he let the spell flow. A burst of purple light erupted from the staff''s tip, illuminating the yard briefly. The magic condensed rapidly, drawing in ambient energy. A sphere of purple-black liquid began forming mid-air, its surface swirling ominously. Leonard blinked in surprise. "This is supposed to be a zero-ring spell?" he whispered to himself. The acid missile was massive, easily the size of a basketball. He had expected something small, perhaps the size of an apple or a bullet. The sheer scale was both impressive and alarming. With a silent command, the sphere shot forward. It moved with incredible speed, slicing through the air like a well-aimed arrow. Leonard''s aim, however, was not perfect. The missile veered slightly, grazing the knight''s arm rather than striking him directly. The knight, Matthew, reacted instantly. Years of rigorous training had honed his reflexes to a razor''s edge. He drew his greatsword with a practiced motion, swinging it with the ease of someone swatting a fly. The blade cut through the acid missile cleanly, splitting it in two. "Whatever this is, it ends now," Matthew growled, his voice cold with authority. But as the acid missile ruptured, Matthew realized his mistake. The sphere exploded violently, sending a rain of acid droplets in every direction. It was like popping a balloon filled with liquid death. The knight barely had time to shield his face with his sword. Around him, the scene devolved into chaos. Acid rained down on the group, sizzling as it struck leather armor, weapons, and bare skin alike. A white, acrid smoke rose where the droplets landed, accompanied by a gut-wrenching hissing sound. Matthew''s instincts saved him, but his comrades were not so fortunate. The acid chewed through leather and steel, leaving armor riddled with holes. Where it touched flesh, the effect was far worse. Agonized screams pierced the night as the acid ate away at skin and muscle, exposing raw, oozing wounds. One man, standing just a few feet from Matthew, took a splash directly to the face. The acid spread like ink on paper, dissolving skin and bone alike. Within moments, his features were gone, replaced by a gaping black void. He collapsed, twitching, his life slipping away in agonized jerks. Matthew''s own greatsword didn''t escape unscathed. A loud ''clang'' drew his attention to the blade. The entire front half had corroded away, leaving him holding little more than the hilt and a jagged stub of steel. He stared at the ruined weapon, his jaw tightening. "What the hell is this stuff?" he muttered, his voice tinged with both anger and unease. The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh and metal, a choking reminder of the acid''s devastating power. The yard, moments ago tense but controlled, was now a scene of horror and disarray. Matthew''s face darkened further. His mind raced to reassess the situation. This wasn''t just magic, it was a weapon of terrifying precision and cruelty. Whoever had cast it was far from ordinary. In the shadows, Leonard watched the carnage unfold, his grip on the staff tightening. The acid missile had been more effective than he anticipated, but the knight still stood, battered but unbroken. "Next time," Leonard muttered under his breath, "I aim better." Matthew stood in the clearing, his face grim as he reviewed the intelligence reports. A wizard might be hiding here, they had said. But he had dealt with so-called wizards before, a ragtag bunch of charlatans who relied on cheap tricks and superstitious fear. Their "magic" was little more than carnival sleight-of-hand, the kind of thing you''d find at a traveling circus. "Probably another fraud," he muttered to himself. The acid attack earlier? Alchemy, perhaps. Some new concoction devised by overzealous alchemists. But as he pondered this, his thoughts were interrupted. A sudden, crushing pain smashed into his skull as if struck by an invisible sledgehammer. His vision swam, the world spinning in chaotic circles. His legs wobbled, and he struggled to keep himself upright. His broad sword slipped from his hand, its dull clatter lost in the confusion. "Ambush!" The word screamed in his mind, but it was too late. Matthew hadn''t even sensed it coming. From a darkened window on the second floor, Leonard observed the knight with a mix of satisfaction and surprise. Matthew was staggering like a drunk, clutching at empty air in a desperate bid to stay standing. Leonard smirked, though he remained cautious. "The mental shock worked better than expected. Even for a zero-ring spell, this... this is potent." He had underestimated the raw force of wizardry and, apparently, overestimated the knight''s resilience. With steady hands, Leonard raised his staff again. Magic pulsed faintly at its tip, a purple-black glow swirling as he focused. Another acid missile began to take shape, its ominous form condensing in the dark air. Leonard''s eyes narrowed, his target clear. The missile launched with a sharp hiss, streaking toward the staggering knight. This time, Leonard''s aim was flawless. The sphere struck Matthew directly in the head. The knight let out a guttural cry as the acid splashed across his helmet and face. He dropped to the ground, writhing in agony. His movements became jerky, frantic, and then slowed. The acid worked quickly, corroding his armor and eating into his flesh. Within moments, he was still, his once-formidable body reduced to a grotesque, pitted mass. Leonard lowered the staff, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion. Three spells in rapid succession, he could feel the strain pressing down on him. His legs wobbled faintly. "I need to pace myself," he muttered, shaking his head to clear it. His mental reserves were almost spent; one more spell was all he could manage. He turned his attention to the yard. Most of the intruders lay motionless, consumed by acid or immobilized by earlier traps. But four remained standing, their faces pale with fear. The survivors hesitated for a moment, glancing at each other. Then, as if reaching a silent consensus, they broke into a sprint, scattering in different directions as they fled down the mountain. Leonard clenched his jaw, debating whether to pursue. He could probably take out one more, maybe two if his aim was perfect. But he doubted he''d have the energy to fend off retaliation if they regrouped. Letting out a resigned sigh, he let them go. "They''re scared enough," he thought. "Let the mountain itself deal with them." But one remained. The hunter, the man who had led the group into the yard, stood frozen, his back pressed against a tree. His bow hung limply at his side, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He didn''t dare look toward the house, as if it would devour him whole. Leonard''s sharp gaze fell on the man. "You''re not getting away," he murmured coldly. He raised his staff once more, his last spell coiling into life. The hunter, sensing the shift, bolted; but it was too late. The acid missile streaked forward, an unstoppable force. It struck him squarely in the chest, exploding on impact. The hunter screamed, a sound that echoed briefly in the night before fading into silence. The acid consumed him entirely, leaving nothing behind, not even bones. Leonard leaned heavily against the window frame, exhaustion washing over him. The once-bustling yard was now silent, filled only with the smell of burnt flesh and the faint, acrid tang of acid lingering in the air. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Never underestimate the cost of magic," he reminded himself. But in the back of his mind, there was a flicker of triumph. He had survived. Chapter 7: Servant! Chapter 7: Servant!"This spell... it''s terrifyingly convenient," Leonard muttered to himself, glancing at the ground where the remains of his latest victim had dissolved into nothingness. "No corpses, no traces. It''s like erasing reality itself." He leaned on his staff, his thoughts turning inward. "The power of wizards truly is staggering," he mused, his eyes narrowing as the gravity of what he had just done sank in. "And yet, I''m not even an apprentice, just a novice with a borrowed staff. Still, I managed to take down a dozen trained fighters, including a knight." Leonard couldn''t help but wonder about the teacher who had so effortlessly introduced him to this world of magic. "If I, at this level, can accomplish so much, what kind of unimaginable power must someone like Alfonso wield?" He recalled the teachings from the wizard manual. Wizards weren''t the fragile glass cannons of legend; they were versatile, resilient; hexagonal warriors, as the manual had described them. But he was no true wizard. Not yet. "What I did today," Leonard muttered, "wasn''t real power. It was an ambush, pure and simple. I had the high ground, the element of surprise, and luck. If they''d caught me off-guard, a single musket shot, a heavy blade, or an arrow would''ve been the end of me." Leonard straightened, gripping his staff tighter. "But things will improve. Alfonso will teach me more, and I''ll grow stronger. I have to." His gaze turned toward the yard, now eerily silent. A knot of unease tightened in his chest. "So many died today. I don''t know who sent them, but they weren''t just mercenaries. Knights like that don''t come cheap. Nobles? Town officials?" He thought of the implications. Alfonso had been collecting experimental materials; people, taken from nearby towns and villages. If one of those victims was connected to someone powerful, like a noble or an official, retaliation was inevitable. "They''ll send more next time," Leonard muttered grimly. "Better trained, better prepared. And when they do, I''ll need to be ready. I just hope it happens during the day, when Alfonso can handle them." Determined to prepare, Leonard resolved to meditate harder and trigger more daily tasks from his mysterious system panel. Yet, the system was frustratingly rigid, only offering tasks when certain conditions were met. Completing these tasks rewarded him with experience points, which he could use to level up. Each level increased all his attributes, physical fitness, mental strength, and more; by a small but tangible amount. He had already felt the difference after his last upgrade. His meditation had become smoother, more efficient. "It''s like improving my qualifications," he realized. "The faster I progress now, the greater the rewards in the long run." Still, it was an uphill climb. To upgrade his mutation ability from Level 1 to Level 2, he would need 1,000 general experience points, a daunting amount. Yet, the benefits were undeniable. The earlier he grew stronger, the better his chances of survival. As he stood lost in thought, a voice behind him broke the silence. "Well done." Leonard stiffened, his body tensing instinctively. Then he recognized the voice and relaxed. Turning, he bowed slightly. "Teacher." Alfonso stepped out of the shadows, his expression neutral. "You handled yourself well for a beginner," he said, his tone calm. "But you''ve left loose ends." Leonard frowned. "Loose ends?" "The four who escaped will return with reinforcements. And the knight you killed..." Alfonso gestured toward the yard. "Did you notice the Phoenix Claw crest on his armor?" Leonard''s eyes widened. "The Duke of Phoenix Claw''s knight?" Alfonso nodded. "Knights under noble houses like his are registered. If one goes missing or dies, it won''t go unnoticed. You''ve drawn the attention of someone very dangerous, and you should know what nobles are like." Leonard swallowed hard, the memories of his past life and his experiences in this world merging into one bitter truth. Nobles were greedy, ruthless, and utterly indifferent to the suffering of those beneath them. The so-called "laws" of the kingdom were mere tools for the powerful, offering no protection to commoners. He remembered an incident from his hometown, a dark stain on his memory. The tailor''s daughter had been raped while gathering folk songs with a friend. When her father reported the crime, thugs ransacked their home that very night. The tailor vanished, and his wife and daughter were dragged to the red-light district. They were seen there briefly before taking their own lives. The "constitution" meant to protect them had been nothing more than an empty promise. Everyone in town knew who had assaulted the tailor''s daughter. It was no secret; it was the baron''s youngest son. Yet, despite the whispers and the outrage simmering beneath the surface, no one dared to act. The reason was simple: the baron''s family held the town in an iron grip. The chief of police? The baron''s brother-in-law. The mayor? His younger brother. And then there were the baron''s private guards; hundreds of them, armed to the teeth with muskets and patrolling the estates like hawks. In this town, the baron''s word was law. And if a baron could wield such unchecked power, what chance did the common people have against the layers of nobility above him? Viscounts, earls, marquises, dukes, princes; each one a parasite, feeding off the kingdom''s lifeblood. The laws, no matter how often rewritten, were nothing more than paper shields for those without power. The kingdom itself was a decaying body, riddled with these leeching aristocrats. Leonard''s thoughts were interrupted by the distant crack of gunfire echoing through the forest. His body tensed as he turned toward the sound, his eyes scanning the treeline. Moments later, a tall, shadowy figure emerged, weaving deftly through the woods with inhuman speed. The moonlight caught its silhouette, revealing something... unnatural. As it came closer, Leonard''s eyes widened in recognition. "David?" he whispered, almost disbelieving. Earlier that morning, David had been nothing more than an ordinary assistant in Alfonso''s laboratory. Now, under the moonlight, the transformation was unmistakable. The creature standing before him had sleek, metallic scales that shimmered like armor, and a hulking, muscular frame built for battle. It knelt on one knee, its reptilian eyes gleaming with obedience. "Master, everything has been resolved," the lizard man reported, its voice gravelly yet clear. Leonard stared, still processing what he was seeing. The lizard''s powerful form radiated strength. It wasn''t just a warrior; it was a weapon, forged in Alfonso''s laboratory. And what was most astonishing was the simplicity of its creation. Leonard had seen Alfonso working on the potion earlier that week. The process had been straightforward, the ingredients shockingly inexpensive. To mass-produce creatures like this... the thought sent a shiver down his spine. The power of wizards wasn''t just their spells or personal strength, it was their ability to reshape the world around them in ways that defied logic. "There''s no trouble for now," Alfonso''s voice broke through Leonard''s thoughts as he stepped into view, his tone calm yet firm. "But it won''t stay quiet here for long. You need to prepare to leave. Pack your things and go to the town. Buy a carriage and head south to Bangor Port." "Wait, what?" Leonard blurted, caught off guard. "Leave? Now?" Alfonso raised an eyebrow at his reaction. "The potion worked, didn''t it? You''ll need him." He gestured toward the lizard man. "I''ll give you the control spell for him. The magic traps on this house are disabled, so you''re free to move about. Now, go." Before Leonard could respond, Alfonso stepped closer, tapping him lightly on the forehead. A strange sensation spread between his brows, like an itch just beneath the skin. Leonard blinked, trying to focus. "Teacher¡ª" But he was already heading upstairs, hiz figure disappearing into the shadows. Closing his eyes, Leonard sank into his consciousness. The space within his mind felt vast, dark, and alive. In its center, seven earth rings rotated slowly, like celestial bodies in a miniature galaxy. Next to them floated a glowing blue rune, its intricate design pulsing softly. Leonard focused on it, and information flooded his mind. The rune was the control spell Alfonso had mentioned. It had two primary functions: ''forced prohibition'' and ''punishment''. The first could halt any action the controlled unit was performing, rendering them immobile. The second inflicted intense mental pain, adjustable in severity through a slider-like mechanism within the spell. A thin, translucent blue thread extended from the rune, connecting to something or someone, outside his consciousness. Leonard opened his eyes and followed the thread, his gaze landing on the lizard man kneeling in the moonlit yard. The line extended directly to the creature''s forehead, linking it to him like a puppet on invisible strings. Leonard stared at the lizard man, his mind buzzing with questions. "So this is what the teacher meant by ''control.'' he''s already trained him, prepared him to follow orders." The lizard man remained motionless, its gleaming scales catching the faint moonlight. It exuded raw power, a testament to Alfonso''s mastery. And now, with the control spell, Leonard realized it was entirely under his command. For a moment, he felt a flicker of unease. The creature, once a human, was now a weapon; obedient, unthinking, and terrifyingly efficient. Leonard tightened his grip on his staff, steeling himself. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "David," he called out, his voice steady. The lizard man raised its head slightly, awaiting orders. "We leave at dawn," Leonard said, determination hardening his tone. "There''s lot to do lets move." Chapter 8: Cleaning Up! Chapter 8: Cleaning Up!Leonard descended the creaky wooden stairs, opened the door, and stepped into the yard. The night air hit him, sharp and cold, laced with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid sting of acid. For a moment, he hesitated. After three months cooped up inside the house, the open space felt almost alien. But the grisly scene before him quickly grounded him in reality. Bodies lay strewn across the frost-covered ground, some disfigured by acid, others bearing wounds from musket fire. This was no dream, it was the aftermath of his actions. "Stand up," Leonard commanded, his voice steady. The lizard man, still kneeling nearby, obeyed immediately. It rose to its full height and approached Leonard with deliberate steps. Only now, standing close, did Leonard grasp its sheer size. At over two meters tall, the creature loomed over him, its muscular frame casting a shadow that seemed almost inhuman. As Leonard studied it, he noticed a charred mark on its chest, blackened and dusted with the remnants of gunpowder. The smell of burnt flesh mingled with the acrid stench in the air. Clearly, the musket shot had struck home, but the creature''s formidable body had shrugged it off. "Master," the lizard man said, bowing slightly. Its voice was deep and gravelly, but there was a surprising note of deference. Leonard raised an eyebrow, intrigued by its demeanor. He regarded the creature, once a man named David and mused silently. ''Fear alone isn''t enough to ensure loyalty. The control spell might instill terror, but it can''t inspire genuine obedience. There must be more to this.'' "Why didn''t you run?" Leonard finally asked, his tone measured. David hesitated before replying, his reptilian features betraying a trace of something human. "Master, where could I run in this form? What place would accept me now?" He let out a bitter chuckle. "Master Alfonso promised to provide for my wife if I cooperated with his experiments. I have nothing left but that promise." Leonard tilted his head, intrigued. "You came back for a promise? And yet you seem... oddly content." David nodded, glancing at his hands. "Before this, I was a baker. Years of kneading dough left me with lungs full of dust. I coughed constantly, and every breath felt like a struggle. But now..." He paused, flexing his clawed hands. "Now I feel stronger than ever. No more sickness, no more pain. If you allow it, I can still bake for you. My hands may have changed, but I haven''t forgotten how." The admission caught Leonard off guard. "A baker?" he murmured, more to himself than to David. Memories of his uncle surfaced, another baker who had worked himself to exhaustion, plagued by asthma and eczema from the constant exposure to flour. Leonard had seen firsthand the hardships of the profession. Late nights, early mornings, and endless toil for meager profits. He understood David''s resignation. ''As a lizard man, he could never return to the life he knew. The human world would reject him outright. His only option was to stay close to those who could protect him.'' Leonard nodded slowly. "Very well. For now, help me clean up this mess." David immediately got to work, his massive frame moving with surprising efficiency. Meanwhile, Leonard turned his attention to the scattered remains of the attackers. Judging by their uniforms, leather armor emblazoned with the imperial crest, they were likely town sheriffs from the nearby settlement. Each carried a standard-issue musket. One of the firearms caught Leonard''s eye. He bent down and picked it up, inspecting it closely. The musket was roughly 1.5 meters long and weighed a solid five kilograms. Its design was simple but functional, a percussion flintlock. Leonard tested its balance, frowning slightly. "Primitive," he thought. The weapon was a relic compared to the advanced firearms he remembered from his previous life. Still, at close range, it was lethal. A well-placed shot could kill instantly. But the flaws were apparent. Accuracy was abysmal at anything beyond short range, making the musket little more than a gamble in open combat. "Point, shoot, and hope for the best," Leonard mused with a wry smile. "Not exactly inspiring confidence." Leonard exhaled, his grip tightening on the musket. The night was far from over, and the quiet wouldn''t last. But for now, they were alive. And that was enough. Leonard carefully gathered all the flintlock rifles scattered on the ground, inspecting each one. The weapons were well-crafted and functional, hard currency in turbulent times. "If I sell these on the black market," he thought, "they''ll fetch a decent sum." Though the kingdom officially banned the sale of firearms, the reality was far different. Guns moved briskly in underground markets, especially now, with unrest brewing. Wealthy individuals, paranoid about their safety, would pay handsomely to arm themselves. Leonard slung two rifles over his shoulder, deciding to keep them for self-defense. Their crude but reliable design might come in handy if trouble found him again. He crouched and began searching the bodies more thoroughly. Around the waists of several fallen soldiers, he found a dozen small deerskin pouches. When he gently shook one, the contents rattled inside. Curious, he opened it. Inside were tightly wrapped paper cartridges, each one sealed with oil paper. Leonard opened one, revealing precisely packed gunpowder and a small lead bullet. He nodded in satisfaction. "Enough ammunition to keep these rifles useful for a while." As he continued his search, David approached, holding out a small brown leather bag. "Master," the lizard man said, his voice low but respectful. Leonard took the bag and shook it, hearing a delightful clinking sound. When he opened it, his eyes gleamed. Inside were silver coins, their polished surfaces catching the moonlight, and a handful of copper coins of varying sizes. At the center of each silver coin was an engraved figure of a woman, her hands folded in front of her. Leonard paused, glancing up at the moon. The resemblance between the engraving and the figure he saw on the moon was striking, about 70%. Pouring the coins out into his palm, he noticed something unexpected: a single gold coin among them. Gold coins were rarer and far more valuable than silver. Each king in the kingdom''s history had minted their own gold coins, with the quality and gold content varying widely depending on the kingdom''s wealth at the time. Counterfeit gold coins were common in some regions, but silver coins, by contrast, maintained a relatively standardized value and were the backbone of everyday trade. Leonard chuckled as a story about the kingdom''s currency came to mind. Decades ago, a notoriously stingy marquis had minted substandard silver coins so impure they turned black. When his deceit was discovered, his attempt to pass them off as wages for his knights and servants sparked outrage. The scandal didn''t end until the marquis conveniently "fell" from his horse during a hunt and became partially paralyzed. Shortly after, he abdicated in favor of his son and died under suspicious circumstances. The new marquis reissued proper wages and recalled the tarnished coins, restoring trust in the currency. Leonard pocketed the coins and stood, glancing at the remaining rifles. "Too many to carry," he muttered. "If only I had some kind of spatial storage item." David had finished clearing away most of the debris, stacking the remains of the broken weapons and armor. The yard, though still stained with blood and acid burns, was beginning to resemble something less chaotic. Leonard glanced at David, whose reptilian form stood silhouetted against the faint light from the house. "David," he called, his voice firm but not unkind. "Yes, Master?" David replied, turning to face him. "You''ve proven yourself useful. Keep it up, and there may be more for you than just survival." Leonard''s eyes narrowed slightly. "For now, let''s focus on staying alive. Bigger challenges are coming, and I expect you to be ready." Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. David bowed deeply. "As you command, Master." David remained quiet, watching him as he weighed his options. After a moment, Leonard nodded decisively. "We''re heading to town," he announced. David blinked but said nothing. His hulking reptilian form, however, was far from inconspicuous. Leonard frowned, his mind racing. "But you can''t walk around looking like this," he added. "We''ll need to cover you up." Leading David into the house, Leonard rummaged through one of the rooms until his eyes fell on the curtains. "Perfect." He tore them down and handed the fabric to David. "Wrap yourself in this," Leonard instructed. "It''s crude, but it''ll at least hide some of your... more noticeable features." David nodded and began draping the curtains over his scaled body, his sharp claws moving with surprising delicacy. As Leonard watched, he tightened the musket strap across his shoulder and adjusted the pouches of ammunition. The coins jingled lightly in his pocket. "This will work for now," he thought. "But we need to stay alert. The town might offer supplies and safety, but it''s also a risk." With David now partially disguised, Leonard gestured toward the door. "Let''s move. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it gets." The two stepped out into the night, the faint glow of the moon lighting their path toward the town, and the uncertain challenges waiting for them there. Chapter 9: Visiting The Town! Chapter 9: Visiting The Town!The curtains were ancient, stained with dust and riddled with holes from years of insect bites. Despite their sorry state, they served their purpose. David draped them over his massive frame, the fabric hanging awkwardly over his shoulders like a makeshift cloak. Two holes; one large, one small, aligned near his eyes, giving him an almost ghostly appearance as he trailed behind Leonard under the cover of night. From a distance, the town came into view, nestled at the foot of the mountain. Its medieval European-style architecture gave it a timeless charm, though its age was evident in the crumbling facades and weathered streets. Most of the buildings were half-timbered structures with stone bases, their peaked roofs casting jagged shadows under the faint moonlight. Scattered among them were smaller, humbler wooden huts with thatched roofs. The streets were paved with uneven bluestone slabs, though time and neglect had left many sections broken, with weeds sprouting through the gaps. At the town''s heart, the outline of a small castle loomed in the distance, a fortress-like manor that marked the home of the local noble family. As they drew closer, the distinct smell of cow and horse manure wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of damp wood. The recent gunfire had stirred the town''s residents; flickering candlelight illuminated the windows of houses on the outskirts, and shadowy figures moved cautiously behind curtains. Leonard navigated the streets with ease, knowing exactly where to go. He had been here before and knew this was the place to rent a carriage or to discreetly sell a musket if needed. Following the sound of chatter and the glow of light, they arrived at a street on the town''s south side. A large building stood out, its windows spilling warm light onto the street. Above the door hung a sign adorned with a Maple leaf and the silhouette of a carriage: the ''Maple leaf Inn''. Inns like this were staples of the kingdom. They served as havens for travelers, offering food, drink, and a place to sleep. Many also facilitated various trades, from renting carriages to acting as informal marketplaces for goods. Leonard pushed open the heavy wooden door, letting a rush of cold air sweep inside. The inn''s interior hit him with an overwhelming mix of smells, beer and ale, sweat, greasy food, cheap perfume, and the acrid scent of burning tallow candles. The stuffy air was almost suffocating but warmer than the chilly night outside. A small stove sat in the middle of the room, its faint crackle providing some heat to the shabby hall. Groups of three or four sat around wooden tables, drinking, talking, and occasionally breaking into loud laughter. Others leaned on benches, too drunk to remain upright. In one corner, a harried waiter was scrubbing vomit off the floor, cursing under his breath. As Leonard stepped inside, the noise dimmed. Heads turned toward him, then toward David, who ducked to fit through the doorway. The sight of the cloaked figure towering over Leonard brought a brief hush to the room. It wasn''t every day that a man over two meters tall, shrouded in tattered curtains, wandered into their midst. A waiter in a tidy, albeit simple, uniform approached hesitantly. "Good evening, sir. How can I assist you?" he asked, his polite tone tinged with nervousness as his eyes flicked toward David. "I need to speak with your boss," Leonard said curtly. The waiter nodded quickly. "One moment, please." He disappeared into the back, his pace brisk. Minutes later, a tall, thin man descended the stairs. He had a sharp mustache and an air of practiced charm. His tailored coat and deliberate movements suggested he was the innkeeper. His gaze lingered on David for a moment before shifting to Leonard. "Please, follow me," he said, gesturing toward the stairs. Leonard followed him up a narrow wooden staircase to a room at the end of the hall. The room, positioned near a window, offered a faint view of the town square below. The innkeeper closed the door behind them and turned, his expression calm but calculating. "What can I do for you, traveler?" the man asked smoothly. Leonard met his gaze. "I need to buy a carriage. I''m heading to Bangor Port." Leonard still wore the same clothes he had on when he fled his old life, worn, travel-stained, and utterly unremarkable. To most, he might appear like any other wandering traveler, but the innkeeper, Ted, was not most people. A seasoned man who had spent his youth traveling across the country and meeting all kinds of characters, Ted had a knack for reading people. Leonard''s demeanor didn''t raise much suspicion, but the towering figure behind him, draped in what looked like patchwork curtains; was a different matter. Ted couldn''t quite figure him out. The man radiated a quiet, dangerous energy, like a coiled spring ready to snap. Still, Ted dismissed the odd outfit as some kind of exotic fashion. "Who am I to judge," he thought, "when travelers bring in styles from all corners of the kingdom?" "Our inn does provide carriage rental services," Ted began, his voice smooth and professional. "We''re an official member of the Hotel Union, partnered with many inns nationwide to ensure safe and reliable transport. However, if you don''t travel by carriage often, purchasing one outright might not be the best choice." He leaned forward slightly, as though sharing a friendly tip. "While a carriage itself isn''t terribly expensive, maintaining it can be a hassle. You''ll need to provide hay, grain, coarse salt for the horses, and hire a coachman. On top of that, the daily upkeep costs about one silver coin per day." S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard frowned slightly, weighing the logistics. Owning a carriage sounded more like a headache than a solution. He''d need to hire someone to drive it, find stables to house the horses, and handle all the associated costs. Considering his destination; Bangor Port; it didn''t seem worth the trouble. Once there, he had no plans to travel further. "How much does it cost to rent a carriage?" Leonard asked, his tone even. "That depends on what kind of arrangement you''re looking for," Ted replied, his salesman instincts kicking in. "If you''re in a hurry, you can charter a private carriage. If not, you could opt for a carpool, shared rides are cheaper, as the fee is split among passengers. If the group is small, the carpool rate can be quite favorable. Of course, chartering your own carriage is more expensive." "Charter a carriage," Leonard said decisively. His voice left no room for negotiation. Ted''s eyebrows raised slightly but he quickly masked his surprise. "A man who knows what he wants," he thought. "Very well," he said aloud. "We offer two types of private charters. One option is self-supported, where you provide your own food and accommodations along the way. It''s the more affordable option. "The other is our all-inclusive service, where the inn handles everything; meals, lodging, and guaranteed accommodations at partner inns along the route. Both options are priced per distance: 8 silver coins per 100 miles on flat roads, 12 silver coins per 100 miles on mountain roads. If you choose the all-inclusive package, it''s an additional 1 silver coin per day for food and lodging." Ted smiled, sensing he had Leonard''s attention. "And don''t worry, our carriages are equipped with meter drums. For long trips, the driver will beat the drum every ten miles, so you can easily keep track of the distance. If the remaining distance is less than ten miles, we don''t charge for it. Consider it a little bonus." He leaned back, confident now. "Long-distance trips like this are rare in a small town like ours. Most people only rent carriages for short distances, usually in emergencies. For farmers or laborers, even a short journey could cost a small fortune." Leonard nodded, mentally calculating the cost. Bangor Port was at least 700 to 800 miles away. He didn''t know the exact ratio of mountain roads to flat terrain, but based on Ted''s pricing, the journey would likely cost close to 100 silver coins. That was a significant sum. One silver coin alone was worth twenty copper coins, enough to feed an ordinary family for days. As Leonard silently deliberated, Ted seized the opportunity. "You''re in luck, sir," he said, his tone warm. "We happen to have a carriage available right now. If you''re ready, you can set off immediately." Leonard looked up, meeting Ted''s gaze. The decision was made. "We''ll take it," he said calmly, his voice steady despite the weight of the expense. Ted grinned, clearly pleased. "Excellent choice. I''ll make the arrangements right away." "Pick us up on the main road outside of town tomorrow morning," Leonard instructed, his tone calm but firm. Ted nodded, his practiced hospitality on display. "Might I confirm the destination of your travel, sir?" "Bangor Port," Leonard replied. Ted''s brow lifted slightly, calculating the distance. "Bangor Port is about 760 miles from here. You''ll need to pass through the Sage Flitwick Mountains, which adds to the challenge. Including meals and accommodations, the journey will take roughly 13 to 15 days; assuming no unforeseen incidents." He paused, letting the weight of the journey settle before continuing. "The total price is 92 silver coins. What do you think?" Leonard nodded thoughtfully, showing no sign of surprise. Ted continued, "For first-time customers, we require a 60% deposit up front, which in your case will add up to 55 silver coins. Regulars, of course, are exempt from this." Leonard remained unfazed. "I have another matter to discuss with you," he said, gesturing to David. David stepped forward, clutching a bundle wrapped tightly in sackcloth. With careful precision, he placed it on the table, the sound of its contents hitting the wood echoing softly. Ted''s eyes flickered with curiosity as he glanced at the bundle, then back at Leonard. After a brief hesitation, he reached out and peeled back the sackcloth, revealing six muskets neatly stacked. His gaze lingered on the weapons, and for a moment, a glimmer of both interest and caution flashed across his face. Ted looked up, his expression guarded. "Six muskets... impressive," he said, his voice neutral but his mind clearly racing. He knew what this meant. Muskets weren''t just rare, they were highly regulated, controlled by nobility or law enforcement. To have this many at once was no small feat. In this small, remote town, there were only two possible sources of such a stockpile: Baron Badwa or the town''s police force. But Ted didn''t press the issue. Whether Leonard had come to sell them directly or brought them from elsewhere, he had no intention of prying too deeply. "Firearms like these can fetch a fair price," Ted admitted. "But they aren''t as valuable as you might think. While they''re tightly controlled, they''re not difficult to produce, and the materials are relatively common. After all, they''re standard issue for the military." Ted leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "I can offer 40 silver coins per musket," he said, watching Leonard''s reaction closely. When Leonard didn''t seem impressed, he quickly added, "That''s already a generous offer. Finding buyers for something like this isn''t easy, and if I can''t sell them, they''re a loss for me." Leonard considered the offer for a moment before giving a curt nod. "Fine. All six for 40 apiece. Deduct part of it for the carriage, and pay me the rest." Ted smiled, his relief barely concealed. "Of course, sir. Please wait here. I''ll fetch the payment." As Ted left the room, David''s reptilian gaze followed him until the door closed. Turning to Leonard, he leaned in and spoke in a low voice. "Master, do you think he''ll report us?" Leonard''s lips curled into a faint smile. "I don''t know. But he won''t act until he''s certain of who we are or who''s backing us." David tilted his head, still uncertain. "Why wouldn''t he just take the risk?" "Because smart people weigh their options," Leonard replied. "Ted is a businessman. He knows better than to offend someone powerful without knowing what he''s up against. He''ll think twice before stirring the pot." Leonard leaned back, his voice calm but firm. "By the time he figures anything out, we''ll already be gone. And even if someone does decide to pursue us, it won''t matter. The town''s defenses are weak, and their resources are stretched thin. They''d be foolish to come after me and my teacher." David nodded slowly, reassured by the confidence in Leonard''s voice. "Besides," Leonard added with a smirk, "if trouble does come, it won''t be my problem to solve. That''s what the teacher''s for. He''s the powerful wizard. When things get messy, I''ll just stay back and cheer him on." David blinked, confused. "Cheer him on?" "Exactly," Leonard said with a chuckle. "When the fighting starts, he''ll be upfront handling everything, and I''ll just be in the back shouting ''666.''" David stared at him for a moment, then let out a low laugh. Despite the tense circumstances, Leonard''s confidence was infectious. Chapter 10: Packing Up! Chapter 10: Packing Up!Stepping out of the Red Leaf Hotel, Leonard clutched a deerskin bag in his hand. The bag swayed gently, filled with the clinking weight of 185 silver coins. A portion, fifty-five coins, had already been paid as a deposit, and another thirty-seven would be handed over upon reaching their destination. Six muskets had been sold, leaving ten still in stock. Each musket fetched forty silver coins, a "hefty sum" for common folk; four hundred silver coins in total. For the nobility or wealthy merchants, however, this was a trifling amount, easily spent on a single lavish dinner. Back at the mountain, Leonard made arrangements for David, setting her up in a room. He then returned to his quarters to pack, though there wasn''t much to gather, just a few pieces of clothing, a black bundle containing a purse, and some essentials. As the candlelight flickered in his room, Leonard opened the diary that his teacher, Alfonso, had given him. The book was a treasure trove of knowledge, particularly about mutation studies. A progress bar at the end of the book showed his learning advancement, currently stuck at 2%. Leonard realized he hadn''t yet absorbed enough to nudge it forward to 3%, but the idea of tracking his progress made the learning process oddly satisfying, even exciting. After studying for a while, he extinguished the candle, lay on his bed, and let exhaustion take over. The day had been long, filled with tasks in town and late-night reading. The next morning, Leonard rose early to prepare breakfast. While stirring a pot of soup, he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw his teacher, Alfonso, already awake. Alfonso looked well-rested, and Leonard greeted him. The teacher responded with a brief nod before disappearing down the corridor where materials were stored. Moments later, a sharp scream pierced the air. Leonard''s hand froze mid-stir, trembling slightly. In the corner, David stood with his head bowed, his tail swaying nervously, fear written across his features. Taking a deep breath, Leonard steeled himself and returned to his task. He had emptied the kitchen''s supplies into the pot that morning, preparing a hearty meal, what he had imagined as the prisoners'' last indulgence. Now, it felt like a futile gesture. Alfonso soon returned, faint traces of blood lingering in the air around him. "The carriage is ready," Leonard informed him, voice steady despite the tension. "It''s waiting on the main road, just past the foot of the mountain." Alfonso nodded, his demeanor unshaken. "I also spoke with the hotel owner," Leonard continued. "They''ll prepare provisions for the journey. I paid extra to ensure the food would be of better quality." "Handle it as you see fit," Alfonso replied, his tone indifferent. He seemed utterly unconcerned with such details. Leonard silently accepted his teacher''s disinterest, knowing there were some matters he could never question. After breakfast, Leonard stepped into the laboratory and immediately noticed that all the experimental equipment was gone. Alfonso stood nearby, dressed in a simple yet elegant black cape with gold-thread trim over a long-sleeved black velvet satin shirt. His appearance was pristine, with no sign of carrying anything bulky. Leonard knew why, his teacher had a space device, a clever tool that must have already stored the lab''s instruments. As Leonard moved into the corridor, he glanced toward its dimly lit depths. The silence was heavy, and every door in the hallway stood ajar. A faint metallic smell lingered in the air, a trace of blood. His gaze lingered on the innermost room, its door also wide open. Yet when Alfonso had emerged earlier, no one had been with him. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. A cold shiver ran down Leonard''s spine. Alfonso saw human lives as mere numbers; disposable and insignificant. Turning away from the unsettling corridor, Leonard headed back to the kitchen, where David crouched on the ground. "Don''t let this food go to waste," Leonard said. David, balancing himself on a long, thick, scaly tail, nodded. The tail, extending from his back and firmly planted on the floor, acted like both a support and a seat. Leonard began ladling the soup and porridge from a large bucket into a bowl. David eagerly grabbed it, gulping everything down in one go before licking the soup off the corners of his mouth with a dark green tongue. Watching David''s enthusiasm, Leonard paused, realizing it was inefficient to serve him one bowl at a time. "Just take the bucket," he said, handing it over. David initially used a spoon but soon gave up, tilting the bucket to drink directly. The food poured down his throat as his neck swelled grotesquely, almost doubling in size. It was clear that as a lizardman, David''s body and his appetite; had undergone drastic changes. "The master''s cooking skills are amazing," David said, patting his slightly rounded stomach with satisfaction. A notification flickered at the corner of Leonard''s vision: "Daily Task Completed: Cooking (I). Cook a complete pot of food. Completion Level: Pass. Reward: 5 General Experience Points." Leonard nodded, unfazed. "As long as you can eat it." But as he observed David, a troubling thought crossed his mind. This lizardman''s appetite seemed boundless; was he turning into a glutton? Along the way, would the food Ted prepared even be enough for him? Then again, cold-blooded creatures like lizards were known for their ability to endure hunger. Perhaps David had inherited this trait. Leonard''s musings were interrupted when Alfonso emerged from the basement. His teacher appeared calm and composed, as if the events of the morning hadn''t left the faintest mark on him. Leonard turned his attention back to the kitchen, considering what to bring along. After scanning the room repeatedly, he realized there wasn''t much of value to pack. The belongings left behind felt trivial, insignificant; just like the lives Alfonso so easily dismissed. When you move to a new place, buying a few fresh things is easy enough. After finishing his tasks, Leonard decided to take one last look at the area where the magic potions were cultivated. He quickly noticed that the magical purple phoenix flowers grown there had already been taken by his teacher. It seemed Alfonso had also taken any other valuable magical items. "Let''s go," Leonard said, turning toward the corridor. David followed closely behind him. Suddenly, David''s hand shot out, gripping Leonard''s shoulder. "Master, be careful," David said, his voice low and tense. "I feel like something''s watching us." Leonard froze, narrowing his eyes as he scanned their surroundings. The corridor was deathly quiet. The spiral staircase loomed ahead, dimly lit by flickering wall-mounted candles. Everything seemed normal; at first. Then he saw it. The candlelight cast orange beams across the walls, creating sharp contrasts of light and shadow. But in one corner, the shadows looked wrong. They were too large, too solid, almost as if something invisible was blocking the light. Something huge. A chill ran down Leonard''s spine. His breath caught as he realized what it meant. The shadow began to shift. From the corner of the wall, the dark mass moved, sliding across the surface like a living thing. Slowly, it began to expand, creeping forward and swallowing the corridor in its oppressive darkness. Behind him, David trembled, his usual bravado shaken. But after a moment, he gritted his teeth and stepped forward. "Master, when I say go, you run," he said, his voice firm despite the fear. Leonard shook his head. "There''s no need." He had a good idea of what it was. As he watched, the dark gray tiles of the wall began to twist and distort. The air shimmered as something enormous materialized before his eyes, a massive head emerging from the void. It had an orange-yellow eye the size of a clenched fist, crisscrossed with intricate black veins. The vertical pupil in its center was sharp and menacing, fixed intently on Leonard. Its translucent scales shifted colors like a living kaleidoscope, blending seamlessly with its surroundings. A deep red core pulsed in and out near its throat, as if it were trying to catch Leonard''s scent. The creature stared for what felt like an eternity, its gaze piercing and unblinking. Then, slowly, it began to withdraw. Its enormous head pulled back into the shadows, and its scales melted into the corridor''s colors until it vanished entirely. The unnatural shadow disappeared from the wall, and the flickering light returned to normal. David exhaled shakily. "What... what was that? It''s a monster," he stammered, his scaly tail twitching behind him. Leonard glanced at him, his lips twitching in mild amusement despite the tension. "David," he said, "if you''re going to call it a monster, could you not wag your tail so enthusiastically while doing it?" Chapter 11: Journey! Chapter 11: Journey!When Leonard reached the yard, Alfonso, cloaked in black, was already standing at the main gate. Without a word, he began descending the mountain, his steps silent and purposeful. Leonard followed close behind, while David, wrapped in a large curtain-like cape, brought up the rear. At the bottom of the dry dirt path, a black carriage waited quietly. Two bridled horses stood in front, their breath visible in the crisp air. The carriage itself was modest, with four sturdy wheels and a luggage rack mounted on top. An old man sat on a wooden seat beside the carriage, puffing on a pipe, the smoke curling lazily into the sky. His weathered face and relaxed demeanor gave him an air of quiet confidence. Leonard approached, handing the man a certificate Ted had given him the previous day. After a brief glance for verification, the old man nodded. Leonard gestured for Alfonso to board the carriage first. The horses remained calm as Leonard and Alfonso approached, but when David drew near, their demeanor changed. The animals shifted uneasily, letting out nervous whinnies, their ears twitching in agitation. David stepped toward the carriage, ready to board, but Leonard hesitated. The small interior, barely enough for two, would be suffocating with David''s bulk inside. Alfonso glanced at him, his expression calm but firm. "You don''t need to ride with us," Alfonso said. "Follow behind." David blinked, then nodded. "Understood, Master." He stepped aside obediently, standing at the edge of the road. The old coachman, perched on his seat, watched silently. A seasoned traveler, he knew when to keep questions to himself. Years of experience had taught him that survival often depended on discretion. He understood the unspoken rules of the road: don''t ask about things you don''t want answers to. Once Alfonso and Leonard were settled inside, the coachman tipped his hat. "Good day, sirs. Name''s Kenneth; most folks call me Kenny. I''ve been driving carriages for over 30 years and know these roads like the back of my hand. Bangor Port''s no trouble. If all goes well, we''ll be there in fourteen days." He reached down and pulled open a hidden compartment beneath the seat, revealing neatly stored provisions. "Here''s your food: soft bread, truffle juice, and fresh milk. If you''re hungry or thirsty, just let me know." Leonard gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Kenny." Kenneth nodded. "Blankets and pillows are also in the carriage. I hope you have a pleasant journey." With practiced ease, he snapped the reins, and the horses began to move. The carriage jolted slightly as it started down the road, but Kenny''s skill quickly became evident. Though the dirt path was uneven, he expertly avoided the worst bumps, maintaining a steady pace. The ride was remarkably smooth for the rough terrain, neither too fast nor too slow, just enough to keep motion sickness at bay. Inside the carriage, Leonard''s attention was drawn to a peculiar contraption mounted on the roof: a small drum with visible gears. Through its hollow frame, he could see the mechanism turning with the movement of the carriage. Two small hammers rested beside the drum, poised as if ready to strike. "Does it hit the drum every ten miles?" Leonard wondered, his curiosity piqued. The device, simple yet intriguing, added a touch of novelty to the otherwise quiet journey. Sitting in the carriage, Leonard glanced at Alfonso beside him. His teacher had his eyes closed, seemingly lost in meditation. ''Meditating in a moving carriage?'' Leonard found the idea hard to believe, but curiosity got the better of him. He decided to give it a try. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his mind, attempting to enter the meditative state. Just as he started to focus, the carriage hit a bump, jarring him out of his concentration. Frustrated but determined, he tried again, only for the same thing to happen. After several failed attempts, Leonard sighed in defeat. Meditation on a bumpy ride was clearly not his forte. Resigning himself to the limitations of the road, he pulled out the notebook Alfonso had given him and began reading instead. Though there were no specific tasks for him to complete during the journey, Leonard was content to immerse himself in study. The quiet carriage filled only with the soft sound of pages turning, and the hours passed uneventfully as dusk crept closer. Kenny''s voice broke the silence. "Sir, there''s a village three or four miles ahead. If you''d like, we could stop there for the night. I know some of the farmers; it''s a good spot to rest." Leonard glanced at Alfonso, who remained still and unresponsive. He understood that the decision was his to make. "Alright, let''s stay in the village overnight." "Very well, sir!" Kenny replied, steering the carriage onward. As they approached, the village came into view; a small settlement with houses scattered loosely along a dirt road. Beyond the village, golden wheat fields stretched across the plains. The peaceful scenery was soon interrupted by the sound of barking dogs, signaling the arrival of strangers. Kenny stopped the carriage in front of a farmhouse bordered by a wooden fence. In the yard, a large brown-and-yellow dog with curly fur barked fiercely, its voice echoing through the quiet evening. The noise roused the owner of the house. "Who''s out there?" came a voice from inside. The dog, clearly well-trained, rarely barked at villagers. Its aggressive barking meant only one thing; outsiders had arrived. "Hey, Don Quixote! It''s me, Kenny!" the coachman called out, leaning on the fence. "Kenny?" the man inside muttered. "I should''ve known. The old chain-smoker himself. I bet you smell so much of tobacco even Sweet Potato can''t recognize you." Soon, the door creaked open, and a tall, sturdy man with brown curly hair stepped out. He surveyed the visitors and broke into a grin when he recognized Kenny. "Ah, it ''is'' you!" he said, opening the gate to welcome them. Don Quixote, as he was called, was familiar with Kenny''s habits. The coachman often brought guests to stay overnight at the farmhouse, paying a fee for the hospitality and sometimes buying supplies. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Reassured by the familiarity, Don Quixote stepped aside to let them in. "Come on in, Kenny. And don''t worry, Sweet Potato won''t bite; unless you''ve got more tobacco hidden in your coat!" "Just one guest?" Don Quixote asked, his gaze settling on Leonard, who appeared unusually young. "There''s one more, making two in total," Kenny replied. "Alright then. I''ll get things ready. It just so happens there are two empty rooms in the house," Don Quixote said, heading inside to tidy up. After everything was confirmed, Kenny drove the carriage around to the stable behind Don Quixote''s house and parked it there for the night. Leonard and Alfonso were each given a room, while Kenny opted to sleep in the carriage. As Don Quixote closed the doors for his guests, he couldn''t help but wonder about their identities. They seemed like a father and son at first glance, though the older man''s cloak and mysterious air hinted at something else, he resembled the wizards often described in bardic tales. Don Quixote shook his head, laughing at his own imagination. S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Still, times were tough in the north. The weather had been unseasonably hot, and the harvest had suffered. Refugees had started arriving in the area, fleeing from rumors of war. Perhaps these two were escaping from the same turmoil. --- That night, Leonard sat cross-legged on the bed, meditating. Outside, the quiet night carried the sound of rustling grass. Something moved through the dense undergrowth, parting it like water, its shape obscured in the darkness. All that could be seen was a massive black shadow running swiftly across the wild expanse, pursued by a tall, human-like figure. The chase stopped just outside the farmhouse. In the yard, the big curly-haired dog that had barked so ferociously earlier now cowered, its tail tucked firmly between its legs. Its fur bristled, and a pitiful whimper escaped its throat. ''Creak, creak!'' The wooden fence groaned under an immense weight. The trembling dog collapsed to the ground, its body quaking. A foul smell wafted into the air as yellow liquid seeped from its hind legs. Above it loomed a massive, scaly head, as large as a water tank, with sharp, menacing features. The creature leaned closer, its dark red core pulsating as it sniffed and licked at the dog''s head. The dog whimpered one final time before fainting. --- Leonard''s meditation was abruptly interrupted by a sudden wave of unease. A cold sensation prickled at his spine as though something dangerous was watching him. He recalled a note in Alfonso''s teachings: during meditation, a wizard''s senses sharpened, sometimes allowing them to perceive impending danger. Divination wizards even relied on this state for their craft. Was Don Quixote planning something sinister? Leonard snapped out of his meditation, his hand instinctively moving to the wand he kept near his pillow. Gripping it tightly, he scanned the room. Then he saw it. The faint moonlight filtering through the window was nearly blotted out by a massive shape outside. A huge gray lizard''s head loomed, its orange eyes glowing unnaturally bright in the dim night. Before Leonard could react, the creature spoke in a voice that sent chills through his bones. "Leonard?" it said, the words unmistakably human. Chapter 12: Stange Call at Night! Chapter 12: Stange Call at Night!The voice was guttural, incomprehensible, and carried an eerie, bone-chilling cadence, yet Leonard had no doubt; it had called his name. Startled, Leonard bolted upright from the bed. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, but he forced himself to listen. "Leo... nard," the voice croaked again, unmistakably pronouncing his name. Leonard turned toward the window, his expression a mix of shock and grim determination. There, clinging to the outside, was the creature, a monstrous lizard-like figure with scales that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Its lips parted slowly, revealing a grotesque semblance of a grin. Silent laughter radiated from its expression, yet there was something disturbingly familiar about it. Leonard couldn''t shake the impression that the creature was displaying an emotion; happiness. The kind of glee a child might show upon discovering a new toy. S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Leo... nard," it repeated, the sound growing softer but more insistent. The creature seemed to savor the name, calling it again and again. "Leo... nard." "Leo... nard." The repetition was hypnotic, almost ritualistic, and the sound clawed at Leonard''s nerves. The lizard''s elongated body remained eerily still, save for the subtle movements of its throat as it articulated the name. Then, suddenly, the lizard froze. Its slitted pupils contracted sharply, like a camera lens adjusting to sudden light. A faint creak from the next room pierced the silence; the sound of a window being opened. Leonard barely had time to process what was happening before the creature darted away, its head disappearing into the darkness with a speed that was unnatural, almost surreal. For a moment, all Leonard could hear was the faint scrape of claws against wood, growing fainter by the second. He rushed to the window, his breath visible in the cold air, and peered outside. The yard was silent, shrouded in darkness. There was no trace of the creature. But the sound of the window opening had come from the teacher''s room next door. Leonard''s gaze lingered, and a thought crept into his mind. ''It''s afraid of Alfonso.'' Could that enormous, spectral lizard be one of Alfonso''s creations? A monster raised by the teacher? Leonard''s mind raced as he recalled his notes. It was not uncommon for wizards to keep strange creatures as pets or experimental subjects. Many created alchemical constructs or enslaved beings from other races to aid in their research. Such creatures often served dual purposes: assistants in dangerous experiments or raw materials for future endeavors. The lizard potion that had caused David''s grotesque transformation; it might have originated from this creature. --- The next morning, Leonard was startled awake by the sound of commotion outside. "Dad! Come quick! Look at the wall!" a boy''s voice rang out, filled with excitement and fear. This was followed by a deeper voice exclaiming in disbelief. "What in heaven''s name¡ª?" Leonard sat up, still groggy. He quickly dressed, pulling on his coat and boots before heading downstairs. The faint aroma of milk and baked bread filled the air as he passed the kitchen. A plump woman in a red dress bustled by, carrying a steaming cup of milk. "Good morning, guest," she said, her tone polite but hurried. Outside, the morning sunlight revealed the source of the commotion. In the yard stood a man and a boy, both staring at the outer wall of the farmhouse. Leonard stepped closer and followed their gaze. The wall was marred with deep, jagged claw marks. The gouges were uneven but unmistakably the work of a large creature. They stretched across the surface like the tracks of a wild beast. The man, whom Leonard now saw more clearly in the daylight, had curly brown hair and wore a light yellow turtleneck under a tailored jacket, paired with slim jeans and sturdy boots. His son, a freckle-faced boy of about twelve, stood beside him, his strong frame tense with curiosity and fear. Leonard felt a cold dread creep over him. He recognized the pattern of the marks immediately. The man, Don Quixote, spoke up, his voice wary. "No wonder Sweet Potato''s acting strange. The poor dog won''t leave the kennel this morning, no matter how much I call." His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced at Leonard. "This... thing," Don Quixote said cautiously, gesturing at the claw marks, "showed up after you and your companion stayed the night." Though his tone remained polite, Leonard sensed an underlying suspicion. Don Quixote didn''t explicitly accuse him, but the message was clear: the guests were unwelcome now. He was already planning their departure. Not far away, the stable door creaked open. Don Quixote reemerged moments later with a plate of fresh bread and milk. He carried it with a calm air, as though trying to maintain normalcy despite the unsettling events. "Kenny," he called, addressing the man in the stale; in the stable, "have some breakfast." Kenny rubbed his eyes wearily, his movements slow as the morning chill still clung to his body. '' wrapped the blanket tighter around his shoulders, eyeing Don Quixote as he set the plate of bread and milk before him. "Why are you so generous today, Grandet?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion. Despite his curiosity, he didn''t hesitate to take a sip of the warm milk. The heat coursed through his, offering a moment of comfort after the long, cold night spent in the carriage. Don Quixote didn''t answer immediately, his face marked with an uncharacteristic tension. "What''s the story with those two guests?" he asked at last, his voice huhed, as though afraid of being overheard. Kenny raised an eyebrow, tearing off a piece of bread with deliberate slowness. "You know as well as I do," he replied, his words muffled as he chewed, "in my line of work, the golden rule is never to pry into a guest''s background." He caught the way his brows furrowed deeper and the way he turned away, clearly lost in thought. His silence spoke volumes, and though Kenny had his own suspicions, he said nothing. It wasn''t his place, and truth be told, he didn''t want to know. How could anyone ignore the peculiarities of these travelers? The tall one dressed like a walking patchwork curtain had unsettled even the horses. Lily and jenny, his trusted companions for nearly a decade, had whinnied and stomped nervously the moment he approached. They had seen their fair share of rough men, but never had they reacted so violently. Still, Kenny reminded himself, ''it''s not my business.'' He was just a coachwoman trying to earn a living. His job was simple: get them to Bangor Harbor. No questions, no meddling. That was how one stayed alive in a world as unpredictable as this. --- After breakfast, Leonard prepared to leave, packing his meager belongings with practiced efficiency. Just as he stepped outside, a small voice called from behind him. "Hey! Are you a guest from far away?" Leonard turned to find a boy standing there, no older than twelve. Freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, and his wide eyes sparkled with curiosity as they locked onto Leonard. Leonard smiled gently, crouching slightly to meet the boy''s gaze. "I suppose you could say that," he replied. "I''ve traveled quite a distance." The boy''s excitement grew. "Can you tell me about your home? What''s it like there?" Leonard''s smile faltered for a moment. Home. What was there to say? He could barely remember it; plague, war, and famine had consumed it not long after he''d arrived in this world. The memories he did have were clouded with hardship and loss. "Honestly," he began after a pause, "it''s not so different from here. The people, the houses; they''re much the same. The only real difference is the way we talk. Our dialect is a little different." "Oh," the boy said, clearly disappointed. The light in his eyes dimmed, but Leonard wasn''t done. "However," he added, a playful glint in his eye, "I did see something incredible on my journey." The boy perked up immediately, his enthusiasm returning. "What was it?" Leonard leaned in slightly, his tone dropping as if he were sharing a secret. "There was this one village I passed through. A plague had swept through it, leaving no one alive. Some of the travelers I was with wanted to search the abandoned houses for food and shelter. But that night, something terrible happened." The boy''s eyes widened, and he leaned forward eagerly, hanging on Leonard''s every word. "Monsters came from the mountains," Leonard continued, his voice low and steady. "Huge, grotesque things stitched together from pieces of corpses. They had five heads, ten hands, and bodies as round as barrels. Their skin was patched with stitches, like they''d been sewn together by a madman." The boy swallowed hard, his freckles paling. He looked both terrified and utterly captivated. "They moved silently at first," Leonard said, adding a dramatic pause. "But then, the screeching started; an unholy noise that shook the ground. We barely escaped." The boy''s jaw hung open, his breathing shallow. Leonard couldn''t hold back his laughter any longer. "Haha! Relax," he said, patting the boy''s shoulder. "I''m only joking. It wasn''t that scary." The boy''s cheeks flushed red, and he let out a shaky laugh, though his hands still trembled. "You scared me! I thought that was real!" Leonard grinned. "It wasn''t as bad as five heads and ten hands, no. Just three heads and five hands." The boy froze, his laughter vanishing in an instant. His wide eyes filled with renewed horror, and Leonard couldn''t suppress another chuckle. "Don''t worry, kid," he said, ruffling the boy''s hair. "Stick close to your father, and you''ll be just fine." The boy didn''t look convinced, but he managed a small nod. As Leonard turned to leave, he couldn''t help but smile to himself. ''Sometimes, a little mystery was the best way to keep life interesting.'' Chapter 13: Memory of the Past! Chapter 13: Memory of the Past!"Alright, goodbye, young man," Leonard said, smiling faintly as he waved to the boy. The boy, though still visibly shaken from Leonard''s tale, mustered a timid smile and raised his hand in return. "Goodbye, sir," he said, his voice a little unsteady. Outside the yard, Kenny was already atop her carriage, reins in hand. The horses snorted softly, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. Teacher Alfonso descended the stairs with his usual calm demeanor, stepping into the waiting carriage without a word. Leonard followed shortly after, settling into the seat beside him. The journey south resumed with the steady rhythm of hoofbeats on the dirt road. As the carriage rolled forward, Leonard leaned back, his thoughts drifting to the story he had shared with the boy. Though he had played it off as a tall tale, the events he described were, in fact, true. --- The memory was vivid. It had been during his own journey south, in those uncertain days when the line between reality and nightmare often blurred. He had encountered beings that defied all logic; grotesque, patchwork creatures that seemed to crawl out of the darkest corners of folklore. One, in particular, stood out: a monster with three heads and five hands. It had a misshapen, grotesque form, as though it were the discarded plaything of a deranged child. A second head jutted awkwardly from its neck, while a woman''s face, pale and lifeless, hung from its chest like a macabre ornament. Its arms grew haphazardly from its torso, each one ending in clawed fingers that twitched unnaturally. Despite its terrifying appearance, the creature''s strength was only marginally greater than that of a strong man. Its most notable ability was its resilience, it could take a beating and still keep moving. But the psychological fear it instilled far outweighed its actual combat prowess. The refugees with Leonard had been paralyzed with terror. No one dared to attack the monster, their fear compounded by superstitions. An old man among them muttered incessantly, warning that the creature must have been the work of a witch. To harm it, he said, would invite her curse. In the end, a group of braver souls managed to drive the creature away with crude weapons; long sticks and rocks hurled from a safe distance. Shortly after, a group of knights arrived on horseback, armed with spears and short swords. They swiftly dispatched the remaining monsters with brutal efficiency. But the knights, who served a local lord, proved to be no saviors. Arrogant and predatory, they claimed several of the young women among the refugees as their spoils, taking them away without care for the tears and protests of their families. Leonard had been lucky that day. His father, with quick thinking and desperation born of experience, had instructed his sister to smear her face with dirt and hide beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Adults in their group had formed a protective circle around her, obscuring her from view. The memory lingered, bittersweet. Leonard''s thoughts turned to his family. Were they safe? Had they made it to Bangor Harbor as planned? He stared out the window, his gaze fixed on the southern horizon. That was where they had promised to reunite. Three months was enough time for them to have reached the port, found work, and perhaps even secured a place to live. The thought of surprising them brought a faint smile to his face. Bangor Harbor. The wealthiest and most advanced city in the kingdom. It was the beating heart of trade, its markets filled with goods from every corner of the world. Yet Leonard knew that such prosperity always came at a cost. For the rich, it was a playground of decadence and power. For the poor, it was a place to scrape by, surviving on whatever crumbs fell from the tables of the wealthy. And survival was enough for Leonard. Wealth and grandeur were dreams for others. He only needed food, shelter, and the hope of a better life. --- The steady rhythm of the horses'' hooves provided a soothing backdrop as the carriage pressed on. Leonard sat by the window, glancing occasionally at Alfonso, who sat with his eyes closed, deep in meditation. His teacher''s discipline was remarkable. If Alfonso wasn''t conducting experiments, he was meditating or studying, always sharpening his mind and powers. "Teacher," Leonard ventured after a moment, breaking the silence, "you haven''t eaten yet. I saved this for you." He reached into his coat and pulled out a piece of bread, holding it out respectfully. Without opening his eyes, Alfonso replied in his usual indifferent tone, "I''m not hungry." Leonard nodded and withdrew the bread. He knew better than to press. Alfonso was not one to repeat himself. Tucking the bread back into his coat, Leonard retrieved his alchemy diary. The pages were filled with notes, theories, and diagrams, and he began reading with quiet enthusiasm. Every word felt like a puzzle piece, slowly unlocking the mysteries of the world around him. The carriage continued southward, the crisp morning air giving way to the warmth of the rising sun. For now, the journey was quiet, but Leonard knew that danger often lurked just beyond the horizon. Alfonso, who had been sitting motionless with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them slightly. His sharp, calculating gaze shifted toward Leonard, who was absorbed in reading the alchemy diary. The boy''s furrowed brow and quiet determination caught Alfonso''s attention. He observed him for a moment, as though reminded of something distant, before closing his eyes again and retreating into his own thoughts. --- Meanwhile, in the Baron''s Castle at Delin Town, tension was brewing. Baron Delin XVI paced the grand hall, his ornate robe sweeping the polished stone floor. His expression was grim as he turned to his butler. "Has there been any news of Knight Matthew?" he demanded, his voice clipped with impatience. The butler, a thin man with a stoic demeanor, shook his head. "No, my lord. Since Knight Matthew took half of the town''s sheriffs up the mountain two nights ago, we''ve heard nothing." Baron Delin''s frown deepened. He tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, the weight of the situation pressing on him. Knight Matthew wasn''t just any knight. He was an envoy from the Dukedom of Phoenix Claw, a neighboring power that wielded considerable influence. If it had been an ordinary knight, Delin wouldn''t have been so concerned. His territory boasted hundreds of musketeers, capable of overwhelming any lone warrior with sheer firepower. But Knight Matthew was different. His presence in Delin Town had already been a source of unease. From the moment he arrived, he had been searching for something; though what it was, Delin had no idea. Two nights ago, he had taken a contingent of armed sheriffs into the mountain. Now, none of them had returned. "I''ve sent a search party to the mountain," the butler offered. "We should have a report by today." Delin nodded curtly but couldn''t shake his unease. A knight and a dozen armed men didn''t just vanish into thin air. Whatever had happened in the forest, it was something beyond the ordinary. Just then, a voice called out from the courtyard, loud and urgent. "My Lord Baron! My Lord Baron!" The butler turned as a young man with blond hair and freckles rushed into the hall. "This is one of the men from the search party," the butler said, gesturing for him to speak. "What did you find?" Delin demanded, his voice sharp. The man hesitated, his face pale. "My Lord Baron, we... we found their bodies. Knight Matthew and all the sheriffs; they''re dead." "What?!" Delin shot to his feet, his voice a mixture of shock and fury. "All of them?" "Yes, my lord. Every single one. Their bodies were¡ª" The man faltered, the memory clearly haunting him. "They were torn apart. It wasn''t like anything I''ve ever seen before." Delin''s hands clenched into fists. A chill ran down his spine as he considered the implications. An entire group, including a knight who had passed the trials, annihilated without a single survivor. "Prepare my carriage immediately," Delin ordered, his voice firm despite the fear gnawing at him. "I must go to the Dukedom of Phoenix Claw and inform the duke. Whatever danger lies in that mountain, it''s far too great to ignore. If we don''t act, this entire region could fall into chaos." The butler nodded and hurried off to make the arrangements. Delin stared out the window, his unease growing. This wasn''t just a local problem, it was something far darker. --- As the carriage carrying Alfonso and Leonard continued southward, the journey was quiet, almost uneventful. Leonard, however, was anything but idle. He had spent the past few days devouring the contents of the alchemy notebook his teacher had given him. Each page was a revelation, his understanding of mutation science growing from rudimentary to something far more structured and insightful. The concept of ''mutation catalysis'' fascinated him. The idea that organisms could be artificially induced to mutate, potentially unlocking dormant traits or hidden bloodlines, opened a world of possibilities. Yet, he also noted the risks. Not all mutations were beneficial; some were outright dangerous, leading to malformed and unstable results. Among the methods detailed in the notebook was a potion known as the ''Physical Activity Activation Elixir.'' This substance, according to the text, heightened the activity of cells within the body, making an organism more susceptible to mutation. Leonard pondered this concept deeply. ''Cellular activation... could this potion enhance physical performance as well?'' He imagined its applications; not just for mutation, but for improving strength, endurance, and recovery. It seemed wizards had little interest in physical prowess, preferring shortcuts to achieve what knights and common folk spent years training for. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Some parts of the notebook described using the blood of certain mutant creatures to create potions that could permanently strengthen the body. Unlike laborious physical training, these potions offered immediate results. With the right materials, such enhancements could even be mass-produced. Leonard''s thoughts raced. ''If I could perfect such a potion, I wouldn''t just gain strength; I''d save time for more important studies.'' The carriage jolted slightly as it hit a bump, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at Alfonso, who sat motionless, his eyes closed once more. Was he meditating? Or simply lost in thought? "Teacher," Leonard said hesitantly, breaking the silence. "You haven''t eaten yet. I saved this for you." He pulled a small piece of bread from his coat and held it out. Alfonso opened his eyes briefly, his gaze cool and distant. "I''m not hungry," he said simply, before closing his eyes again. Leonard nodded and withdrew the bread, unoffended. He had grown accustomed to his teacher''s terse demeanor. Alfonso was a man of precision; he rarely spoke, and when he did, it was only to convey something necessary. Tucking the bread back into his coat, Leonard returned to his notebook. The carriage rattled onward, the sound of hooves striking the dirt road a steady rhythm beneath them. Leonard''s mind churned with possibilities, his hunger for knowledge driving him forward. If the journey south continued to be this quiet, he might just master the basics of mutation science before they reached their destination. Chapter 14: Alfonso’s Test! Chapter 14: Alfonso''s Test!"Teacher, I''ve finished reading the book," Leonard said as he handed the notebook back to Alfonso, his tone confident yet respectful. Alfonso, perhaps tired of his usual meditation, did something unexpected. Instead of returning to his trance-like state. Alfonso took a slow sip of milk before accepting the notebook from Leonard. Without a word, he slipped it back into his storage device with practiced ease. Then, with a calm motion, he raised his right hand. A faint purple light flickered at his fingertips, spreading outward like ripples in water. The light enveloped the entire carriage in an instant. Leonard glanced around nervously but saw no visible change. Everything seemed normal; Kenny was still at the reins, the steady clatter of hooves continued unabated. But Leonard had learned enough about magic to know appearances could be deceiving. "I gave you five days to read the book," Alfonso said, his voice even but edged with authority. "Yet here you are, claiming to have finished it already. If that''s true, I''ll test you. But let me be clear; I do not tolerate dishonesty or pretense." Leonard straightened in his seat, sensing the gravity of the moment. "As a wizard," Alfonso continued, "even an apprentice must remain grounded. Too many reckless students have thrown their lives away because of overconfidence or carelessness. If you are as foolish as they were, perhaps I should reconsider having you as my apprentice." His sharp gaze locked onto Leonard. "I''ll ask you one more time; are you absolutely certain you''ve retained everything in that notebook?" "Yes, Teacher. I''ve memorized it all," Leonard replied sincerely. He wasn''t exaggerating. Ever since the mysterious "door" had opened in his mind, his memory had transformed. Now, he could recall everything he read with perfect clarity after a single glance. It was as if his brain had become a living, breathing archive. This newfound ability wasn''t just an improvement; it was extraordinary. He could only compare it to being a human printer. Learning, once a struggle, had become effortless. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Alfonso studied Leonard for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. I''ll ask you some questions." He began his test with sharp precision, posing five questions that spanned the notebook''s contents. Some were about obscure details, a single word buried in a paragraph: while others covered critical concepts. Alfonso''s tone was neutral, but his eyes were watchful, gauging Leonard''s every reaction. Leonard, however, didn''t falter. He answered each question with ease, his responses swift and accurate. To him, the notebook''s contents were as clear as if they were written on the back of his hand. After the fifth question, Alfonso leaned back slightly, closing the glowing purple book in his lap. "Impressive," he said, a hint of approval creeping into his voice. "It seems you are more suited to wizardry than I initially thought. A sharp memory is invaluable, and yours is exceptional." He paused, then added, "Now, I''ll give you one final question. If your answer pleases me, I''ll reward you with something special." Alfonso''s ring flashed faintly, and in the blink of an eye, another book materialized in his hand. This one was smaller, with a black leather cover. The white letters etched on its surface seemed to glow faintly, though Leonard couldn''t initially recognize the script. As his eyes adjusted, something strange happened. Though the characters were foreign, their meaning blossomed in his mind instantly. The title read: ''Sleeping Curse.'' "This is your reward," Alfonso said, holding out the book. "Not just for your knowledge, but for your honesty." "Thank you, Teacher." Leonard accepted the book reverently with both hands. It was surprisingly heavy, its thickness betraying how much knowledge it contained. He frowned slightly, wondering why a single spell required such an extensive volume. Could it really take so much to master? Alfonso seemed to read his thoughts. "Magic is not simple, Leonard. It requires precision, practice, and patience. A spell is more than its incantation; it is an art, a science, and a philosophy combined. If you want to wield it effectively, you must understand every aspect." Leonard nodded, determination hardening in his gaze. He clutched the ''Sleeping Curse'' tome tightly, already feeling the weight of the journey ahead. The path of a wizard was not an easy one, but it was one he was determined to walk. At that moment, Leonard had a sudden realization, almost like a revelation: being a wizard wasn''t just about wielding power; it was about relentless hard work. The correlation seemed simple yet profound: ''A powerful wizard = a hardworking wizard.'' He had witnessed this firsthand. The sleeping spell Alfonso used earlier had been astonishingly effective. Lauren, who had been thrashing about in a rage, fell unconscious instantly, as if someone had flipped a switch. The contrast between her earlier fury and her current limp, snoring state was almost comical. Alfonso''s calm voice interrupted his thoughts. "Now that you''ve read the notebook, you should have a basic understanding of mutation science. Tell me, why do many wizards choose to extract mutations from monsters instead of guiding humans to mutate directly?" Leonard considered this carefully. His brief time as Alfonso''s apprentice had taught him a great deal about the nature of wizards. They were seekers of truth, perfectionists who valued reason above all else. Reckless experimentation that compromised their rationality was unacceptable. "Because wizards value reason?" he ventured cautiously. "If humans are directly guided to mutate, it could lead to instability, maybe even madness, and that would undermine a wizard''s ability to think rationally?" Alfonso''s lips curled into a faint smile; a mix of amusement and something darker. "You''re not entirely wrong, but it''s more complex than that. Mutation doesn''t always lead to madness or chaos. It can produce beneficial changes as well as harmful ones." Leonard furrowed his brow. "Then why is it forbidden to guide human mutation?" "Because it is an ''iron rule'' issued by the ''Order Wizard Council,''" Alfonso explained, his tone suddenly formal. "Directly inducing mutation in pure humans is prohibited. Wizards can experiment with transformation, transplant bloodlines, and perform various rituals, but mutation research on unaltered humans crosses a line." The ''Order Wizard Council.'' This was the first time Leonard had heard of such an institution, and the name intrigued him. But where there was order, surely there was opposition. He didn''t press Alfonso for details, though, sensing that his teacher wasn''t inclined to elaborate. "But your answer still satisfies me," Alfonso continued, his tone softening. "You''ve grasped an essential truth about wizards: ''rationality is our foundation.'' Without it, even the most gifted wizard is doomed to fail." With that, Alfonso retrieved a book from his storage device; a thick tome with a deep purple cover that shimmered faintly. The glow wasn''t subtle; it pulsed softly, like a heartbeat. Leonard''s curiosity got the better of him. He had discreetly glanced at the book multiple times to confirm the glow wasn''t a trick of the light. ''It''s definitely real,'' he thought, marveling at the magical artifact. "Take this. Study it carefully." The notebook bore a striking resemblance to the first one. Leonard''s suspicions were confirmed; his teacher''s teachings came in a series, and the first notebook had only been the beginning. Much of the earlier material had felt incomplete, leaving gaps that begged to be filled. He suspected there was at least one more notebook waiting beyond this one. Taking the notebook, Leonard couldn''t help but glance at Kenny, who was driving the carriage up front. The coachwoman showed no reaction to their conversation. It was as if she couldn''t hear a single word of what was being said. Leonard realized it must be the effect of the spell Alfonso had cast earlier, shielding their discussion from any prying ears. --- As the carriage approached their destination, the smell of salt and seaweed grew stronger, mingling with the crisp ocean breeze. They had arrived at ''Bangor Harbor.'' The city sprawled along the coastline, a mix of old and new. The houses closest to the sea were weathered and low, their walls darkened by years of exposure to salt and moisture. These buildings, once bustling with life, had been largely abandoned as the city expanded inland. The constant sea breeze and high humidity made these seaside homes cold and damp, especially at night. Their floors often remained slick with seawater, and the unrelenting chill seemed to seep into the bones of anyone who stayed too long. Even the healthiest people avoided them, knowing that prolonged exposure could lead to illness. Further inland, newer houses and bustling markets painted a different picture. The harbor itself had grown significantly in recent years, attracting merchants, sailors, and wanderers from all corners of the kingdom. Ships with tall masts lined the docks, their sails furled, and the air buzzed with the cries of vendors hawking fresh fish, exotic goods, and trinkets from distant lands. Leonard gazed out at the port with a mix of awe and unease. This was the place his family had planned to reunite, a city of opportunity, yes, but also of shadows. Here, wealth and progress coexisted with squalor and danger. For the wealthy, it was a gateway to the world; for the poor, it was a place to scrape out a living in whatever way they could. Still, Leonard felt a flicker of hope. Somewhere in this vast, chaotic city, his family might be waiting for him. ''If they made it safely, we''ll find each other.'' The thought steadied him as the carriage rolled into the heart of Bangor Harbor, its wheels rattling over cobblestones slick with ocean spray. Leonard clutched the notebook in his lap, determined to master its contents. In a city like this, knowledge might just be his greatest weapon. Chapter 15: Family! Chapter 15: Family!The once-thriving coastal homes of Bangor Port, now damp and weatherworn, stood largely abandoned by locals who had moved inland in search of better living conditions. Yet, as the port expanded and its economy boomed, outsiders flooded into the city, driving housing prices skyward. For the struggling poor, these seaside houses became a grim refuge. With minimal renovations, these salt-soaked dwellings were rented out to foreign laborers and refugees. The conditions were harsh; cold, damp, and unhealthy, but the rent was cheap. For five silver coins a month, a family of three could squeeze into a cramped single room, a small mercy for those who had nowhere else to go. In one such room, a small stove crackled faintly in the corner, doing its best to ward off the pervasive chill. A kettle balanced precariously on top, steam hissing from its spout as the lid clattered noisily. By the stove, a little girl no older than eight or nine stood on tiptoes, her small hands protected by a worn towel as she carefully lifted the kettle. The hot metal burned her hands red, but she didn''t flinch. She poured the steaming water into a basin of lukewarm water, stirred it, and soaked a cloth in the mix. Wrapping the cloth tightly to wring out the excess water, she hurried to the bed, her small footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor. "Here, Mama," she said softly, placing the warm towel on the forehead of the pale, frail woman lying beneath a thin quilt. The woman opened her eyes weakly, her face etched with illness and guilt. "Ava, darling, you''ve done enough. Go and rest for a while," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Ava shook her head, her expression serious beyond her years. "No, Mama. Papa and James are working. I have to take care of you." Angelina, the woman, reached out a trembling hand to touch her daughter''s cheek. Her heart ached with both pride and sorrow. Ava should have been running outside, laughing with other children, not burdened by the responsibilities of tending to a sick mother. Yet here she was, so capable, so selfless. "Mom," Ava said suddenly, her voice small and hesitant, "I miss my brother." Her lips quivered as she remembered the times her older brother James had cared for her, especially when she''d been sick. Angelina''s arms reached out from under the quilt, pulling Ava close. Her daughter''s words pierced her heart like a dagger. How could she not miss him, too? Angelina''s mind drifted back to that terrible day. They had been fleeing south with a group of refugees, exhausted and desperate, when the monster struck. It had come out of nowhere, barreling into their group like a nightmare given form. People screamed and scattered in all directions, chaos breaking apart families in an instant. In her panic, Angelina had grabbed Ava''s hand and run, her instincts driving her forward. It wasn''t until they had found safety hours later that she realized her eldest son was gone. She and her husband had searched for him, combing through the area with desperate hope. They had called his name until their voices were hoarse. But there was no trace of him; only the deafening silence of the forest. Eventually, the group urged them to move on. They had no choice but to continue south, dragging their grief and guilt along with them. Since then, every night, Angelina dreamed of her son. She would see him by her bedside, hear his voice calling out to her. Yet, every time she reached for him, he vanished like a ghost. Angelina tightened her embrace around Ava, pulling her closer. She wiped the tears from her daughter''s cheeks with her thumb, forcing a smile despite her own tears. "Ava, you''re such a strong girl. Don''t cry, my darling. We have to stay strong, for each other." "But, Mama," Ava whispered, her voice trembling, "you''re crying too." Angelina let out a shaky laugh. "That''s because I''m so proud of you. You''re taking such good care of me. But no more tears, alright?" S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Ava nodded, though her eyes glistened. She straightened up, determined. "Mama, we''re almost out of water. I''ll go fetch some more," she said, already reaching for the empty jug by the door. "No!" Angelina''s voice was sharp, startling Ava. She grabbed her daughter''s arm, her grip firm despite her frailty. "You''re not going out. Stay here. Stay with me." Ava looked up, confused. "But Mama¡ª" "Just stay," Angelina interrupted, pulling her daughter into her lap. Her arms encircled Ava protectively, one hand smoothing her hair while the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Her eyes flickered to the frosted window, her breath catching in her throat. Outside, a blurry figure loomed, its outline distorted by the foggy glass. It didn''t move, but its presence was unmistakable. Angelina''s grip on Ava tightened. Her heart raced as she stared at the shadow, a creeping sense of dread washing over her. **Whatever it was, it was watching.** The features of the man outside the window became clearer with each passing moment. His face pressed firmly against the frosted glass, flattening his nose and distorting his cheeks. His eyes scanned the dimly lit room with an unsettling intensity, as if he had every right to peer into their lives. Angelina clutched Ava tighter, her body trembling with a mix of fear and fury. Her heart raced, but she was powerless to act. Suddenly, a loud, angry voice shattered the eerie silence outside. "Hey! What the hell are you doing by my house?" The man at the window flinched and pulled back, glancing nervously toward the source of the voice. "Hey, man," the intruder said, feigning innocence. "Is this your house?" "Get lost!" the voice bellowed. "If I catch you snooping around here again, I''ll beat you to a pulp!" The intruder hesitated for a moment, then slinked away into the shadows, muttering under his breath. The door creaked open moments later, and two figures entered the room, a tall, broad-shouldered man and a sturdy boy who trailed behind him. "Angelina, I chased him off," the man said, stepping into the dim light. It was Hamilton, her husband. His beard was thick, his short black hair dusted with the grime of a long day''s work. His square jaw and piercing eyes radiated a protective energy, though the lines of fatigue on his face were hard to miss. Following close behind was their second son, James, a boy with the beginnings of his father''s build but a face still marked with youthful innocence. "Dad," James said, his tone firm, "that guy''s been lurking around the house for days. I''ve seen him a couple of times." Hamilton nodded, his face darkening. "I know. Maybe it''s time we moved to a new place." "But where?" Angelina interjected, worry etched into her pale face. "The houses in the city are too expensive, and what if that man comes back after we leave? We can''t risk it." Hamilton sighed, his frustration evident. The situation was far from ideal, but he didn''t have an immediate solution. For the past two weeks, the family had learned some harsh truths about Bangor Harbor. The city''s prosperity masked a darker underbelly. Refugees were prime targets for criminals, especially children. Stories circulated about kids being snatched from poor neighborhoods, some sent to brothels, others sold into servitude for nobles with twisted appetites. Hamilton clenched his fists at the thought. He had heard too much during his time working on the docks. Bangor Harbor was a city of contrasts: its wealthy districts boasted elegant five-story homes and impeccably dressed merchants and nobles, but the slums were a stark reminder of the desperation beneath the glittering surface. "It''s not safe here," he said finally, his voice low but firm. "But for now, we have no choice. James and I are making good money at the docks. If we work hard, we can save up enough to move to a better part of the city soon." "How much can you even make carrying cargo?" Angelina asked, skeptical but hopeful. Hamilton''s expression softened slightly. "Four or five silver coins a day if we push ourselves. It''s hard work, but it pays well." Angelina nodded, though worry still clouded her eyes. "Promise me you''ll be careful. And what about Ava? She needs to stay safe while you''re out. I don''t want her leaving the house for any reason." "She won''t," Hamilton reassured her. He glanced at Ava, who clung to her mother''s side. "As long as she stays inside, no one will dare try anything during the day." Angelina hesitated, then spoke softly. "I''m just... worried about Leonard. If we move, what if he can''t find us?" Her words hung in the air. Leonard, their eldest, had been separated from them during the chaos of their escape. She didn''t know if he was alive, much less if he had managed to make it to Bangor Harbor. Hamilton crouched beside the bed, placing a calloused hand on Angelina''s shoulder. "I''ve thought about that too," he admitted. "But we can''t let fear stop us from staying safe. If Leonard comes here, this is the first place he''ll look; most refugees start in the slums. If we do move, I''ll leave word with the people I know. We''ll make sure he can find us." Angelina nodded reluctantly. "I just hope he''s alright..." Hamilton forced a reassuring smile, though his own worries were not so easily banished. "He''s smart, just like his mother. He''ll find us." Some familiar faces from their hometown had also made the journey to Bangor Port. In this strange city, where everything felt unfamiliar, there was a natural camaraderie among people who shared the same roots. It was easier to find comfort in one another, a lifeline of familiarity amidst the chaos. For now, all they could do was wait, work, and pray that the family would one day be whole again and Leonard too make his way to Bangor Harbor. Chapter 16: Sleeping Curse! Chapter 16: Sleeping Curse!The carriage came to a halt in front of a modest hotel. Just as Ted had promised, the journey had been smooth, without any incidents. Leonard stepped out, stretching his stiff limbs before heading inside. Once in his room, he shut the door behind him and immediately sought out the small bathroom to freshen up. The cold water jolted his senses, washing away the exhaustion from the road. Stripping off his coat, he settled onto the bed, the weight of the journey melting into the softness of the mattress. Next to him lay the new notebook Alfonso had given him. Picking it up, Leonard flipped through the pages, realizing that this one felt different. It wasn''t just a manual of magical theory; it was part diary, part experiment log. The entries painted a vivid picture of a younger Alfonso, someone far less composed than the masterful wizard Leonard knew now. One entry, written in precise but hurried handwriting, caught his attention: ''"Seventh Wizarding Era, Year 4671, March 5th.'' The curse on my sister has worsened. I spent all the magic stones I earned from my part-time job to buy a potion Harlin recommended. It has temporarily stabilized her condition, but it''s nowhere near a cure. I begged my professor, a specialist in curses, to help. He agreed, but only if I paid him 800 magic stones. Eight hundred! It''s impossible. No one would lend me such an amount, no matter how much I pleaded. I even considered selling myself, but what use am I? My talents are mediocre at best. I''m so sorry, sister. I''ve failed you." Leonard froze, his chest tightening as he read the words. Alfonso; his composed, unflinching teacher, had once been this desperate, this vulnerable. It was a side of him Leonard could hardly reconcile with the man he knew now. ''Did he ever cure her?'' The question lingered in Leonard''s mind, but he didn''t dare ask Alfonso directly. To touch on such a personal wound might provoke a wrath he wasn''t ready to face. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. As he flipped further through the notebook, the tone shifted dramatically. The personal reflections gave way to detailed notes on experiments; gruesome ones. Alfonso''s early work in mutation science involved testing on living subjects. The descriptions were clinical, detached, and often disturbing. Yet Leonard couldn''t deny their value. The way Alfonso recorded his observations, structured his data, and summarized his findings offered invaluable insight into scientific methodology. After a while, Leonard felt fatigue creeping in. He closed the notebook and slid it beneath his pillow for safekeeping. --- Reaching for another book, Leonard picked up the ''magic tome on the Sleeping Curse.'' It was heavier than he expected, and as he opened it, the reason became clear. The pages were gilded, shimmering faintly in the dim light. Leonard ran his fingers over the surface, marveling at the texture. ''Gold?'' he thought, astonished. ''If all these pages are made of gold, how much would this book be worth?'' The book contained eight golden pages, each engraved with intricate symbols and text. Front and back, there were a total of sixteen detailed entries devoted entirely to the Sleeping Curse. As Leonard delved into the tome, its complexity unfolded. The book didn''t just describe the spell; it laid out every aspect of its construction, from the theoretical framework to practical precautions. The ''spell framework'' was central to it all. If a wizard wished to cast a spell, they first had to construct this framework within their ''spiritual library'' an abstract space within their consciousness. Once the framework was built, the wizard could channel their mental power through it to unleash the spell. The tome explained this process step by step, starting with the most basic structures and gradually progressing to more advanced techniques. Leonard was impressed by how methodically it broke everything down, making even complex concepts accessible. The deeper he read, the more immersed he became. Every detail, every symbol in the book felt alive, demanding his focus and understanding. Despite the weight of his exhaustion, Leonard pressed on, determined to master the Sleeping Curse. He couldn''t help but smile as he imagined using it in practice. ''Even the most chaotic moments can be silenced with the right spell,'' he thought. This spell wasn''t just powerful, it was a tool of control, and for Leonard, it was a small step closer to mastering the art of wizardry. The concept was straightforward enough, at least in theory. In Leonard''s understanding, casting a spell began with constructing a ''model'' in the spiritual sea. Once the model was complete, a wizard could consume mental energy to activate it. This model would then harness the magical elements in the air, shaping them into a spell. Simple on paper. In reality, it was a monumental task. The challenge lay in building the ''spell framework'', a process akin to creating something from nothing. This foundational leap; from ''zero to one'', was one of the hardest challenges in magic. Constructing the framework required first establishing an ''anchor'' in the spiritual sea. This involved creating stable nodes and laying the groundwork for the entire spell. Even with the detailed guidance in the magic tome, Leonard spent an hour fumbling through his attempts, unable to even find the starting point to anchor his mental energy. Frustration bubbled up. He opened his eyes, sighed deeply, and shook his head. ''Forget it,'' he thought. ''I''ll rest and meditate instead.'' --- Leonard sat cross-legged on the bed, taking a deep breath to calm himself. As his mind emptied, his thoughts receded into the stillness of meditation. Slowly, in the vast darkness of his spiritual sea, a new ''earth ring'' began to form. The process was deliberate but satisfying. His focus was unwavering as he guided the formation of the ring, layer by layer. In time, the new ring took shape, joining the nine existing ones already present in his spiritual space. When the tenth earth ring finally connected to the others, a surge of energy rippled through him. The blue specks of light that floated in the spiritual void seemed to rush toward him, as though drawn by an invisible force. Leonard''s body responded to this influx of energy. His mind felt sharper, his spirit lighter. He opened his eyes, and for a moment, they seemed to gleam with an inner light. A smile spread across his face as a notification appeared in his mind: --- ''Leonard'' ''Level:'' 2 (1/100) ''Physical Fitness:'' 1.32 ''Mental Strength:'' 2.3 ''Mastery:'' - ''Earth Ring Meditation (10%)'' ''Life Occupation:'' - ''Level 1 Mutation Science (9%)'' (0/10) - ''Level 1 Blood Science (1%)'' (0/10) ''General Experience:'' 90 --- Though he couldn''t accumulate more general experience without completing daily tasks, his steady progress in meditation was paying off. His Earth Ring Meditation method had reached new heights, and his understanding of mutation science was growing incrementally. Leonard savored the feeling of growing stronger, step by step. It wasn''t just about the numbers, it was the sense of fulfillment that came with each small victory. ''If only I could reach Bangor Harbor soon and reunite with my family, everything would feel complete,'' he thought. --- A sudden knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. ''Bang, bang.'' "Who is it?" Leonard called, his voice cautious. "It''s me, Kenny," came the familiar voice from outside. "What is it?" "Sir, we''ll be reaching the Sage Flitwick Mountains tomorrow," Kenny said. "The road will likely get bumpier from here on." "How long will it take to cross the mountains?" Leonard asked. "We''re taking the fastest route," Kenny replied. "It''ll take three days. There aren''t any towns or villages in the mountains, so we''ll have to camp in the wild for the duration." "Got it," Leonard said, his tone steady. Hearing Kenny''s footsteps fade away, Leonard leaned back against the bed. The thrill of successfully condensing his tenth earth ring still lingered, making it impossible to relax. His mind buzzed with energy, leaving no room for sleep. After a moment of thought, he decided to clear his head. Pulling on his coat and boots, he headed downstairs and stepped out into the cool night air outside the hotel. The world was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind. Leonard breathed deeply, letting the night soothe his restless mind. The road ahead was uncertain, but he was ready for whatever challenges fate; had in store. Chapter 17: Wizard Recruitment? Chapter 17: Wizard Recruitment?Tonight, the resting place of them is a quaint hotel in the heart of town. Its decor immediately strikes a familiar chord; reminiscent of the Maple Leaf Hotel we visited before. In fact, it seems that most hotels of this era share a similar aesthetic, blending functionality with understated elegance. A hotel like this serves multiple purposes: a haven for travelers, a hub for meals, a secure place for storage, a consignment center, and even an entertainment venue. Those who manage such establishments often hold significant status within the local community. Apart from the nobility, innkeepers are among the wealthiest and most influential individuals in town. As Leonard descended the creaking stairs and stepped outside into the chilly night, a light breeze brushed past me. The hotel was surrounded by a sturdy wooden fence, its entrance marked by a hanging wooden plaque swaying gently in the wind. Nearby, cow sheds and stables lined the side of the building, filling the air with the earthy scent of livestock. In the dim light, he could make out horses, their heads buried in feeding troughs, chewing the remnants of dry grass. Further back lay an open area where horse-drawn carriages and flatbed carts stood in quiet disarray. Faint murmurs of conversation and the occasional puff of smoke drifted from the shadows. The hotel had attendants to guard the vehicles at night, but this service came at an additional cost, a small price to pay for peace of mind. Behind it all loomed the stone structure of the hotel. It was a two-tiered building, with the drinking area set underground and the guest rooms accessible by a separate staircase. The dark facade of the stone walls appeared somber under the flickering glow of a few oil lamps. In contrast, the underground tavern radiated warmth and noise, its lively atmosphere spilling out through the stairwell. The night air carried a damp chill that prompted me to pull my coat tighter as Leonard pushed open the heavy oak door. A mixture of tallow candles and the sour tang of sweat hit me instantly. Inside, the underground tavern was alive with activity, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold outside. It was the largest and most bustling town I''d visited so far, owing much of its prosperity to the nearby iron mine. According to Kenny, mining was grueling work, but the pay was decent. On their rare days off, miners would flock to the tavern to drink away their exhaustion. The room was lit by hanging lanterns, casting golden pools of light on the stone walls. Wooden tables dotted the space, their surfaces scarred from years of use. Around them, chairs fashioned from tree stumps groaned under the weight of their occupants. The bar, a centerpiece of the tavern, boasted an impressive array of rums, ales, and beers, neatly lined on a wall of shelves. Despite the late hour, the tavern was alive with revelry. A group of drunken men in one corner had stripped off their shirts, their hairy chests heaving as they bellowed out folk songs from their homeland. Across the room, a cluster of women in bold, revealing attire lounged in another corner. One of them caught the attention of a staggering drunk. Their conversation, heated at first, softened dramatically when he revealed a pouch of gold coins. Her demeanor changed instantly, and she draped herself over him, whispering into his ear with a practiced smile. The pair left the tavern together, her laughter trailing behind them. As they passed by, Leonard caught the faintest snatch of their exchange. "I''ve struck it rich!" the man exclaimed, his voice slurring. "That''s wonderful," she purred, clinging to his arm. The heady aroma of cheap perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the other smells. he sneezed, overwhelmed by the mixture. Finding a quiet corner, Leonard slid into an empty seat. The bartender, a wiry man with a towel slung over his shoulder, approached promptly to wipe down the table. "What''ll it be, sir?" he asked, his voice friendly but brisk. "Wine," he replied, eager to try something other than beer for a change. "We offer three options," he began. "The first is our house red, made from grapes grown in the local orchards, eighty copper coins per pitcher. Then there''s the imported red wine from the northern vineyards at two silver coins per bottle. Lastly, we have a fine white wine from the prestigious Brandy family''s distillery, priced at eight silver coins a bottle." After a moment''s thought, Leonard nodded. "I''ll take a bottle of the house red and the imported red, along with a serving of barbecue." The bartender smiled and scribbled my order. "That''ll be three silver coins and thirty copper coins, sir." Leonard casually tossed the coins into the tray held by the waiter, who deftly caught them without breaking stride. His sharp eyes flicked over the coins, mentally tallying the amount in mere seconds. Satisfied, he gave a slight bow and disappeared into the bustling tavern. As a gust of cold wind swept through the room, the oak door creaked open, revealing a striking figure. A young girl, golden-haired and dressed in an opulent, fluffy princess gown, stepped inside with an air of confidence. Her outfit was extravagant, every detail speaking of wealth and status. She was flanked by two individuals: a tall, imposing man cloaked in shadow and a woman draped in a flowing white cloak over a lace dress of platinum threads. The man''s rugged face was partially hidden by his cloak, but a jagged scar near the corner of his eye gleamed faintly in the dim light. He radiated an air of danger, his movements deliberate and measured. The woman, on the other hand, exuded elegance. Her wavy golden hair spilled over her shoulders, and her faint smile revealed dimples that softened her refined demeanor. The girl strode confidently to a corner table, one diagonally opposite Leonard, and motioned for the waiter. "Where''s your menu? Bring it here," she called out impatiently, her voice clear and commanding. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The older woman glanced around the tavern with barely concealed disdain, pulling her cloak closer and swiping at the dust on the table with a lace handkerchief. The man in the cloak remained silent, his shadowed eyes scanning the room, pausing briefly on Leonard before shifting toward a group of rowdy drunkards singing loudly in the corner. The waiter, clutching a wooden board etched with the tavern''s menu, approached the girl. She leaned forward eagerly. "A bottle of your best brandy, cumin roast meat, roast rabbit, and creamed corn salad," she said with the enthusiasm of someone exploring a new world. Turning to her companions, she asked, "Uncle Damian, Sister Dolores, what about you?" Dolores offered a polite smile, her dimples deepening. "I''ll pass. he must watch my figure. A late-night meal would ruin my dress for the upcoming ball." The man, Damian, shook his head slightly, remaining silent. His gaze once again swept the room, lingering momentarily on Leonard before continuing its measured observation. The waiter returned to Leonard''s table, balancing a tray with remarkable skill. On it sat a steaming plate of barbecue, a bottle of local red wine, and another of imported red wine. "Your order, sir," he said, placing everything neatly before him. Leonard picked up his knife and fork, slicing into the meat. The aroma was enticing, though the first bite revealed it to be tougher and gamier than he had hoped. The wine, sour and slightly astringent, wasn''t much better, but it was serviceable. He chewed thoughtfully, his focus drifting to the girl''s table. The golden-haired girl leaned closer to Dolores, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though still loud enough for Leonard to catch. "Sister Dolores, is Bangor Harbor really as grand as they say in the capital?" "Absolutely," Dolores replied with a knowing smile. "It''s not as vast as the royal capital, but it''s a hub of trade, an open port teeming with exotic goods and flavors from across the seas." The girl''s eyes lit up. "Exotic flavors? Do you mean foods I''ve never even dreamed of tasting?" Dolores chuckled softly. "Indeed. Bangor Harbor is full of surprises. But remember, we''re heading there for more than just delicacies. In half a year, the fleet will arrive to recruit wizard apprentices. Once aboard, it may be years before we return to the kingdom." The girl''s excitement dimmed slightly, her expression turning pensive. Leonard, who had been absently slicing his meat, slowed his movements. The words "wizard apprentices" and "fleet" caught his attention. Was this the same Bangor Harbor his teacher had mentioned? Was the fleet tied to the mystical academy where wizards were trained? If so, could this harbor be the gateway to a world beyond this continent? His thoughts churned, weaving possibilities and questions. Could his teacher have brought him here with this fleet in mind? If Bangor Harbor was so far removed from the kingdom, what awaited him there? As Leonard mulled over the implications, the tavern door slammed open with a thunderous bang. Heads turned as a disheveled man stumbled in, his clothes torn and his face pale with terror. He staggered down the stairs, barely managing to stay upright before collapsing onto the floor. His ragged breaths filled the sudden silence. "There''s a monster! A monster!" he cried, his voice hoarse and trembling. The room erupted into chaos, patrons shouting questions and theories. The golden-haired girl clutched her cloak, her wide eyes darting between the man and her companions. Dolores frowned, her calm demeanor faltering for the first time. Damian rose slowly, his scarred face set in a grim expression. Leonard tightened his grip on his knife, his appetite forgotten. Whatever the man had seen, he had to be ready. The air in the tavern shifted, the once-lively atmosphere replaced by a tense anticipation. Chapter 18: A Monster! Chapter 18: A Monster!The man stumbled into the bar, his head bloodied and his face twisted in terror. He fell to the floor with a painful thud, his screams cutting through the air like a jagged knife. The bar, once filled with the hum of laughter and conversation, fell into a heavy silence. Every eye in the room turned toward him. Patrons, both local miners and travelers alike, watched with a mixture of shock and curiosity as he scrambled to his feet, his movements erratic, his breath shallow. "There''s a monster in the mine!" he shouted, his voice breaking as he gasped for air. "It ate so many people... It''s... it''s terrifying!" The man''s face was pale, his eyes wide with panic. His words tumbled out in a frantic rush, each one more desperate than the last. "They''re all dead! All of them! Those monsters... they''re horrible!" He was shaking, clearly in the grip of some kind of shock, his mind struggling to process the horror he had witnessed. The entire bar had fallen deathly quiet. Even the drunkards at the table, who had been laughing and slapping each other on the back moments before, now sat still, listening intently. A grizzled old man with a white beard, his clothes simple but his presence commanding, stood up from his seat. His eyes narrowed with concern. "What happened in the mine?" he asked, his voice steady but laced with urgency. His question cut through the tense silence, drawing the attention of everyone around him. The man, still trembling, tried to steady himself as he spoke. "We were asleep... just sleeping... when this... this giant, snake-like creature burst in. It was bigger than a cow. Pete, he barely had time to get out of bed before the thing swallowed him whole. Head... body... all gone in an instant." He paused, his hands shaking as he wiped his face, trying to collect himself. "I ran. I ran out of there as fast as I could. And when I got outside, I saw more of them. There were dozens; no, hundreds of these monsters, crawling through the mine like... like they owned the place." He looked around the room, his eyes wide with terror. "If those monsters come into the town... we''re all finished. All of us." A drunken laugh cut through the room, jarring and dismissive. A burly man stood up, swaying slightly on his feet as he slapped his hand on the table. His face was flushed, and his words were slurred. "Hah! Lammy, you''ve been hitting the sauce too hard, haven''t you? Monsters in the mine? I''ve been working there for five years and I''ve never seen a damn thing like that! What are we afraid of? There''s a dozen of us here! Grab your pickaxe, show us where these monsters are hiding, and we''ll see who''s tougher, the pickaxe or the monster!" His laughter echoed through the room, but it quickly died down as people exchanged nervous glances. Leonard, who had been quietly observing from the corner of the bar, couldn''t help but feel a slight tension in his chest. ''Monsters?'' he thought. ''This world is more dangerous than I realized.'' His first instinct was to dismiss the man''s story as a wild exaggeration, perhaps a result of fear and a bit too much alcohol. But then the man described the creature like a giant snake, and Leonard''s mind immediately raced. The teacher had once mentioned a creature of similar description, a lizard-like monster with a taste for human flesh. It was possible, he thought, that the creature had come to the mine, though the idea of such a monster being part of a larger group was unsettling. Before Leonard could dwell on it further, the tavern''s patrons grew restless. The remaining sober miners gathered their things and, in hushed tones, made their way toward the church, a known safe haven in town. The drunkards were herded into the back of the tavern to sleep off their inebriation. Leonard finished his meal and, after a brief pause, rose to leave. His room was upstairs, away from the noise of the bar, and he needed to rest before continuing his journey the next day. Meanwhile, outside the town, chaos had erupted around the mine. A series of small bungalows had been hastily erected for the miners, but at that moment, they were empty, their inhabitants scattered in fear. People fled in all directions, but none could outrun the terrible creature that loomed in the open space under the moonlight. The monster, silver-gray and about three meters long, resembled a massive earthworm or serpent. Its body writhed as it moved, its head shifting from side to side as it seemed to sniff the air, searching for something; someone. After a tense moment, the creature seemed to settle on a direction. With a sudden and unsettling fluidity, it burrowed into the ground, the earth parting easily before it, as though the soil were no more substantial than water. From a high vantage point not far from the chaos, a tall figure, cloaked in shadows, watched the scene unfold. His face was tense, his expression filled with disbelief. ''Monsters? Here?'' he thought. ''This world is far more dangerous than I imagined.'' Beside him, the large lizard, its eyes glinting with an unnatural intelligence; stared down at the mine, its head low. It seemed agitated, spitting out strange glowing cores, a sign of its restless mood. "This is bad," David muttered under his breath. He had followed the creature , staying in the shadows as much as possible. ''I hope this doesn''t delay the journey.'' He and the big lizard followed behind their master''s carriage. They dared not appear on the main road openly during the day. They could only follow their master''s tracks in the mountains and forests on both sides of the road as the creature had keen sense of smell all he did was follow it. He glanced at the lizard. "You''re not thinking of going down there, are you? That would expose us to the townspeople... I''m not ready for that. What if we can''t win?" But as if in response to his words, the lizard suddenly moved, its massive body slipping down the hillside with remarkable speed. The creature, though huge, was a blur as it cut through the rocky terrain. David stood frozen, his mouth agape. Before he could speak, the lizard was already gone, its form lost in the shadows of the night. From a distance, at the base of the mountain near the mine, a miner sprinted through the darkness, his heart pounding with fear. He had heard the terrifying growls echoing from the mine, but he had no idea what was causing them. As he ran, the ground beneath him suddenly trembled, and before he could react, the earth split open with a violent crack. The miner''s foot caught on the jagged earth, and he tumbled forward, helplessly falling into the chaos. With a horrific screech, a massive head burst from the mud beneath him. The miner''s scream was cut short as the creature''s enormous mouth opened wide. In an instant, the lower half of his body was swallowed, disappearing into the abyss of the monster''s throat. The sound of crushing bones and flesh filled the air, drowning out all other noise. Just as the creature began to pull its victim deeper into the earth, a monstrous form barreled through the air, colliding with the earthworm-like creature with the force of a runaway bulldozer. The creature was sent flying backward, rolling through the dirt in a wild, uncontrolled spin. But before it could regain its bearings, another creature; a massive lizard, its scales gleaming faintly red, charged from the mountainside. Its eyes were glowing with a faint, ominous light as it locked onto the earthworm monster. The earthworm froze, its body stiffening as if caught in some sort of trance. Without hesitation, the lizard lunged forward, snapping its jaws around the monster''s neck. A sickening crack echoed as the earthworm''s head was ripped clean off, the blood and fluids pouring from its severed body like a burst of dark juice. The once terrifying creature, impervious to the pickaxes of miners, was reduced to nothing more than a fragile piece of paper in front of the lizard monster''s might. The chaos seemed to fade away as the lizard stood victorious, its chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The danger had passed, but the night''s horrors lingered in the air. Meanwhile, in a quiet room upstairs, two sisters sat in deep conversation. Antina, the younger of the two, sighed heavily as she stared out the window, her thoughts clearly troubled. "Sister, I don''t want to go," she murmured. "Why did Father send me to Bangor Port? I don''t want to leave the kingdom." Dolores, her older sister, sat beside her, trying to offer comfort. "Antina, you must understand, the kingdom isn''t safe right now. Bangor Port is the safest place for you. Only when you become a wizard will you have the power to choose your own path, unaffected by the dangers that plague the world." sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Antina frowned, her golden hair falling around her face as she glanced at her sister. "But I heard it''s nearly impossible to come back once you leave. What if I can''t return?" "Who told you that?" Dolores smiled reassuringly. "Once you become a formal wizard, you''ll have the freedom to return whenever you wish. And don''t worry, I''ll be with you. You won''t be alone." "But why hasn''t anyone from our family ever come back?" Antina bit her lip, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What if it''s too dangerous?" Dolores'' smile faltered as she placed a hand on her sister''s shoulder. "I know you''re scared, but you have to trust Father. He wouldn''t send us away unless it was absolutely necessary. Besides, with Uncle Damian leading the way, you''re in good hands. He''s one of the kingdom''s greatest knights." Antina''s expression softened as she thought about Uncle Damian. He was a legend in their family; Storm Knight, a man who had led a handful of knights to defeat thousands of bandits. His reputation alone was enough to put anyone at ease. "Yeah, you''re right," Antina said after a long pause. "If it were really dangerous, he wouldn''t have let Uncle Damian follow us so openly." Dolores nodded, pleased to see her sister''s worry easing. "Exactly. Now, try to rest. We''ll figure everything out when we get to Bangor Port." Elsewhere in the hotel, Damian, known as Uncle Damian, stood in the hallway, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The wooden floors creaked underfoot as he listened intently to the sounds around him. Something felt off. The footsteps that echoed through the corridor were unusually heavy, as if the person walking was dragging something behind them. It wasn''t the usual rhythm of a human stride. The sound was dull and oddly muffled, and the dragging noise sent a shiver down Damian''s spine. His mind raced, picturing a tall figure moving slowly, dragging something massive behind them. His muscles tensed, ready for action. If the stranger neared the door to the young ladies'' room, he would be ready to strike. Damian''s mind quickly ran through his options, calculating the best angle to strike if the attacker came through the door. He could already feel the weight of his sword, as though his very body was preparing to slice through the air at lightning speed. But then, a strange noise caught his attention. Down the corridor, David, an unexpected presence, turned his head curiously toward the wall. Since his transformation into a lizard-man, his senses had become unnervingly sharp. The faintest sounds reached him clearly; whispers, breaths, the very murmur of life behind walls. Was someone hiding on the other side? His ears twitched at the faintest breath. He scratched his head in confusion, unsure of what he was hearing. ''Am I imagining things?'' he thought. His heightened senses made everything seem so much clearer, but now, he wasn''t so sure if the sounds were real or just a product of his new, unnervingly sensitive hearing. The sense of danger in the air was palpable. Every footstep, every breath, could mean something more. Chapter 19: Investigating The Mine! Chapter 19: Investigating The Mine!Leonard m sat in the room, thumbing through a magic book on sleeping spells. The gentle buzz from the alcohol seemed to sharpen his understanding of concepts that once felt impenetrable, sparking a flood of inspiration. The spell''s foundation lay in a process called anchoring. Imagine the spiritual sea as a three-dimensional space. Anchoring involves transforming mental energy into something like nails; specialized forms used to secure key points, or nodes, within this space. By linking these nodes, a spell''s framework emerges, forming the structure necessary for magic to function. However, anchoring is no easy task, especially for beginners. It''s akin to mastering deep meditation in Zen Buddhism: the theory is clear, but practice demands extraordinary focus. Even seasoned practitioners take years to grasp it. The gap between knowing and doing is immense. Fortunately, Leonard m wasn''t starting from scratch. Meditation, a gateway to the spiritual sea, was something he''d already practiced, giving him a head start. Initially, he toyed with shortcuts to bypass anchoring, but quickly dismissed them. The process, after all, isn''t just about securing nodes; it''s about precision. A flawed framework could unravel the entire spell, much like a single faulty component can cripple a complex machine. As an apprentice, Leonard understood his limits. Now was not the time for innovation. He needed to follow the tried-and-true methods of experienced mages. Cutting corners might yield temporary gains, but the risk to his future was far too great. Yet, the practical challenge remained: how does one anchor in a three-dimensional space? How could he shape mental energy into nails strong enough to secure these nodes? Leonard''s efforts to manipulate his spiritual sea seemed futile; until he noticed something. A faint, rotating ring hovered at the center of his spiritual sea. This ring wasn''t unfamiliar. It resembled the Earth Ring Meditation technique he''d studied. According to his teacher, mastering this meditation would eventually produce a spell called Earth Ring in the mind. If that spell didn''t materialize from nothing, could this ring represent an unformed spell framework? The realization clicked. When meditating on the Earth Ring, practitioners condense mental energy into rings. This process involves attracting fragments of soul energy, tiny remnants left in the air after death; then compressing them repeatedly until they solidify into a coherent ring. Leonard had spent months meditating and grasped the principles behind this process. Compressing mental energy to form the Earth Ring wasn''t just theoretical anymore; it was a skill he''d mastered. Soul fragments, described in the book as the residue of spiritual energy, essentially made anchoring possible. By using these fragments to condense his mental power, he could secure it at specific points in his spiritual sea. This revelation shifted his perspective. He had been stuck trying to force his mental energy into the shape of nails, a method rooted in the book''s descriptions. But now he saw that anchoring was less about rigidly following those descriptions and more about understanding the underlying principles. With this new insight, Leonard felt ready to tackle anchoring again, not as a blind imitator, but as someone who understood the mechanics behind the magic. The Earth Ring''s simplicity was its strength. In the spiritual sea, Leonard realized that anchoring didn''t require overly complex shapes. A basic circle would do, especially since he was already adept at forming rings through meditation. He gave it a try and soon managed to create his first anchor. In his spiritual sea, a ring-like cluster of mental energy stabilized, fixed firmly in place. However, as he examined his work, Leonard couldn''t help but grimace. The anchor looked clumsy, uneven, and far from elegant. The issue was clear: his training in the Earth Ring Meditation technique only allowed him to compress mental energy into ring shapes. Still, Leonard brushed off the imperfection. "The basics are in place," he muttered to himself. "I can refine the shape later. If I can make circles, triangles, and straight lines won''t be far off." A sudden knock jolted him from his thoughts. *Knock, knock, knock.* Leonard opened his eyes and frowned. "Who is it?" "It''s me, Master," came David''s voice from outside. Leonard mentally activated a spell to verify the visitor''s identity. Sensing no signs of deception, he walked to the door, opened it slightly, and peered outside. "Come in," he said, stepping aside. As David entered, a pungent smell wafted into the room. "What on earth is that?" Leonard asked, his nose wrinkling as he noticed the bizarre object David held. "Good stuff, Master," David said with a sly grin, shutting the door behind him. "Let me explain." David recounted his experience in the mine. He had encountered strange monsters there, but creature that had been following them; a lizard-like beast, had devoured nearly every other monster before meeting its own gruesome end. What remained was now in David''s hands: half of the creature''s body. Leonard studied the bizarre remains. The creature''s head gleamed with a metallic sheen, as though encased in a smooth layer of artificial armor. Its back was fleshy and pink, segmented with faint golden rings. The lower half of the body had been savagely torn apart, exposing tender, pale flesh. Sticky, translucent liquid oozed from the wound instead of blood, an unsettling sight. "This... this isn''t natural," Leonard murmured, examining the metallic head. "It looks like something man-made. But why?" The creature exuded an eerie, almost unnatural energy that sent a shiver down Leonard''s spine. He couldn''t shake the feeling that there was more to this monster than met the eye. "Were you seen by anyone on your way here?" Leonard asked, turning to David. "No, I made sure to avoid everyone," David replied. "I can''t risk anyone seeing me in my current form. Humans would panic, and I don''t have the invisibility skills of that lizard." Leonard nodded, then refocused on the strange carcass. Despite its grotesque appearance, he felt a growing curiosity. Recently, his teacher''s lab notes had sparked a fascination with the unknown, and this creature seemed like the perfect subject for study. As he leaned closer, Leonard noticed how the creature''s insides were laid bare. The bite marks revealed soft, white tissue beneath the surface. Strangely, there was no blood, only a sticky, transparent liquid that oozed from its wounds. "This thing is unnatural," Leonard thought, his mind racing with possibilities. *What kind of creature is it? What secrets does it hold?* The room was silent save for the faint dripping of the creature''s ichor, but Leonard''s mind was alive with questions, and an undeniable urge to uncover the truth. Leonard carefully extracted a small sample of the strange liquid oozing from the creature and ran a quick test. To his relief, it wasn''t corrosive. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the monster''s head, tapping it lightly. The sound it made was indistinguishable from metal. As he examined further, he discovered a daisy-shaped mouthpart at the top of its head that could open wide. Inside were rows of silvery-white, razor-sharp teeth; harder than iron. Leonard tested them by pressing a button against the teeth, only to watch it pierce effortlessly. A chill ran down his spine as he realized the sheer strength of the monster''s natural weapons. David, crouched beside him, watched Leonard with awe. The precision and focus with which Leonard inspected the creature filled David with admiration. "This... this is what a real wizard does," David thought. It marveled at how Leonard was extracting every bit of value from the monster''s remains. "Good thing I didn''t eat it mindlessly like that lizard." "Master," David began, pointing at the monster''s fearsome teeth, "I saw it crawl out of the ground and eat half a person in a single bite." Leonard''s eyebrows arched. "You''re saying it moves quickly through the soil?" David nodded vigorously. Leonard rubbed his chin, lost in thought. Could it be a natural adaptation? Or was there something more, an enchantment on its skin, perhaps? He likened it to the giant lizard''s ability to turn invisible, a quality likely granted by some magical trait. His curiosity deepened as he continued to study the corpse. The more he inspected it, the stranger it seemed. The smooth, metallic sheen of the head and the seamless design of its anatomy gave him the unsettling impression that this creature wasn''t entirely natural. It bore the hallmarks of artificial creation; something akin to alchemy. Leonard''s mind wandered to the alchemy notes he''d read in his teacher''s lab. Stories of wizards using alchemy to modify monsters or create magical constructs surfaced. Alchemical golems were a known defense for wizard towers, preventing theft or interruption during sensitive experiments. Some wizards even established labs near valuable mineral deposits, transforming raw materials into endless streams of alchemical creations. Could this mine be connected to such an experiment? Leonard recalled that there was an iron mine near the town. The idea of a wizard using an iron mine for alchemical work seemed plausible, though odd. Iron was a humble resource; hardly ideal for grand experiments. Still, there was another possibility. Perhaps the monsters had always lived in the mine, their nest accidentally unearthed by workers. But that wouldn''t explain the artificial, human-like elements in their design. Was it possible the creatures had been sealed away, only to be inadvertently released? sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard''s eyes gleamed with intrigue as the pieces of the puzzle refused to fit neatly together. "Do you remember where that mine is?" Leonard asked, breaking his silence. David nodded. "I remember." "Good. Take me there," Leonard said, then paused. "But let''s find the lizard first. It might be dangerous to go with just the two of us." The lizard, despite its terrifying appetite, would significantly improve their chances of survival. Leonard wasn''t sure of its exact strength, but he was confident it far outmatched both him and David combined. David hesitated for a moment before adding, "Master... the lizard... it''s female." Leonard blinked. "Noted," he said with a faint smile. "All the more reason to convince her to help us." Chapter 20: A Lizard Named Serena! Chapter 20: A Lizard Named Serena!Leonard and David stepped out of the hotel, with Leonard carrying a flintlock pistol and ten rounds of ammunition. The weapon was far from efficient, after each shot, it required tedious cleaning before reloading with gunpowder and lead. But for now, ten shots seemed enough. David led him into the woods, weaving through dense trees until they stopped beneath a towering giant. Leonard glanced upward at the seemingly empty tree. Then, something remarkable happened. In his sight, ripples appeared in the air near the tree trunk. Slowly, an outline began to emerge; a massive form with translucent scales shimmering in silver-gray. As the creature fully materialized, Leonard found himself face-to-face with the lizard. Its orange-yellow eyes, slitted like a cat''s, fixed on him, radiating intelligence. The lizard tilted its head slightly, then spoke in a low, deliberate voice. "Leonard." Leonard blinked but recovered quickly. "Hello, big guy." The lizard''s eyes narrowed in thought before it shook its head. "I am not ''Big Guy.'' My name is Serena." ''It talks,'' Leonard thought, suppressing his surprise. And not only that, it seemed intelligent enough for meaningful conversation. "Hello, Serena," Leonard said, respecting the lizard''s self-identity. He decided not to question the name. The fact that it could communicate and seemed willing to engage was enough. "Can you accompany me to the mine?" he asked after a moment. "If you help me, I''ll cook for you in the future. I''m pretty good at it," he added, trying to appeal to the lizard''s appetite. Serena tilted her head again, considering the offer. She remembered that Leonard had been her feeder once, and she didn''t find his scent unpleasant. More importantly, she sensed the faint mark of Alfonso, a powerful being, on him. Without a word, Serena climbed down from the tree and began following Leonard. Her silence was answer enough. With a giant lizard in tow, Leonard felt a wave of relief. A formidable ally made the journey far less daunting. --- When they arrived at the mine, the area outside was eerily quiet. Scattered rocks dotted the ground, and bloodstains mingled with the dust, creating unsettling patches of color. Standing before the dark entrance, Leonard hesitated. He realized he''d made a rookie mistake, he hadn''t brought a torch. Just as he was about to curse his oversight, two faint beams of orange-yellow light illuminated the surroundings. Leonard turned to see Serena''s glowing eyes casting a dim but useful light. "Convenient," he muttered, leading the way as Serena and David followed close behind. The mine was deep and foreboding. Wooden support beams stretched across the tunnels, their surfaces splintered and aged. Candle holders with hardened wax clung to the walls, remnants of a time when miners worked here. The ground was littered with gravel and dust, crunching faintly underfoot. Before long, the tunnel split into a fork. Leonard frowned. He had assumed the mine would be straightforward, a quick exploration near the edge of town. But the fork complicated things. If there were multiple splits, he doubted he could finish this in one night, let alone understand the full layout. Serena broke his train of thought by moving decisively toward the left path. Surprised but trusting her instincts, Leonard followed, motioning for David to stay close. As they delved deeper, more forks appeared, but Serena chose a path without hesitation each time. The air grew heavier with each step, and the thick dust began to sting Leonard''s lungs, forcing him to hold his breath. Then, faint sounds began to echo from deeper within the mine. The noises were indistinct; a blend of distant movement and soft murmurs. Leonard tightened his grip on the flintlock, his nerves on edge. Whatever lay ahead was far from ordinary. As Leonard approached yet another fork in the mine, a sharp cracking sound from above froze him in place. Before he could react, a massive creature lunged at him, striking with lightning speed. David, trailing just behind, moved like a flash. With a powerful uppercut, her fist collided with the creature mid-air, creating a sharp whoosh of displaced air. ''Bang!'' The impact sounded like hitting a heavy sandbag, and the creature crashed to the ground with a thud. Leonard turned toward the commotion, catching sight of the monster under the faint orange glow of Serena''s eyes. The creature was a bloated, worm-like thing with a metallic head, wriggling frantically as it began to burrow into the ground. Within moments, it vanished, leaving behind a gaping black hole. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Serena, the giant lizard leading the group, spared the scene a glance before continuing forward. David turned to the lizard, puzzled. "Aren''t you going to eat it?" Serena responded in a low, human-like voice. "I''m not hungry." Leonard frowned at the casual dismissal. ''Not hungry? That''s not the point.'' The lizard''s indifference was unsettling. Tightening his grip on his staff, Leonard quickened his pace to stick closer to Serena. He couldn''t shake the feeling that if another attack came, the lizard might not be as reliable as he''d hoped. He resolved that if danger struck again, he''d scramble onto her back for safety without hesitation. As they ventured deeper into the mine, the air grew thinner, though still breathable. The oppressive atmosphere pressed down on Leonard, and an unsettling scent of blood began to waft through the tunnels. The ground felt different beneath his boots; soft, elastic in places. Suddenly, Leonard''s foot struck something. He looked down and found a pickaxe. Its handle was gripped by a severed, purple-blue hand. "This is it," Serena said, her deep voice breaking the silence. She stopped, raising her head and fixing her glowing pupils on a point ahead. Leonard followed her gaze and saw the end of the tunnel; a rock wall. Except... part of the wall wasn''t solid stone. A large hole had been excavated in its center, its jagged edges revealing the signs of human work. The floor was littered with rubble and crisscrossed with messy footprints. Moving closer, Leonard noticed something glittering at the edge of the hole. Squinting, he realized it wasn''t just a hole, it was a door. A door made entirely of gold. But it wasn''t intact. The massive golden door had been broken, and a gaping hole had been chiseled into its surface. The edges were rough, evidence of hurried, desperate work. Remembering the severed hand and pickaxe, a grim picture began to form in Leonard''s mind. "The miners must have discovered this golden door," Leonard muttered. "But they didn''t dare excavate openly, so they chipped away at it in secret. Day by day, they must have taken pieces out; until they broke through entirely." And when they did, they must have released whatever lay behind it. His gaze drifted to the ground, where the remnants of a worker''s hand still gripped the pickaxe. "Someone probably came back at night, trying to sneak more gold. That''s when the monsters emerged." Leonard stepped closer to the hole in the golden door. Beyond it, the cave yawned into darkness, impenetrable even to Serena''s glowing eyes. Whatever had been sealed behind this door wasn''t just treasure. It was a trap, and someone had sprung it. Chapter 21: Alchemy Laboratory! Chapter 21: Alchemy Laboratory!The hole in the golden door was small, just wide enough for a person to squeeze through. It seemed likely that the monsters had emerged from within. Leonard hesitated. The unknown dangers on the other side made him reluctant to move forward blindly. "Master, I''ll go ahead and scout," David offered, breaking the silence. Leonard frowned. Sending David into such uncertainty felt reckless, but someone had to lead. He opened his mouth to protest, but David cut him off with a grin, slapping his broad chest with a resounding thud. "I''m tough, Master. Don''t worry about me." Before Leonard could respond, Serena, the massive lizard, moved. With surprising speed, she spun around in the narrow cave, her tail raised high like a battering ram. ''Whoosh¡ª'' The air whistled as her tail struck the stone wall. A deafening crash followed, and the wall crumbled under the impact. Rubble scattered, and behind it, the rest of the golden door gave way, breaking into glittering fragments. The cave floor was now littered with chunks of gold and shattered stone. Leonard stared at the scattered treasure, his mind drifting to the miners. If they had managed to carry this gold out, they would''ve become wealthy, perhaps too wealthy for their own safety. He imagined the inevitable: jealous townsfolk, thugs breaking into their homes to steal it, and the gold eventually ending up in the coffers of some noble. David crouched beside him, eyes wide with disbelief. He reached out, his fingers brushing the glimmering metal. "It''s real," he muttered. "All gold." He had never seen so much wealth in his life. Memories surfaced, unbidden and unwelcome, as he stared at the treasure. He thought of his hometown, where rising food prices had forced him to raise the cost of bread. People had called him a vampire for "draining the poor," but no one dared criticize the nobles who sold wheat at exorbitant prices. One night, his bakery was ransacked. Flour, money, and bread; all stolen. Though the culprits had masked their faces, David recognized their fine leather boots, something no ordinary person could afford. That night, he''d understood the bitter truth of his town. He left with his wife soon after, seeking a better life in the port city of Bangor. David snapped back to the present as Serena moved into the newly exposed chamber. Beyond the collapsed wall lay a spacious, open cavern. Leonard and David followed closely behind the lizard. Suddenly, a black shape plummeted from above. Serena''s tail whipped up in an instant, swatting the falling creature aside. The body hit the wall with a sickening thud before collapsing to the ground. Leonard peered at it in the dim light. It was eerily similar to the worm-like monster they''d encountered earlier; bloated, with a metallic head. He tightened his grip on his staff, his pulse quickening. Whatever was waiting deeper in the cavern was far more dangerous than gold or shattered doors. The path beyond the stone wall was short, taking less than a minute to reach its end. Ahead, a faint light illuminated an awe-inspiring scene, leaving Leonard momentarily speechless. At the bottom of the mine, an otherworldly chamber unfolded before him. It was unlike anything one might expect to find underground. Directly in front of him was a golden-hued expanse emitting a dim glow, shimmering as if caught between reality and a dream. The effect was surreal, almost mirage-like. The Golden Gate stood as a silent testament to the alchemical prowess of its previous owner. Crafted entirely from gold, it was a peculiar inheritance left behind for the next inheritor. The reason for this unusual creation was simple; while the alchemical laboratory had once housed a vast collection of rare magical ores, the previous inheritor had squandered them all, leaving only the gold behind. Unable to find value in carrying the wealth with him, he decided to forge it into a grand door, leaving it as both a symbol of his power and a token of his legacy. Though Leonard lamented the absence of the magical ores, he couldn''t deny the usefulness of so much gold, beyond the gate was a laboratory of sort. Peering into the space, Leonard could make out shapes, what appeared to be the layout of a laboratory. There were tables, metal racks, and workbenches, their metallic surfaces faintly shadowed with a bluish hue. As he stepped closer, the details sharpened, coming into clearer focus, and it felt as if he could reach out and touch them. But then, without warning, the vision vanished, leaving only pitch darkness. Leonard stumbled back, startled. The scene reappeared the moment he retreated. "Projection magic?" he muttered, frowning. Yet, the image felt unnervingly real, as though it wasn''t merely a trick of the light or illusion. Next to him, Serena, the giant lizard, stared at the phenomenon with uncharacteristic intensity. After a pause, she spoke: "Communicate with mental power." Leonard turned to her, incredulous. ''Mental communication?'' That wasn''t something he''d mastered. It was akin to handing him a sword and asking him to fly. His teacher hadn''t even introduced this concept, and he felt a stab of frustration. ''Focus,'' he told himself. Leonard closed his eyes, attempting to center his mind. He poured his energy into meditating, hoping that would be enough to establish some form of connection. As his thoughts quieted, he noticed something peculiar in his spiritual sea. Beyond the central ground ring and the anchor at its edge, there was a flickering disturbance, an intermittent signal of sorts. It pulsed rhythmically, almost like... a Bluetooth signal, Leonard thought absurdly. The comparison felt ridiculous, but it was the closest analogy he could conjure. He reached out toward the flickering presence, allowing his mental energy to flow toward it. To his surprise, the connection established effortlessly. Like a faucet suddenly turned on, a torrent of information surged into his mind, overwhelming him. His brain throbbed under the weight of it, a sensation eerily similar to the time he had gained knowledge from the Mutation ritual, though this time, it left him slightly disoriented. After what felt like an eternity, the influx subsided, and Leonard slowly processed the flood of new understanding. He opened his eyes, his thoughts clearer, yet tinged with astonishment. "This is an ''Alchemy Laboratory,''" he murmured, the name resonating in his mind. The space wasn''t just a chamber; it was a foldable, portable laboratory, designed to be stowed away and moved. The laboratory''s first owner had been an alchemist. Leonard was now its third. Inside the space were basic alchemical tools and equipment, enough to facilitate a range of experiments. The possibilities were endless, and Leonard''s heart raced with excitement. ''This isn''t just a discovery, it''s a treasure.'' The first owner of the alchemy laboratory had been a third-level wizard apprentice, a skilled alchemist who met a tragic fate. Gravely injured in battle against a powerful foe, he fled to this hidden refuge, leaving behind his life''s work and a chilling request: for whoever inherited his legacy to seek vengeance against his enemies, should they have the strength. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Little was known about the second owner. Clues were scarce, but as Leonard explored the laboratory, he pieced together a story. Many of the rare materials and valuable artifacts that once filled the lab had deteriorated or been squandered. The choice of an iron mine as a base suggested the second owner was likely struggling financially, perhaps making do with limited resources. As Leonard delved deeper, his attention fell on an unusual object, a wall calendar resembling a clock, complete with a scale, pointer, and a striking red line running beneath it. The length of the red line corresponded to a specific year. Holding it, Leonard felt a strange weight settle on him. The calendar revealed that the alchemist who built this laboratory had died in the year 4121 of the Seventh Wizarding Calendar. ''What year is it now?'' Leonard wondered. His teacher, Alfonso, had never mentioned the current year explicitly, but his notes referenced a date: 4610. At that time, Alfonso was still a boy. This meant at least five centuries had passed since the original owner''s death. If the wizard''s enemy from so long ago hadn''t succumbed to age, they would almost certainly be a formidable formal wizard by now. Leonard sighed in relief at one silver lining: the request for vengeance wasn''t binding. The legacy encouraged the inheritor to seek justice only if they had the power; otherwise, their duty was simply to preserve the knowledge and pass it on. --- Leonard methodically inspected the laboratory. Amid the ruins, some treasures still remained. The most notable were the alchemical instruments, largely intact, and a small library of forty to fifty books tucked in a corner. As he sifted through them, Leonard noticed two distinct categories. The first group consisted of ancient tomes, their worn covers exuding an air of history. Most contained magical knowledge, with alchemy making up the largest portion. Among them, Leonard found a spellbook with three zero-ring spells; precious remnants of the first owner''s expertise. The second group was a collection of handwritten notes. The rough, clumsy penmanship and frequent typos hinted at the second owner''s amateurish nature. In the corner of the lab, Leonard''s gaze was drawn to a three-meter-tall, eggshell-shaped metal device. It was unmistakably handmade, with design drawings scattered on the nearby table. He studied the sketches and froze. The design was hauntingly familiar. It depicted a creature almost identical to the worm-like monster he''d encountered in the mine. A single name was scrawled across the paper: ''Iron Earthworm.'' The pieces clicked into place. The second owner had been the one to create the alchemical monsters that now roamed the mine. This "Iron Earthworm" was their handiwork, a creation born from desperation, ingenuity, or madness. The mystery was solved, but Leonard felt no satisfaction. Instead, a deep unease settled over him. The legacy of the second owner wasn''t just notes or tools; it was a living, dangerous problem crawling beneath the surface of the mine. Chapter 22: Alchemy Laboratory! Chapter 22: Alchemy Laboratory!Next to the design notes, Leonard found a detailed report on the Iron Earthworm; its specifications and creation process. --- S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. ''Iron Earthworm - Experimental Data - Average Length: 3.2 meters - Average Diameter: 1 meter - Strength: Slightly stronger than a Knight (Knight level) - Endurance: Exceptional, surpassing the level of a Great Knight - Reaction Speed: Comparable to a Knight - Straight-Line Speed: Poor¡ªunable to match a horse''s pace. (A frustrated scribble in the margin suggests the creator was furious about this.) - Tooth Hardness: Level 3 - Recovery Rate: Level 3 healing - Digestion Capacity: Level 2 digestion Production Materials: - 10kg of earthworms - 10kg of refined iron - 500g of yellow eye stone powder Production Method: Combine all materials in the Iron Earthworm prototype and follow detailed steps for assembly. Once the iron worm eggs are formed, place them near iron ore. The eggs will absorb nutrients from the ore and grow over a 30-day cycle. --- Leonard recognized some of the terms, particularly the hardness and recovery level. His teacher, Alfonso, had provided notes on these standards. In the wizarding world, level 3 hardness indicated high durability; materials of this grade could withstand high-intensity spells with little to no deformation. Zero-ring spells, for instance, would struggle to leave a mark. While the raw materials (earthworms and refined iron) were common, the real rarity lay in the yellow eye stone powder, an alchemical component Leonard wasn''t familiar with. From the data, the Iron Earthworm''s combat power seemed moderate. In a straightforward fight, its strength and endurance might be impressive, but its speed and reaction time were average. If David, with her brute strength and quick reflexes, had been fully armed, she could likely overpower the creature in direct combat. But battles were rarely so simple. The Iron Earthworm''s ability to burrow and attack from underground gave it a significant advantage in enclosed, complex terrain. Its stealth and ambush tactics made it far more dangerous than its raw stats suggested. In the right environment, it could be a deadly predator. As Leonard pondered the creature''s strengths, a new thought struck him: the Iron Earthworm''s creator must have developed a way to control it. Wizards creating alchemical constructs, mutated creatures, or servants always built in some form of failsafe, a secret method to subdue or command their creations. Such a safeguard would be invaluable. If Leonard could locate this "key," he''d not only neutralize the Iron Earthworms roaming the mine but potentially control them. For now, this knowledge was a treasure in itself, a critical advantage in navigating the dangers ahead. On the table lay a simple yet powerful object: a metal ring, unassuming but pivotal. It was the key to controlling the Iron Earthworms. All creatures produced by the alchemical instruments in this laboratory were naturally bound to this ring. Leonard picked it up, examining the intricate design. Ten small holes dotted the surface, but only two of them emitted a faint glow. Curious, he reached out with his mental power, establishing a connection. Instantly, he sensed the presence of two nearby units under the ring''s control. From these creatures, a singular emotion flowed back through the connection: ''fear.'' Leonard traced the source of their dread and realized it was directed at Serena, the massive lizard resting nearby. He turned to look at her. Serena''s body stretched over five meters long, her head raised nearly two meters high despite lying on the ground. Her presence was undeniably intimidating. "You can take this lab," Serena said unexpectedly, her deep voice breaking the silence. Leonard blinked, surprised. "You... know this is a laboratory?" he asked, his confusion mounting. Her rationality and apparent intelligence seemed to be growing with each interaction. Serena, however, offered no further explanation and began to leave the cave, her massive form disappearing into the darkness. Leonard stood still, his thoughts racing. He had always assumed Serena was simply a captured intelligent beast his teacher had kept as a pet or experiment. But this moment challenged that assumption. ''Why was she placed in the deepest part of the basement? And why does she seem... more logical every time we meet?'' A bold idea formed in his mind, but he set it aside for now. What mattered was that he owed Serena a feast, perhaps several; after everything she''d done. --- The alchemical laboratory held new promise for Leonard. With it, he could complete his daily studies and tasks in ways he hadn''t imagined. Slipping the metal ring onto his wrist, he tested its power. "Come here!" he commanded. A moment later, the ground cracked, and two Iron Earthworms emerged from the soil. They were as grotesque as he remembered, fat and segmented, with metallic heads that gleamed under the dim light. Through the ring, Leonard could feel their awe and submission. "You''ll follow me underground," he instructed. "Don''t surface unless I order you to." The Iron Earthworms immediately complied, burrowing back into the soil and disappearing without a sound. Leonard nodded, satisfied. Turning his attention to the shelves, Leonard''s gaze landed on a cube-shaped metal block sitting on the top layer. This, he realized, was the core of the alchemical laboratory; a compact device that controlled its essence. Carefully, he picked it up and focused his mental energy on the object. The moment his power connected, the cube began to rotate in his hand, its surface shifting subtly. A thin crack appeared, glowing faintly. It was as though the laboratory itself had begun to awaken under his touch. The cracks on the metallic cube spread and twisted, spinning like a mechanical Rubik''s Cube. The space around Leonard shimmered, like light breaking through a closed door, before transforming into a beam of green energy. This light was drawn into the Rubik''s Cube in his hands. Pouring more of his mental power into the device, Leonard watched as it rotated again, its surface shifting and splitting. A new beam of green light spilled out, expanding into a flat, surreal space that enveloped the area around him. With a few tests, Leonard confirmed the nature of this folded space. It was real but existed independently from the physical world. He identified two distinct modes of operation: 1. Hidden State: In this mode, the space became invisible to the outside world. No one could see or interact with it, and those within the space couldn''t observe the outside world either. However, the metal Rubik''s Cube still remained in the real world, leaving a potential vulnerability if someone recognized its function. 2. Open State: In this mode, the space became semi-transparent. Outsiders could see a portion of its interior but couldn''t enter unless Leonard allowed them. Similarly, those inside could observe the external environment, offering some situational awareness. Only those explicitly permitted by Leonard could cross into this space. The hidden state seemed safer at first glance, but Leonard was cautious. If a wizard could create such a folded space, they might also have the means to destroy or force entry into it. It wasn''t an impenetrable fortress, just a valuable tool for now. Leonard began storing the golden fragments from the shattered gate into the alchemical laboratory''s folded space. The gold was a fortune, enough to solve his financial worries for years to come. Satisfied, he pocketed the Rubik''s Cube and motioned for David to follow as they exited the cave. The return journey was easier than expected, with no need to navigate forks or hidden dangers. But halfway out, Leonard''s sharp ears picked up the sound of footsteps and voices echoing from deeper within the mine. Ahead, a group of eight men trudged through the dimly lit tunnel, their oil lamps casting flickering shadows on the walls. The smell of alcohol clung to them, and each carried a pickaxe in their hand. Leading them was a burly, authoritative man with a booming voice. "Are all those monsters gone?" he asked gruffly. A shorter man with a bald head and a scraggly red beard nodded nervously. "I saw a wingless dragon. It ate every last one of them." The mention of a dragon made Leonard tense, though he suspected the man was referring to Serena. "Why were there monsters in the mine to begin with?" the red-bearded man continued. "Did we open some kind of door sealing the devil?" "There''s no such thing as devils," the burly man growled, his voice dripping with disdain. "Poverty is the real devil." The men fell silent for a moment as he continued, his tone colder now. "Do you want to go back to those wretched, poor days we left behind?" The group mumbled their agreement, their pickaxes glinting ominously in the dim light. Leonard remained motionless, watching and listening, carefully deciding his next move. This was no ordinary mining crew, they seemed ready to fight for something they believed was theirs. Chapter 23: Massacre at the Mine! Chapter 23: Massacre at the Mine!The miners fell silent, their faces tense and pale. Despite their fear, greed had driven them here. "There''s something strange about that door deep underground," the burly man said, his voice gruff but controlled. "That''s why I warned you, don''t go breaking through it recklessly. Chisel it evenly, take only a little at a time. If you''re too greedy and try to take too much, you''ll get caught by the supervisor. And if that happens, none of us get anything!" The group nodded uneasily as they trudged deeper into the mine. None of them noticed a small metal Rubik''s Cube half-hidden among the rocks at the cave wall they passed. The burly man scanned the miners with narrowed eyes, irritation flickering in his expression. ''Idiots,'' he thought bitterly. ''Short-sighted fools tempted by a bit of gold.'' If only five miners hadn''t discovered the golden door at the same time, he would never have involved the others. But secrets like this were impossible to keep quiet. He''d warned them repeatedly to stay silent, yet word had spread. What had begun with five men had ballooned to nine. It was only a matter of time before someone blurted it out in drunken bravado or foolish trust. Most of the miners were locals, connected through family and friendships. The camaraderie of shared labor and the love of drinking bound them together and made them careless. The burly man hated drinking, but he forced himself to join their nightly gatherings just to keep an eye on them. But he knew the truth couldn''t be contained forever. With so many involved, it was only a matter of time before disaster struck. He''d been secretly hoarding gold for days, planning to flee once he had enough. With the riches he''d gathered, he could live comfortably anywhere. His wife and daughter? They would stay behind. Taking them would only slow him down. --- As the group reached the collapsed stone wall, their jaws dropped. The golden door, their secret treasure, was gone; reduced to rubble and dust. Some miners rushed forward, frantically clawing through the debris in disbelief. "Who came back and stole it?" someone shouted, their voice shrill with panic. Eyes darted around, turning suspicious. "You! I saw you slip out while we were drinking!" "You''re an idiot! I went to the toilet because I had diarrhea! There''s no way I could''ve run here and back that fast!" The accusations flew, escalating into a cacophony of anger and fear. The burly man pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration bubbling as the noise grated on him. He opened his mouth to calm them, but before he could speak, the ground beneath his feet gave way. --- He felt a sudden, sickening drop as the dirt and stones crumbled beneath him. His legs sank into something sticky and constricting. Instinctively, he threw his hands forward to brace himself. "What the¡ª" he started, but his voice was cut off by a searing pain in his chest. Gasping, he looked down and saw the jagged end of something sharp and metallic piercing through him. His breath hitched, panic rising. Above, a massive shape fell from the rock wall, blotting out the dim light. The thing slammed down with a wet, grotesque squelch. It was massive, writhing like a giant maggot. With horrifying efficiency, the creature engulfed the miner nearest to it, swallowing him whole. Blood trickled from the creature''s gaping mouthparts, dripping down its slimy, pulsating body. The burly man''s chest heaved, his body trembling. He tried to speak, but only a weak, guttural groan escaped his lips. The last thing he saw before his vision blurred was the writhing mass squirming in satisfaction, its grotesque feast completed. ------ The vast expanse of the blue sky stretched endlessly above, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the dark mine below. At the mine''s entrance, tension simmered as a grim crowd gathered; overseers, miners, and a scattering of curious onlookers. In the open space near the shaft, a chilling sight greeted them: severed body parts, ghastly remnants of a terror that had struck during the night. The air was thick with unease. The news of the attack had spread like wildfire in the small town. Rumors whispered of a monster lurking in the mine, responsible for the horrific deaths. Fear gripped the town like a vice, and many were desperate to escape. The wealthier families were already preparing to flee to neighboring towns or distant cities, hastily packing their belongings. For the poorer residents, escape was an unattainable dream. Moving required more than courage, it demanded resources: money for transport, a new home, and the cost of starting over. For them, the baron''s estate and the town''s fragile sense of stability were their only anchors. Better to endure the fear than face the uncertainty of the unknown. The arrival of a carriage broke the somber silence. It rolled forward, its polished wood glinting in the sunlight. Ornate bronze roses adorned the railings, a signature of the Baron Flo family. The overseer stiffened at the sight, recognizing the vehicle instantly. He straightened his posture, stepped away from the gathering, and moved toward the carriage with haste. The curtains of the carriage parted, and an elderly man emerged. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his white beard was as pristine as his composure. This was Butler Doint, a venerable figure who had served two generations of the Flo family. "Sir," the overseer greeted, bowing slightly. Doint offered a curt nod. "The Baron is aware of the... situation," he said, his voice measured. "Unfortunately, his health prevents him from addressing this personally, so he has entrusted me to handle matters here." The overseer hesitated. "Master Butler, the miners are terrified. They refuse to return to work. The rumor of a monster has spread across town, and¡ª" Doint raised a gloved hand, silencing him. "The Baron anticipated such resistance. He has already dispatched messengers to Munster to enlist priests and demon hunters. They will address the creature, but this does not absolve you of your responsibilities." "But, Master Butler, the miners¡ª" "No excuses," Doint interrupted firmly. "The iron mine is the economic lifeline of this town. Earl Hobbs expects his shipment by the end of the month, and the Baron''s reputation is at stake. Production must continue. Find a way." sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The overseer nodded reluctantly. "Understood." Doint''s gaze hardened. "There is one more matter. The Baron has heard of families attempting to flee the town. This is unacceptable. The townsfolk are his subjects, and none may leave without his explicit permission. Ensure the sheriffs enforce this decree." "Yes, sir." Meanwhile, on the southern road leading out of town, a group of sheriffs stood watch. A thick wooden barricade spanned the road, and the sheriffs scrutinized every passerby. Armed with flintlocks and swords, they stopped anyone who appeared suspicious. An elderly man driving a small cart approached, his face lined with worry. The sheriff in charge stepped forward, blocking his path. "Roddick, from the tailor''s shop, isn''t it? Where are you heading with all this?" the sheriff demanded, gesturing toward the cart piled high with goods. Roddy wrung his hands nervously. "Just to the city to buy more cloth, sir. My stock is nearly depleted." The sheriff frowned. "No one is to leave town. Orders from the Baron." "But I''m only¡ª" "No exceptions," the sheriff snapped. "Turn back." Roddy hesitated but eventually turned his cart around, muttering under his breath. Behind him, the sheriffs continued their inspections. Even merchants heading south were stopped and subjected to rigorous checks. Not a single tuft of dog hair on passing carts escaped their notice. The Baron''s grip on the town was tightening, and fear of both the monster and the nobility loomed large over the townspeople. The mine''s shadow was no longer the darkest thing in town. Chapter 24: Crossing the Checkpoint! Chapter 24: Crossing the Checkpoint!In the distance, the slow rhythm of hooves on the dirt road heralded the arrival of a carriage. Kenny, gripping the reins tightly, couldn''t hide the furrow of concern etched across his face as the security gate ahead came into view. The barricade, manned by armed sheriffs, was an all-too-familiar sight to him. He sighed. The noble families in this region acted as unchecked tyrants, ignoring the kingdom''s decrees. Decades earlier, the "Citizenship Decree" had been issued to grant all tax-paying, law-abiding individuals the rights and protections of citizenship, broadening what had once been an exclusive privilege of nobles and powerful elites. It was a momentous step for the kingdom, securing the loyalty of its growing middle class. Yet here, in remote territories controlled by old and stubborn nobles, such decrees were meaningless. To many lords, commoners remained nothing more than their personal property. The sheriff stationed at the gate, a rotund man with a ruddy face and a swagger that exuded self-importance; was a living example of this feudal arrogance. "Stop right there," the sheriff barked, his small, calculating eyes scanning Kenny. He leaned on his musket, assessing both the driver and the carriage. Kenny swallowed hard. "Sir, I''m just a traveler passing through," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. The sheriff narrowed his gaze. "Passing through, are you? I don''t recognize you. Not from this town, are you?" He scratched his stubbly chin. "Strangers always come with opportunities, don''t they?" His lips curled into a greedy smirk. "Check the carriage," he ordered, waving at a short, burly deputy standing nearby. The man stepped forward, musket raised menacingly, and aimed it at Kenny. "Move aside, old man," the deputy growled. "If you don''t, I''ll make sure you don''t move again." Kenneth raised his hands in appeasement. "Everyone inside is a guest, sir. They mean no trouble." "I''ll be the judge of that," the sheriff snapped. "Open it up." S~ea??h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Inside the carriage, Leonard sat calmly by the window, leafing through a notebook. Next to him, his teacher, Alfonso, remained unmoved, his eyes closed as if utterly indifferent to the commotion. Leonard glanced at him and sighed. It was clear that dealing with the rabble was now his responsibility. If he didn''t act, the sheriffs would only grow bolder, and Alfonso''s eventual ire would surely fall on him. Leonard adjusted his cuffs, leaned out, and lifted the curtain with an air of composed confidence. His youthful face, framed by sharp features and piercing eyes, caught the sheriff off guard for a moment. "Good afternoon, sir. We are simple travelers heading south from the north. This town is not our home," Leonard explained, his voice smooth and polite. The sheriff''s eyes narrowed. "You seem awfully well-dressed for ''simple travelers.'' Let''s have a look inside." Leonard''s lips twitched into a faint, disarming smile. "The man inside is my teacher. He''s elderly and in poor health. We''d appreciate your understanding." He extended a hand holding several silver coins, the faint clink of metal catching the sheriff''s attention. The sheriff took the coins greedily, his fingers deftly weighing them. "Hmph. Seven, eight coins... not bad." His gaze lingered on Leonard with suspicion. "You''re not nobles, then, are you? Doesn''t seem like enough coin for that. But you''ve got the look of someone trying to hide something." Leonard''s expression didn''t waver. "We are merely travelers, nothing more." The sheriff smirked, arrogance creeping back into his demeanor. "Let''s see about that. You might look noble, but around here, you play by ''my'' rules. Open the curtains now." Leonard sighed inwardly but maintained his poise. "Of course," he said, retreating into the carriage. He reached for his staff, his fingers tightening around the smooth wood. From his position, he peered out through a gap in the curtain, eyes fixed on the sheriff. With a whisper under his breath, he summoned a silent ''spiritual shock''. The top of his staff began to glow faintly, the light pulsing stronger with each passing second. Outside, the sheriff sneezed suddenly, his body jerking as if struck by a sudden chill. He rubbed his nose and glanced around, confused. "What the¡ª?" Leonard smirked, his calm mask slipping just slightly to reveal a flicker of satisfaction. "Now," he murmured, his voice low but resolute. Unseen and silent, a wave of invisible force rippled from the carriage, slicing through the curtain to strike the sheriff''s captain squarely. The man''s body jolted violently as if struck by an unseen sledgehammer. His spine stiffened unnaturally, his eyes wide with shock and confusion, before he dropped to his knees with a thunderous crack. The sound of kneecaps colliding with gravel echoed ominously, yet the captain showed no sign of pain. His face was frozen in an expression of blank terror, as though some unseen horror had gripped his soul. The other sheriffs stood paralyzed, their minds scrambling for an explanation. What had just happened? Their captain, a man of crude arrogance, was now kneeling, motionless. The pudgy deputy with short eyebrows, who had been the loudest moments ago, felt unease creep up his spine. Then the curtain of the carriage was drawn aside, and the young man leaned out once more. Leonard''s presence seemed unchanged; calm, even polite, but there was something in his eyes now. The gentle smile on his lips was at odds with the cold, calculating glint in his gaze. In his hand, a black wooden staff hummed with energy, its top swirling with a ball of liquid, viscous and glimmering like molten glass. The liquid expanded, floating for a brief moment before streaking through the air. It landed amidst the gathered sheriffs, detonating with a sharp hiss. Acid sprayed in every direction. Screams erupted as the corrosive substance gnawed into flesh and fabric alike. The sheriffs writhed on the ground, their cries of agony cutting through the still air. Once arrogant and domineering, they were now helpless, clawing at the earth in a futile attempt to escape the burning pain. Leonard stepped down from the carriage with deliberate calm, his boots crunching softly on the gravel. A musket was slung casually over his shoulder, his grip firm as he approached one of the fallen men still gasping for breath. Without hesitation, Leonard leveled the musket at the man''s head and pulled the trigger. ''Bang!'' The crack of the shot was deafening, echoing across the road. Leonard moved to the next man, repeating the motion with chilling precision. ''Bang!'' ''Bang!'' When the musket failed to fire; perhaps from damp powder or sheer overuse, Leonard''s expression didn''t shift. He reversed the gun, gripping the barrel, and brought the butt down hard on the man''s skull. The crunch of bone followed, and blood splattered across the ground. Finished with the task, Leonard crouched, grabbing a discarded cloth from one of the bodies. With meticulous care, he wiped the blood and grime from his boots before systematically stripping the dead of their weapons, ammunition, and coins. His demeanor was as unbothered as if he had been collecting firewood, not looting corpses. Returning to the carriage, Leonard climbed in as though nothing had happened. "Let''s continue," he said in a calm, almost gentle tone. Kenny, who had witnessed the entire scene, was visibly shaken. His hands trembled as he clutched the reins, and he dared not even light his usual cigarette. Covering his eyes with his hands, he whispered a silent prayer. ''What have I gotten myself into? I''ll never make it out of this alive...'' Without another word, he urged the horses forward, the carriage lurching as they resumed their journey south. --- From a hidden vantage point on a nearby hillside, a figure watched the scene unfold. Lauren, concealed behind a makeshift curtain robe, waited until the carriage disappeared into the distance. Then, turning to the shadowy woods behind him, he asked casually, "Hungry? Should I bring you something to eat?" The trees responded with nothing but the rustling of leaves, carried by a faint breeze. Lauren shook his head and sighed, dragging the bodies of the sheriffs one by one into the woods. He worked quickly, erasing evidence of the carnage from the road. As he finished clearing the scene, the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. Lauren ducked into the underbrush, vanishing from sight. --- Inside the carriage, Leonard was silent, seated opposite his teacher, Alfonso. The older man, who had been meditating with his eyes closed throughout the confrontation, finally stirred. "Well handled," Alfonso said, his voice calm but carrying an edge of approval. Leonard closed his notebook and straightened. "I didn''t want them disturbing you, Teacher," he said respectfully. Alfonso gave him a sidelong glance, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. "You''ve grown skilled at taking initiative. However, there''s still a lesson in restraint." Leonard''s expression tightened. "Teacher, there''s something I need to tell you about last night." "I already know," Alfonso replied, his tone deliberately enigmatic. "I wondered if you would mention it." Leonard hesitated, his composure slipping slightly. "Then... I assume you approve?" "It''s an alchemy laboratory," Alfonso said, leaning back. "What you find there is yours to keep. Consider it your harvest." "Yes, Teacher," Leonard said, bowing his head. Though his expression was subdued, a flicker of relief passed through his eyes. ''Of course, the Teacher already knew. There is little he doesn''t know.'' Chapter 25: Teacher’s Advice! Chapter 25: Teacher''s Advice!The rhythmic jostling of the carriage over uneven ground provided a steady backdrop as Alfonso gazed out of the window. His voice, when it came, was calm yet introspective. "If I had been as cautious as you are now, perhaps those... events might have turned out differently." Leonard, seated across from him, looked up, intrigued by the rare hint of regret in his teacher''s tone. "You''re about to explore the gains from an alchemy laboratory," Alfonso continued, his voice returning to its usual measured cadence. "There will undoubtedly be books and knowledge within. But let me remind you; human energy is finite. Even if you are not entirely human, your capacity has its limits. Focus is essential. Master one or two disciplines before spreading yourself too thin." Alfonso leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. "This discipline will serve you well in the future." Leonard nodded earnestly, though the full weight of Alfonso''s words eluded him. He knew enough to trust his teacher''s wisdom. Whatever Alfonso said, no matter how cryptic, always had its purpose. As the carriage rolled deeper into the Sage Flitwick Mountains, the road grew more treacherous. The once-gentle slopes gave way to rocky inclines, and the trees on either side towered higher, their dense canopies casting long, black shadows across the path. The world outside seemed to close in, the thick forest turning the road into a tunnel of twilight. Kenny, ever watchful, pulled the carriage to a halt in a small clearing. The horses snorted and stomped nervously, their breath misting in the cool mountain air. Kenneth climbed down, stretching his stiff limbs before wrapping himself in the threadbare blanket he kept under his seat. He gathered some dry wood from the roadside and, with practiced efficiency, lit a small fire. Glancing nervously at the carriage, Kenneth called out, "Sir, would you like to come and warm yourself by the fire?" No response came from within. The carriage remained still and silent, its windows dark. Kenneth hesitated, then turned back to his fire. He rubbed his hands together over the flickering flames, muttering under his breath. He didn''t dare press the matter further. The mysterious wizard in the carriage controlled his fate, and Kenneth knew better than to overstep. Inside the carriage, all seemed empty; save for a peculiar object resting on the seat. A metal Rubik''s Cube, its intricate etchings gleaming faintly in the dim light, sat undisturbed. In truth, the carriage was not as empty as it appeared. --- The alchemy laboratory, concealed within the folding space of the Rubik''s Cube, was cramped and chaotic. Experimental equipment lay scattered across tables, and loose drafts covered nearly every available surface. Leonard stood amidst the clutter, feeling a mix of awe and exasperation. He hadn''t had the chance to clean up after last night''s hurried exploration. In one corner, Alfonso sat on a narrow bed, engrossed in a book. The elder wizard''s calm presence seemed out of place in the disordered lab. Leonard had politely asked earlier if Alfonso wanted to enter the folding space, half-expecting his aloof teacher to decline. To his surprise, Alfonso had agreed without hesitation. Now, as the man read in silence, Leonard couldn''t help but wonder why such a seasoned wizard showed no particular interest in the space itself. ''Does the teacher lack such a tool? Or is it simply too mundane for him?'' Leonard mused. Turning his attention to the mess, Leonard began organizing the lab. He arranged the equipment methodically, wiping down surfaces and stacking papers. It took hours of labor, but finally, the space was clean and orderly. As he finished, a faint notification flashed in the corner of his vision: "Daily Task Completed: Clean the Laboratory (II). Keep the laboratory tidy. Completion: Pass. S§×ar?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Reward: 10 general experience points." Leonard blinked at the message. ''Why (II)?'' he wondered. ''Before, it was always (I).'' Perhaps it was because this lab was now truly his, or maybe its advanced nature made it distinct from the temporary setups he had used in the past. The reward brought his total experience points to 100. Leonard paused, considering his options. Upgrading his level seemed the most logical choice. Increased levels improved physical stamina, mental strength, and most importantly; meditation efficiency. Even a modest 10% boost to meditation could yield exponential benefits over time. Still, a part of him itched with curiosity. The alchemy texts in the lab promised knowledge beyond what he had studied so far. Alchemy, after all, had produced marvels like the iron earthworm, a creature he could only dream of creating. But Leonard tempered his ambitions. He hadn''t even finished his studies in mutation yet. The thought of building monstrous constructs like a "Hulk" assembly line amused him, but such projects could wait. The knowledge wasn''t going anywhere. Leonard glanced at Alfonso, who coughed softly and turned a page in his book. The teacher''s presence was both a comfort and a reminder: discipline first, indulgence later. --- Outside, the fire crackled quietly, and Kenny huddled close, still uneasy from the day''s events. As the mountain winds whispered through the trees, the wizard''s calm voice drifted out of the carriage. "Keep moving," Leonard instructed. Kenneth gulped and nodded, hastily dousing the fire. As he climbed back onto the driver''s seat, a single thought dominated his mind: ''Survive tonight, Kenny. Just survive.'' --- High on a nearby ridge, a figure emerged from the shadows. Lauren watched the carriage roll away, the faint glow of its lanterns disappearing into the dense forest. He muttered to himself, "Always cleaning up after others..." Then, dragging the bodies of the fallen sheriffs into the woods, he continued his grim task, listening for the faintest sound of approaching footsteps. Back in the folding space, Leonard''s thoughts lingered on Alfonso''s earlier remark. ''If I had been as cautious as you...'' The words carried weight, a glimpse into the enigmatic teacher''s past. "Teacher," Leonard began cautiously, "I wanted to tell you about what happened last night." Alfonso closed his book and regarded Leonard with a knowing expression. "I already know," he said simply. "I was curious if you''d admit it." Leonard''s heart skipped a beat. "Then... you''re not angry?" Alfonso''s lips curved faintly. "An alchemy lab is indeed a valuable find. What you gain from it is yours to keep. Use it wisely." Leonard lowered his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, Teacher." Though his face was calm, Leonard''s mind buzzed with possibilities. Whatever lay ahead, he would be ready. The Laboratory was quiet, the only sound being the occasional rustle of a turning page. Leonard sat at his desk, trying his best to focus, but his thoughts wandered as he glanced at his teacher, Alfonso, sitting nearby. Alfonso''s sharp gaze, even when directed at his book, felt like it could pierce through any pretense. Leonard sighed inwardly. Despite having Alfonso close by, watching over his progress, he hadn''t dared to improve his level right under the teacher''s nose. After all, there were risks. Sudden bursts of mental power that came with leveling up might manifest in strange ways, and the rapid improvement in physical abilities could lead to anomalies difficult to explain. No one had experimented with these effects in such conditions before, and Leonard wasn''t confident he could hide anything from Alfonso''s watchful eyes. Once the lesson ended, Leonard set about tidying the cluttered laboratory. With a bit of effort, the space looked considerably better. As he arranged books on the shelf, something caught his attention: a small, unassuming notebook. Intrigued, he opened it and discovered it contained the writings of the laboratory''s second owner. Self-reflective notes, musings, and observations filled its pages. Leonard smirked. It seemed almost every wizard he encountered had a penchant for writing diaries or journals. Was it the nature of their profession? Or perhaps something else entirely? Chapter 26: Dairy of a Wizard! Chapter 26: Dairy of a Wizard!"Which self-respecting person enjoys writing a diary?" Leonard thought with an inward chuckle. But as he flipped through the notebook, his amusement gave way to understanding. Wizards were, by their very nature, solitary creatures. Their work and pursuit of knowledge often isolated them from others, leaving them with few to confide in. Writing, then, became a natural outlet; a way to converse with themselves, to document their thoughts, discoveries, and sometimes, mundane reflections. He mused further. These diaries rarely contained private secrets; wizards guarded those with their lives. Instead, they were repositories of daily routines, research observations, and traces of the writer''s existence. They often hid them away in secret places, only to be discovered under unusual circumstances, such as death or disappearance. For wizards, these records were more than personal accounts, they were legacies, a testament to their existence. There was a quiet pride in this. Wizards, as extraordinary beings dabbling in the scientific unknown, often placed themselves at the pinnacle of intellectual society. Even if they vanished, their works, experiments, and wisdom would endure, leaving an indelible mark on the path of truth. Leonard, now learning the ways of a wizard himself, found it increasingly easy to understand this mindset. His gaze drifted back to Alfonso, seated across the room. The man who had guided him onto this path of magic and knowledge, who had pulled him from the mundane life of a powerless commoner. Lost in thought, Leonard let his gaze linger a moment too long. "Why are you staring at me?" Alfonso asked suddenly, not even looking up from his book. His voice carried its usual calm, authoritative tone, but there was a faint frown on his face. Startled, Leonard quickly averted his gaze. "I was just... thinking how lucky I am to have met you, teacher," he said earnestly. Alfonso didn''t respond immediately, turning a page instead. Leonard took the silence as permission to continue. "If I hadn''t met you, I''d still be just another commoner, struggling to survive under the thumb of the sheriff or some arrogant noble. Even with my talent in magic, there wasn''t much I could do against the weight of this world''s hierarchy." It was true. In this society, power wasn''t just physical; it was entrenched in class. Nobles ruled with impunity; they needed no justification to take a civilian''s life, only a fine to smooth it over. Justice was reserved for their peers, judged by the House of Nobles alone. Wealthy merchants, too, owed their success to noble affiliations. For commoners, advancement was a near-impossible dream. That''s why, after awakening the memories of his past life, Leonard hadn''t immediately tried to profit from his knowledge. Six months of observation had taught him that knowledge alone wasn''t enough to overcome systemic oppression. He''d persuaded his family to move to Bangor Port, a place rumored to be more progressive, with the hope of finding new opportunities. At the time, he had thought of exploring the wider world, searching for a land where rigid class divisions didn''t dictate one''s destiny. But meeting Alfonso had changed everything. The path of a wizard was one he hadn''t considered, and though it was fraught with danger and uncertainty, it excited him in ways he couldn''t fully explain. Alfonso finally broke the silence. Without looking up, he said in his usual cryptic tone, "Fate has already marked the price of all gifts. Gratitude is unnecessary." Leonard smiled faintly. He was used to Alfonso''s enigmatic words. They always felt like riddles, laden with meaning just out of reach. "Well, it doesn''t matter," he replied. "I''m grateful because I choose to be. Whether you accept it or not is your business." Alfonso didn''t respond, but Leonard thought he saw the faintest flicker of something; approval? in the teacher''s otherwise unreadable expression. Leonard flipped through the notes, his fingers brushing against the worn pages. Each word he deciphered, coupled with the battered dictionary tucked away in the corner of the bookshelf, began to weave a story in his mind. It wasn''t a complete picture, more like fragmented pieces of a puzzle, but enough to sketch a faint image. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. It told the story of an orphan. This boy, despite his poor circumstances and the cruelty of an uncle and aunt who treated him as little more than a burden, was gifted with the rare talent of a wizardry. By sheer chance, he inherited a wizard''s legacy, an event that changed the trajectory of his life. The boy''s personality was resilient and spirited, a mixture of toughness and warmth. Every night, he would sneak into the inherited space to learn the secrets of witchcraft. As he grew older and his skills matured, he left his uncle and aunt behind, stepping into the wider world to find his path. His journey eventually led him to a fateful meeting with the youngest daughter of an earl. The two fell deeply in love, but societal divisions proved an insurmountable barrier. Their love, though true, was torn apart by their differing statuses. Then war came. Driven by a desire to obtain a noble title and, with it, the chance to marry his beloved, the young man joined the battlefield. Using his burgeoning alchemical talents, he made a name for himself. His ingenuity became a key element in the kingdom''s triumph over its enemies. When the war ended, the kingdom of Erdoru celebrated its victory, and the king rewarded his heroes generously. But tragedy struck on the way back from the celebration. Ambushed by assassins, the young alchemist barely escaped with his life, using a hidden trump card. Gravely wounded, he fled to an iron mine, where he resolved to gather his strength for revenge. The notes were heavy with his uncertainty; whether he would live to fulfill his vengeance was unclear. Yet, even in his despair, he left behind something meaningful: an alchemical laboratory, his life''s work, and a chance for someone else to carry forward the knowledge that had changed his own destiny. As Leonard read, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The story had a traditional arc, rags to riches, love, loss, revenge. But there were loose ends, questions left unanswered. Did the second wizard ever succeed in his revenge? The notes gave no closure, and Leonard suspected the answer was no. Failure seemed more likely. Then there was the reference to the two kingdoms involved in the war. One of them, Erdore, was the very kingdom Leonard now lived in. He recalled hearing about a war centuries ago, when Erdore had reclaimed southern lands. That must have been over two hundred years ago, though; surely all those who fought in that war were long dead. But something nagged at him. If the second wizard had failed to return, his revenge likely never came to fruition. Yet, his work, particularly the iron earthworm described in the notes; must have been witnessed by someone. Perhaps the alchemical creature had been recorded in the collections of nobles or scholars. His thoughts were interrupted by a soft rustle. Alfonso had approached the desk and was now examining the production drawings of the iron earthworm. His teacher''s expression was unreadable, but he gave a slight shake of his head. "Not bad," Alfonso said in his usual calm tone. "It takes some talent to produce something like this under the conditions described." He paused, then added, "Though alchemy isn''t my specialty, I''ve studied enough to recognize the principles at play here." Alfonso placed the drawing back on the desk and clasped his hands behind his back. "Remember this, Leonard: no matter the branch of wizardry, the true key to success lies in focus and refinement. A wizard''s work must excel in at least one area, be it lethality, reconnaissance, production efficiency, camouflage, or even cost-effectiveness. A masterpiece always has a defining feature." He gestured at the diagram. "Mediocrity, on the other hand, has no place in our craft. A mediocre creation is a useless creation, because wizards have the capacity to study and innovate endlessly. Why waste time on something average?" Leonard set the notes down, giving his full attention to his teacher''s words. Alfonso pointed at the diagram again, his voice measured. "The iron earthworm, for instance, has one saving grace: the materials needed for its production are easy to gather." He tapped the page lightly. "The Yellow Eye Stone. A common mineral with magical properties, particularly an affinity for earth. In the wizarding world, ten kilograms of its powder costs only a single magic stone. This makes it an economical choice. However, the creature itself is unimpressive; more a magical beast than a true monster. It has no innate spells and limited combat capability. Its one notable feature is its ability to burrow through soil, thanks to the Yellow Eye Stone mixed into its structure." Alfonso straightened, his gaze distant. "It''s functional, but uninspired." Leonard absorbed the lecture in silence, but one word from Alfonso lingered in his mind: ''wizarding world''. Was Alfonso using it as a mere phrase, or did it signify something more specific, a place, a society? He hesitated, then decided not to ask. Alfonso''s answers often led to more questions, and Leonard wasn''t sure he was ready for another of his teacher''s riddles just yet. Chapter 27: Improvements! Chapter 27: Improvements!Leonard listened intently as Alfonso spoke, his teacher''s tone calm but deliberate. "But remember," Alfonso began, gesturing towards the diagram of the iron earthworm on the table, "this is not a spell. It''s merely an innate characteristic of the creature. The iron earthworm can burrow through soil, but only soil that lacks magical properties. The moment it encounters earth infused with magic, its movement slows drastically. And if faced with something like the Earth Solidification Spell, which compresses the ground into a nearly unbreakable form, it''s as good as trapped. Like an insect fossilized in amber." Alfonso''s eyes narrowed slightly. "This creation has its uses against ordinary people, but it''s no match for seasoned professionals. Against them, it''s little more than a distraction." Leonard nodded, his expression serious, but Alfonso continued, his voice adopting a faint trace of pride. "Alchemy, especially at your apprentice stage, has its limitations. It''s difficult to produce creations truly capable of combat. But as you delve deeper into your studies, you''ll come to understand that mutation science far surpasses alchemy in versatility and potential. The puppets made by alchemy are dull, rigid constructs following the simplest of commands. Complex tasks, nuanced goals; these are beyond their comprehension. Mutation science, however..." Alfonso paused, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Mutation science thrives on adaptability." "I understand, teacher," Leonard said, his voice firm. "I''ll dedicate myself to mastering mutation science." Alfonso gave a curt nod, satisfaction evident in his eyes. "Good. Study diligently." Without another word, Alfonso raised his right hand, his skeletal fingers moving with an almost unnatural precision. A portal shimmered into existence before him, a perfect circle of pulsating light. Alfonso stepped through, his figure vanishing as the portal closed with a faint hum. Leonard exhaled once the room returned to silence. He carefully placed the diary back on the shelf, his mind churning with thoughts. Was Alfonso jealous that he had shown interest in knowledge from other systems? Or perhaps the teacher simply wanted to reinforce the value of their own craft. He shook his head, clearing the doubts. Regardless, Leonard''s resolve remained unshaken. He would master both mutation science and alchemy. But for now, mutation science would take priority. With Alfonso as his guide, he had access to a wealth of knowledge and someone to help him navigate its complexities. "Alchemy is for the wealthy," Leonard murmured to himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Mutation science is for the resourceful." Alchemy''s very name, with its golden connotations, spoke to its costliness. Without materials, there was no alchemy, and Leonard''s current resources were far from abundant. Mutation science, on the other hand, offered a path of ingenuity, requiring less material wealth and more creativity. Leonard settled into a cross-legged position on the ground, closing his eyes to begin his nightly meditation. This was a ritual he never missed. During the day, traveling in carriages made it difficult to meditate, so his nights were devoted to this discipline, with a small portion reserved for practicing the sleeping spell. As he steadied his breathing, his eyes flickered open briefly, and his focus shifted inward. ''Properties.'' He silently activated the upgrade, and a surge of energy coursed through him. --- ''Leonard'' ''Level:'' Level 3 (0/100) ''Physical Fitness:'' 1.62 ''Mental Strength:'' 3.6 ''Mastery:'' ¡ª Earth Ring Meditation (10%) ''Life Occupation:'' ¡ª Level 1 Mutation Science (10%) (0/10) ¡ª Level 1 Blood Science (1%) (0/10) ''General Experience:'' 0 --- The numbers on his status board flickered as strength bloomed in his body. Every muscle, every bone felt renewed, as if an untapped reservoir of power had been unlocked. For a fleeting moment, Leonard entertained the illusion that he could crush a boulder with his bare hands or fell a cow with a single punch. He chuckled softly at the absurdity. Rationally, he knew the increase was far more modest, a mere 22.7% improvement in his physical fitness, from 1.32 to 1.62. Yet the cumulative impact of such growth far exceeded the raw numbers. Strength, reflexes, and stamina; all had received a meaningful boost. But physical strength was only a byproduct of his advancement. The real prize lay in the sharpened clarity of his mind. As he resumed his meditation, he felt his mental processes quicken, his thoughts flowing like a clear stream rather than the sluggish trickle of before. His meditation, too, became smoother, more efficient. He could almost see the eleventh Earth Ring beginning to form in his mind''s eye. Two hours later, his progress faltered. The ring began to collapse, its structure unstable, and Leonard opened his eyes, exhaling in frustration. But he wasn''t discouraged. He had made far more progress today than he expected. At this rate, he could condense the eleventh Earth Ring in just another day or two, far sooner than his original estimate of three or four. "Progress," he muttered, the word carrying a sense of quiet satisfaction. However, as Leonard sat there, a realization crept over him. Each successive Earth Ring was becoming harder to form, the challenge growing exponentially with each step. The path forward would be steep, but Leonard welcomed it. The difficulty was proof of his growth, and he relished the feeling of climbing higher, one deliberate step at a time. The difficulty of condensing Earth Rings became glaringly apparent to Leonard. With every ten rings, the effort required seemed to double, making progress feel like an uphill battle against an ever-steeper slope. Based on his previous abilities, Leonard estimated it would take at least two years to condense all the Earth Rings, and that was under optimal conditions. But things were different now. His recent improvements in level had also brought subtle changes to his qualifications, a steady enhancement that made meditation more efficient with each advancement. Though the gains were small, they added up, compounding over time. Leonard wasn''t entirely certain what affected meditation efficiency, he referred to it loosely as "aptitude." It was clear, however, that the increased upper limit of his mental strength directly benefited from meditation, whether tied to aptitude or not. Either way, it was a net positive. --- For the next two days, Leonard settled into a disciplined routine: reading, meditating, and refining his understanding of the Sleeping Spell. Each day, he devoted three focused hours to constructing its intricate framework, painstakingly building one node at a time. The spell required 47 nodes in total, and though it was tedious work, the progress was tangible. The days passed slowly but steadily, marked by the rhythm of his quiet study. Meanwhile, their carriage driver, Kenny, gradually eased out of his initial panic. On the first day, he''d been visibly tense, fearful that Leonard or his companion might silence him to protect their secrets. But as time went on, and neither wizard showed any inclination toward harm, Kenny''s nerves began to settle. His respect for the pair grew, and he drove the carriage with renewed diligence, determined to deliver his "distinguished passengers" safely to their destination. --- On the third day, they arrived at Maple Leaf Town, a remote settlement nestled in the mountains. Their journey took them to a rundown hut perched on a secluded slope. There, an imposing entourage awaited: twelve knights clad in gleaming iron armor, forming a protective circle around an elderly man dressed in a brown linen robe. The old man''s hair was streaked with gray, his black beard flecked with silver. He carried himself with a quiet authority, his sharp eyes betraying a mind steeped in wisdom and power. The old man approached the decrepit hut and extended his hands, revealing a crystal ball. Holding it aloft, he muttered a string of incantations, his voice low and rhythmic. The crystal ball floated free from his palm, rising into the air. As his chanting intensified, the ball began to glow faintly, and an image shimmered into view on its surface. The scene within the crystal ball mirrored the hut before them, but from a bird''s-eye view, as if the orb had become the eyes of an unseen watcher. The perspective shifted, moving from static to dynamic, the timeline accelerating unnaturally, like a reel of film on fast-forward. The old man''s voice deepened as the spell reached its crescendo. His hair turned from gray to stark white, frost forming along the strands. Wrinkles at the corners of his eyes etched deeper into his face, new lines carving themselves into his features with unnatural speed. The image within the crystal ball cycled through days and nights in rapid succession until, abruptly, it froze. Three shadowy figures appeared in the hut''s yard. Their faces, however, were obscured by a thick, unnatural mist, rendering them indistinct. "Three people," said a knight standing beside the old man. His voice was sharp, and his silver armor gleamed in the sunlight. A bright red cloak flowed behind him as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. "These must be the ones who killed Matthew." The old man nodded, his lips moving faster as he attempted to clarify the image. "Magnify it. I want to see their faces," the knight commanded. The old man''s chanting grew louder, the crystal ball glowing brighter as it expanded the image. Suddenly, with a deafening ''bang'', the crystal ball exploded in midair, shards scattering in all directions. The old man let out a bloodcurdling scream, stumbling backward as the shards pierced his face. Blood ran freely, streaking his weathered skin, and in moments his hair turned fully white. He collapsed to the ground, lifeless, his once-commanding presence extinguished in an instant. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. For a long moment, the group stood in stunned silence, the air heavy with the weight of the old man''s sudden death. The knight in red gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly his knuckles whitened, his composure cracking ever so slightly. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but resolute. "Stop the investigation. This matter ends here." The group exchanged uncertain glances but obeyed without question. One by one, they turned away from the scene, leaving the ruined crystal ball and the old man''s body as silent witnesses to a mystery that would remain unresolved. Chapter 28: The Unlucky Hamilton Family! Chapter 28: The Unlucky Hamilton Family!"This is it. What do you think?" someone asked. In a small, dimly lit house nearby, Angelina clutched her daughter tightly, her eyes sharp and guarded as she confronted the group of strangers who had just barged into her home. Her protective grip and wary gaze spoke volumes: this was no ordinary visit. Ahead stood two men, their presence unsettling and their faces harsh. The one on the left bore a long, jagged scar curling from the corner of his mouth, half of one eyebrow conspicuously missing. The other, short and rotund, looked even more menacing, his fleshy face set in a cruel sneer. Behind them loomed a group of tall, broad-shouldered men, their sheer size and numbers intimidating. A few more lingered outside, keeping watch. Residents in the area watched from a distance, too afraid to intervene. The two leading figures were well-known troublemakers, infamous in the slums for their brutality. But the men behind them were different; clean, sharp, and well-dressed, exuding an air of authority that hinted at ties to the nobility. As the group spread out, a man in the center stepped forward. He was strikingly composed, wearing single-rimmed glasses and a crisp gray suit. His gaze was cold and calculating as he appraised Ava from head to toe. Angelina, clutching her daughter protectively, shivered under his scrutiny. She knew that look all too well, it was the same one she saw in the market, when buyers picked over meat. "Perfect," the man said flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. "That''s one quota met." Without further words, he turned away. Angelina held Ava tighter as the men moved in, trying desperately to shield her daughter. Ava screamed, struggling in pain as they pulled her from her mother''s grasp. The moment Angelina''s grip faltered, her daughter was wrenched away. "No!" Angelina cried, chasing after them. But before she could get far, the short, stocky man stepped forward and delivered a brutal kick to her stomach. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, and before she could recover, two of the thugs began beating her mercilessly. Fists and boots rained down, and a vicious kick to her head sent her spiraling into unconsciousness. The group left as quickly as they came, disappearing into the slum''s winding alleys. It was only after their departure that a few neighbors dared to approach. One bent down, shaking his head grimly. "The Hamilton family... so unlucky," someone muttered. Others kept their distance, muttering quietly. "If they''re tied to nobles, there''s nothing anyone can do." -------- Far from the cozy mountain lodge, deep within a twisting mountain path, a carriage rattled along. Inside, Alfonso sat quietly, his dark brown eyes suddenly transforming into a piercing, crystalline blue. The change was startling, their blue glow was like the shimmer of a glass orb, faint sparks of electricity dancing within. Alfonso''s gaze seemed to pierce through the fabric of reality, as if locking eyes with something or someone, in the unseen void. Across from him, Leonard, absorbed in a book, stiffened. A wave of unease swept over him, nausea bubbling up in his chest. His neck prickled as though an invisible force was watching him. But just as quickly as it came, the sensation vanished. Leonard glanced at his teacher, Alfonso, who remained calm, betraying no sign that anything unusual had occurred. Shaking off the discomfort, Leonard returned to his book, its dense pages holding an irresistible allure. The more he read, the more the extraordinary world of "Variation Science" unfolded before him. Each line deepened his understanding, not just of mutations, but of bloodlines, a revelation that thrilled him. "Sir, we''ll reach Bangor Harbor by day''s end," Kenny, the coachman, called out. The carriage had sped up after leaving the rugged mountain trails, but the monotony of the journey began to weigh on Leonard. Anticipation mingled with fatigue as the destination drew nearer, and conflicting emotions churned in his heart. He imagined both the joy on his parents'' faces and the dread of hearing bad news that might await him. Pulling back the curtain, Leonard peered outside. The coastal sky was a deeper, richer blue than inland, dotted with clouds drifting lazily. Sparse trees lined the road, and the signs of life increased as they approached Bangor Harbor. Civilians bustled about, their clothes vibrant and varied, far brighter than the muted tones of inland attire. The streets were alive with chatter and occasional laughter. Women, rarely seen out and about in the interior, walked confidently here, clad in colorful garments, their conversations punctuated by bursts of excitement. Kenny glanced at the lively scene, a wistful smile tugging at his weathered face as he puffed on his pipe. The vibrancy of the harbor town stirred a fleeting envy in his heart. ''What a life it would be to live here,'' he thought. But he dismissed the notion quickly. At his age, dreams like these belonged to younger men. Instead, he focused on working as hard as he could for the few years he had left, saving every penny for his grandchildren and his son. For himself? He had no great ambitions. In his hometown, a "Kenneth" was like an ox; steady, hardworking, and enduring. That was enough. Finally, as the carriage rolled to a stop, Leonard''s mixed feelings peaked. He braced himself for what lay ahead, stepping out onto the bustling streets of Bangor Harbor. The bright world outside the carriage felt almost overwhelming after the long, dusty journey. S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. ------ That evening, Hamilton walked home from the pier with a bounce in his step, a large fish swinging in his hand. The scales glinted dully in the fading light, smudged with blood, and the fish wasn''t particularly fresh. But it had cost only 10 copper coins, and to Hamilton, it was a prize. Ava loved fish, and tonight he planned to make her favorite soup, a hearty, nourishing meal for his growing daughter. His left hand brushed the coins in his pocket, their warmth filling him with a quiet pride. In a few more days, he thought, he''d have enough to pay the rent. Then they could finally leave this damp, miserable part of town. The sea air was too harsh, even for him. Every morning his knees ached from the cold and humidity. The wooden planks beneath his feet were slick with moss, the chill wind biting at his collar. Hamilton pulled his coat tighter, oblivious to the furtive glances from those around him. "Hamilton." A man sitting on a small wooden stool in front of a nearby house suddenly called out to Hamilton. Hamilton turned his head and recognized that it was Bart who called him. This person was a fellow refugee who fled with him in the same town. He used to be a carpenter in the town and also opened a small grocery store. He knew some handicrafts. During the escape, the two families helped each other. However, Bart injured his leg while fleeing, and now he usually helps others do some carpentry work to make a living. "Haha, Bart, come to my house tonight and have some soup together?" Hamilton laughed heartily. Bart was silent for a moment, then said, "Go home and see Angelina as soon as possible." After Bart finished speaking, he lowered his head and continued to polish the stool in his hands. Hamilton was stunned. Listening to Bart''s words, he vaguely sensed that something was wrong. He quickly ran towards his home. Just outside there homw he saw his son James, James, noticing his father. The boy walked silently by his father''s side, his hand gripping Hamilton''s tightly. There was an unease in the air that James couldn''t shake. "What''s wrong, James?" Hamilton asked, glancing down. "Are you cold?" James shook his head, but his grip only tightened not responding to his fathers question. Hamilton Looking at the half-open door, Hamilton quickly pushed it open. Seeing Angelina lying on the ground with a weak breath, and Ava missing from the house, the man''s eyes suddenly turned red. "Angelina!" I carried Angelina to the bed. My wife''s forehead was as cold as ice and her breathing was weak. This honest and simple man was so panicked that he didn''t know what to do. He asked Patton to stay at home to boil water and take care of his mother while he went to get a doctor. It was windy outside at night and the old doctor was reluctant to go out. However, when he saw the man with red and bloodshot eyes taking out double the consultation fee, the old doctor in his sixties reluctantly came to Hamilton''s house with his medicine box. The old doctor checked Angelina''s body and shook his head. "The cold has entered her body. There are also wounds on the back of her head and bruises on her stomach. Her internal organs may have been injured. The main reason is that the cold has taken the opportunity to enter her body after she was injured. Even if she can be cured, she will have to take a long time to recover and will leave sequelae. Fortunately, her physical fitness is still good. If it were someone with a weaker body, she would have died. But even if it is cured, I probably won''t be able to do heavy work. If you want to treat it, it will cost a lot of money. Are you sure you want to treat it? It''s not that my fees are high, but many medicines are not cheap. " Hamilton dug out a dozen silver coins from the cracks in the corners, and took out hidden silver coins from various corners of the house, piling them up in a small pile on the bed. "Is this enough money?" "There will definitely not be enough follow-up medicine, but it is enough for now." The old doctor shook his head, nodded, hesitated for a moment, and reminded: "Are you sure you want to save her? This will drag your family down." He had seen too many similar examples where an illness could bring a family into a heavy abyss. Hamilton gritted his teeth and nodded. He had to save her. He would have to work two jobs to earn money to save her. He had suffered the pain of losing his son once, and he could not lose his wife again. And there is also the missing Ava. At this moment, the man in a foreign land suddenly felt deeply powerless. Chapter 29: Reaching Bangor Harbor! Chapter 29: Reaching Bangor Harbor!"Sir, we''ve arrived. This is Bangor Harbor," Kenny announced as the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Green Vine Inn. Leonard lifted the curtain and peered outside. The gravel road stretched ahead, bordered by three- and four-story buildings with weathered but sturdy facades. Pedestrians filled the streets, their faces rosy from the crisp air, dressed in thick coats and scarves to stave off the harbor''s chill. ''So this is Bangor Harbor,'' Leonard thought, taking in the bustling scene. It was a far cry from the muddy dirt roads of his hometown, where rain turned paths into treacherous traps for clean trousers. The harbor town, though not a grand city, had a vitality and order that impressed him, especially after the rugged scenery he''d witnessed along the journey. "Sir, the remaining fare?" Kenny asked hesitantly, breaking Leonard''s thoughts. Leonard handed over the remaining coins, which Kim accepted with repeated thanks. "Sir, do you need a ride somewhere else?" Kim offered. "I''ll be staying here for a couple of days, giving the horses some rest. Plus, things are cheaper here than back home, so I plan to bring some goods for my family." Leonard glanced at his teacher, Alfonso, who was engrossed in a magic book, seemingly indifferent to the exchange. Leonard had learned by now to interpret his teacher''s silences, and this one signaled no objections. "If I need to find someone, do you know anyone who can help?" Leonard asked. "The innkeeper should be your first stop," Kenny suggested. "They usually know all kinds of people around town." Taking Kim''s advice, Leonard approached the innkeeper through the coachman''s introduction. The innkeeper, a shrewd man with sharp eyes, gave Leonard a quick once-over. ''Not a noble,'' he thought, ''but renting a carriage for such a distance means he''s got money.'' "If you''re looking for someone," the innkeeper began, "you''ll want to talk to Big Gold Tooth at the docks. He''s got plenty of lackeys and knows more about the local news than anyone else. But fair warning: he''ll squeeze you for every coin he can." Leonard nodded. "Understood. Please help me arrange it." The innkeeper smirked slightly, already calculating his cut. With a gesture, he summoned one of his bodyguards and instructed him to bring someone. A short while later, a man stumbled in, a drunkard with a foul stench, his hair greasy and unkempt. The innkeeper gave Leonard a brief nod and walked away, leaving him with the disheveled man. The drunk held up five dirty fingers. "Five silver coins," he slurred. "Give me five silver coins, and I''ll take you to my boss." Leonard''s expression didn''t waver as he pulled out the coins and handed them over. The drunk inspected each one meticulously, biting the metal with yellowed teeth and sniffing it as if verifying its authenticity. Satisfied, he shoved the coins into a pocket at the back of his pants and grinned. "Follow me," he said. The man led Leonard out of the inn, weaving through narrow alleys and side streets. Leonard stayed close, his mind focused on the encounter ahead with the infamous Big Gold Tooth. Leonard frowned and called out, "Wait a minute." The drunkard stopped mid-step, turning back with a quizzical expression. "I have another companion," Leonard explained. "Wait here while I go find them." He returned to the front of the hotel, only to discover the carriage empty. His teacher, Alfonso, was gone. ''How does a grown man just wander off?'' Leonard thought, exasperated. He asked Kenny if he''d seen any sign of Alfonso. Kenny shook his head nervously. "When I got off the carriage earlier, there was no one inside." Leonard turned to the hotel owner, who also claimed to have seen nothing. Silent for a moment, Leonard considered the situation. ''The teacher wouldn''t just vanish unless it was intentional,'' he thought. Alfonso was resourceful and more than capable of taking care of himself. If anything, people with ill intentions should be more worried about him than the other way around. ''He probably wants me to focus on what I came here to do.'' Leonard nodded inwardly. Alfonso had shown no objection when Leonard mentioned finding his family, so he must have his reasons for stepping away now. With that, Leonard returned to the side door, where the drunkard was waiting. "Finally," the man grumbled, taking the lead again. He stumbled forward, circling through streets with practiced ease. Leonard followed with a calm demeanor, hands in his pockets, his eyes betraying no emotion. Beneath his feet, he could feel the subtle movements of two iron earthworms trailing along, hidden in the soil. The night before, Leonard had sent the creatures ahead in the direction he would travel. They had burrowed quietly through the ground, a precaution in case of trouble. Now, they moved in tandem with him, an invisible safety net in a city where trust was a luxury. ''In this chaotic world, the line between transaction partner and thief is thin,'' Leonard mused. He wouldn''t be caught unprepared. They crossed a bustling street as seagulls cried overhead. Along the endless blue coastline, large ships rested at the docks, while the canals teemed with life. Workers in short-sleeved shirts unloaded crates from the ships, while others loaded new goods onto the vessels. The air smelled of salt and spices, mingling with the scents wafting from nearby restaurants and bakeries. Tourists, clad in vibrant, exotic clothing, disembarked from steamships to explore the seaside streets. The whitewashed buildings, adorned with conch and mermaid statues, sparkled in the sunlight. Bars, specialty shops, and cafes lined the streets, drawing both locals and travelers alike. A whistle pierced the air, signaling the arrival of another steamship. Black smoke billowed from its chimney as it docked. Passengers leaned out over the railings, many with flowing purple-black hair and elegant lace hats. The drunkard sneered. "That''s a steel ship from the Fisher Empire. Those purple-haired tourists are loaded. Look at those brats with the flowers and shells, they make more than I do leading the way." He spat on the ground, his envy evident. "This is the ''new dock.'' Even the laborers here have noble connections. Every shop along this stretch belongs to some powerful family. The money they pull in could keep me drunk for a year." Leonard''s curiosity deepened. "Is Big Gold Tooth connected to this dock?" he asked, intrigued by the potential influence behind the name. The drunkard shook his head. "Nah, our boss works out of the ''old dock.'' This one''s full of fancy foreign ships. The old dock is for merchant ships, mostly from the kingdom. That''s where we''re headed." They moved away from the lively streets of the new dock, the roads growing shabbier as they went. The surroundings became quieter, with fewer pedestrians. After walking for nearly half an hour, the path became increasingly run-down, potholes marking the uneven ground. Then, as they approached the old dock, the streets grew busy again, the air alive with the sounds of shouting sailors and creaking ropes. The energy here was rougher, grittier; a stark contrast to the polished elegance of the new dock. Leonard glanced around, his senses sharp as he prepared for the encounter ahead. The old dock had a completely different energy from the bustling new port. While the new dock gleamed with activity and modernity, this area was steeped in age and wear. The buildings, mismatched in height and weathered by time, told stories of generations past. Drainage pits lined the front of each house, and a woman casually poured out water from a basin into one as Leonard passed by. On the distant coastline, crates and barrels were stacked high on the docks, while workers, drenched in sweat, strained to move cargo. Their shouts mingled with the clatter of crates and the hum of busy labor. In the alleys, dark-skinned children, clad in nothing but tattered underwear, darted past, their laughter echoing despite their naked vulnerability. "This is the old dock," the drunkard announced, nodding as if to confirm it for himself. He gestured for Leonard to follow him into a narrow alley. "Oh, and don''t call the boss ''Big Gold Teeth.'' His name is Hampton." Soon, they stopped in front of a house that looked no different from the other crumbling structures in the area. Two burly men with dark skin and tattoos lounged against the wall near the entrance. The faint sound of chatter and dice rolling leaked out from inside. "We''re here to see Hampton," the drunkard said. The two men eyed Leonard skeptically, noting his calm demeanor and youthful face. With a shrug, they waved him inside. --- "Big! Big! Big!" "Small! Small! Small!" Inside, a group of burly men surrounded a table, cheering and cursing as dice clattered against the wooden surface. Copper coins gleamed in small piles next to their fists, evidence of a heated gambling session. Upstairs, in a room with an open window, a rotund man sat on a worn sofa. He wore a tilted hat, and his sparse beard gave him a disheveled appearance. This was Hampton, the man they called Big Gold Teeth. A cigar smoldered in his hand as he leaned forward, his eyes locked on Hamilton, who stood across from him. "I heard from Jeffs that you''re strapped for cash," Hampton said, his voice smooth but weighted with an unspoken menace. "I can lend you some, but it all depends, will you do what I ask?" Hamilton stood silently, his massive 1.9-meter frame dwarfing the room. His mind churned. The doctor had warned him just yesterday that his wife''s illness would only worsen if they stayed in this damp, cold port. Moving to a drier place was essential, but it would cost money; a lot of it. On top of that, he had to support his family, pay for treatment, and now, somehow, track down Ava. The weight of it all was suffocating. Last night, he had wanted to confront the two thugs who took Ava, but they must have sensed his fury and avoided home altogether. Hamilton had come to work at the dock today, trying to suppress his rage and despair. A fellow loader had noticed his sour mood and, after some prodding, introduced him to Hampton. Hamilton had heard of Big Gold Teeth before, or "The Dock Rat" as some called him. The old dock was filled with shadows, and Hampton was one of its most notorious figures. Shady dealings, smuggling, and underground networks, Hampton had his fingers in them all. It wasn''t the kind of man Hamilton wanted to associate with, but desperation had a way of dissolving principles. If Hampton could help find Ava, it might be worth the risk. "I''ll do it," Hamilton said after a heavy pause. His voice was steady, but his resolve wavered inside. Hampton smirked, taking a long drag from his cigar. "Good choice." Just then, a knock came at the door. "Boss," one of Hampton''s men whispered in his ear after stepping in. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Hampton''s smirk widened. "The drunkard brought a little fat sheep," he said, laughing. "Let''s go meet them. Hamilton, you might enjoy this." He stood, straightening his hat, and headed downstairs with a swagger, eager to see what business opportunity awaited. Chapter 30: Reunion! Chapter 30: Reunion!"Is the person inside?" Hampton asked as he descended the creaky wooden stairs. He moved with a slow, deliberate confidence, flanked by four imposing men with broad shoulders and arms like tree trunks. The old drunkard led the way, pushing open the door to a small, dimly lit reception room at the back of the house. Inside, a young boy leaned back precariously on a chair, its two legs teetering under his weight as he balanced against the table. Hamilton followed Hampton hesitantly, his nerves betraying him. This was unfamiliar territory; walking into a shady deal in a place like this. A heavy sense of guilt gnawed at him. ''If Angelina knew what I was doing, she''d be furious,'' he thought grimly. She had always believed in his integrity, in his refusal to harm others or stoop to this level. His muscular frame had drawn recruiters before, but Hamilton had always turned them away. Yet here he was, following Golden Tooth into a murky underworld for the first time. Hamilton kept his head low as they entered, avoiding eye contact with anyone inside. ---- "Golden Tooth? I need your help to find someone¡ª" Leonard began, stopping mid-sentence as his gaze shifted to the man standing behind, tge information dealer, it was his fater Hampton. A look of astonishment flickered across his face. ''Could it really be...?'' Leonard blinked, taking a moment to confirm what he was seeing. His suspicions crystallized into certainty: it was Hamilton. After all this time, the man from his past stood there, stooped and uneasy. The strange twist of fate made Leonard suppress a laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards despite himself. "What are you laughing at?" Golden Tooth snapped, irritation flashing in his eyes. He despised being mocked, especially by someone as composed as Leonard. "Nothing," Leonard replied smoothly, his voice calm. "Just remembered something amusing." The man, clearly irritated, ignored it. He dropped onto a stool, crossed one leg over the other, and grinned, his yellowed teeth flashing. "Everyone in the dock knows me as the man with the most up-to-date information. You want someone found? I can do it, for a price." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Hamilton, still standing stiffly behind him, heard Leonard''s familiar voice. His head shot up, his eyes widening like saucers. Disbelief and surprise danced across his face, but they were quickly overtaken by guilt. ''How could this be the way we meet again?'' he thought bitterly, knowing the kind of man Hampton was and what it implied about his presence here. Golden Tooth man gaze locked with Leonard''s, his emotions spilling out in the intensity of his stare. But Leonard simply raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. ''Shh...'' Hamilton''s chest tightened, his surprise replaced by a tense anticipation. How could he navigate this situation without making things worse? Unfazed, Leonard turned back from Hampton to the Golden Tooth. "So, Golden Tooth, how much would it cost me to find someone?" he asked, his tone as measured as ever. "Depends," the man said with a smirk, exhaling a thick plume of cigar smoke. "If they''re a local, easy. Outsiders? That''s trickier, people come and go at Bangor Harbor all the time. I can find them, sure, but it''ll cost you extra." "It''s just a civilian," Leonard replied, his voice steady. "How much are we talking?" "Looking for a commoner?" Golden Tooth sneered, giving Leonard a long, appraising look. His clothes weren''t extravagant, and the drunkard had already mentioned he arrived in a rented hotel carriage. ''No powerful figure would ever rely on that,'' Golden Tooth thought, growing more confident in his assumptions. His expression darkened as he decided Leonard wasn''t worth much trouble. Golden Tooth leaned back, puffing on his cigar. "The speed of finding someone depends entirely on how deep your pockets are," he said with a predatory gleam in his eye. Smoke curled around his face as he added, "You pay more, I find them faster. Your choice." "But," he added, a malicious grin creeping across his face, "if you''re strapped for cash, I know a way you can make some quick money." He stepped closer, his large hand reaching out to clamp down on Leonard''s shoulder. Leonard didn''t flinch. Instead, he calmly placed his own hand over Big Gold Tooth''s wrist. ''Hmm?'' Golden Tooth felt a sudden jolt of resistance, followed by an overwhelming force. Snap! Big Gold Tooth let out a scream as his wrist bent unnaturally, pain radiating up his arm. "Help me! Restrain him!" he bellowed. The room erupted into chaos. Hamilton, who had been standing nearby, acted instinctively. With a quick backhanded elbow, he struck one of the men in the waist, sending him to the ground, gasping for breath. In the same motion, he swung a powerful punch into the back of another man''s head. The second thug stumbled, dazed but still standing, and turned to engage Hamilton. Meanwhile, the third man froze momentarily, glancing between Leonard and Hamilton before choosing to assist Golden Tooth. Hamilton grappled with one of the men, shouting over his shoulder, "Run, Leonard! Get out of here!" Hamilton, clumsy and honest by nature, didn''t think through the logistics of escape. He didn''t question how Leonard might evade the men outside the yard or survive in such a dangerous area. All he cared about was giving Leonard a chance to escape. But Leonard didn''t move. Instead, the ground beneath one of the charging thugs suddenly collapsed. With a guttural ''click,'' the man''s lower half disappeared into a massive, gaping mouth that had erupted from the soil. Blood and viscera spilled onto the ground as the iron earthworm emerged, its three-meter-long body rising to tower over the room like a terrifying sentinel. The metallic creature''s head gleamed in the dim light, its segmented, rust-colored jaws spread wide in a grotesque display of sharp, circular fangs. A sickly, viscous liquid dripped from its mouth, mixing with the blood on the floor as it hovered menacingly close to Golden Tooth''s head. Golden Tooth froze, the faint sound of liquid splattering on his shoulder making him swallow hard. His legs felt like jelly. "Y-you''re a superhuman," he stammered, barely able to get the words out. "Let''s not be hasty, alright? Surely... surely we can work something out?" Leonard''s voice was cold and unyielding. "That depends on you, Mr. Golden Tooth." With a subtle gesture, Leonard released his hold. The iron earthworm tilted its head, slamming Golden Tooth to the ground with a forceful nudge. The once-confident thug scrambled to his feet, his face pale and drenched in sweat. He forced a shaky smile, his earlier bravado completely gone. He had underestimated Leonard, mistaking him for an easy mark. ''A superhuman? How did I miss this?'' If he''d known, he never would have crossed Leonard. Glaring briefly at the drunkard who had brought Leonard in, Golden Tooth seethed internally. ''That damned drunk! This is all his fault!'' Humbled and furious, he forced his most agreeable tone. "Alright, alright. Tell me what you need, and we''ll sort it out. No need for things to escalate further..." "I came here in good faith," Leonard said calmly, though his tone carried an unmistakable edge. "But some of your actions have deeply disappointed me." Golden Tooth''s face paled further as he nodded hastily. "I-I''m willing to compensate you, honorable sir," he stammered, desperate to save his life. Leonard glanced around the chaotic room. "I think this place is a bit too noisy." The message was clear. Golden Tooth immediately barked at the door, "Everyone stay outside! Don''t come in!" The muffled sound of movement outside the room quieted as his lackeys froze in confusion. Turning to two of his personal guards who had just been scuffling with Hamilton, Golden Tooth added sharply, "Pantheon, Ford, guard the door. Don''t let anyone in." The two men stepped back from Hamilton, exchanged uncertain glances, and obediently moved to block the entrance. They seemed relieved to avoid further confrontation with either Hamilton or the towering iron earthworm. With the immediate chaos settled, Golden Tooth''s thoughts began racing. His eyes darted between Leonard and Hamilton. The tension in the room had momentarily eased, and his survival instincts kicked in. ''This Hamilton knows Leonard,'' he realized. ''But Leonard isn''t here to kill me outright. If he were, he wouldn''t have hesitated.'' A flicker of hope formed in Golden Tooth''s mind. ''If I can forge a connection with someone like Leonard, I might gain protection or even power. A superhuman ally could change everything.'' Golden Tooth had heard whispers of extraordinary beings before. As a dock rat, he prided himself on knowing more than most. The kingdom held its secrets: mysterious figures with powers that defied logic. Most of them were tied to the nobility; knights, for instance, who were far more than mere swordsmen. The truly extraordinary knights were as strong as bears, faster than leopards, and their skin seemed harder than iron. Beyond knights, he had heard rumors of bards whose deadly chants could kill anyone who listened, or water ghosts, sea god-blessed individuals who could breathe underwater for hours. What most people dismissed as ghost stories, Golden Tooth knew to be closer to the truth than they dared believe. And now, standing before him, was proof. The iron earthworm coiled at Leonard''s feet, its grotesque jaws now hidden, looked almost docile, like a loyal hound. Yet Golden Tooth had witnessed it devour a man whole. This was no ordinary beast; this was power. Hamilton, still shaken, looked between Leonard and the creature. He couldn''t reconcile the boy he knew with the figure standing here now. "Leonard," he murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Yeah," Leonard replied with a slight nod, catching Hamilton''s eye. His gaze carried a silent warning: ''Don''t say too much.'' Hamilton understood. Now wasn''t the time for questions or explanations, especially not in front of Golden Tooth and his men. Any slip could reveal more than they intended. Originally, Leonard had planned to eliminate Golden Tooth on the spot. It would have been simple and effective, cutting off the problem at its root. But as he studied the man''s desperate, calculating expression, another idea took hold. ''Killing him might be too easy. There''s a better way to handle this.'' Chapter 31: Nobility! Chapter 31: Nobility!"Mom, how is she doing?" Leonard''s voice was quiet, but the concern was evident. Hamilton hesitated, his expression clouding. "Your mother is... not well," he finally admitted. "She''s been sick for some time." Leonard frowned, his tone softening. "Sick? Have you called a doctor?" "I did," Hamilton said with a sigh. "He said she needs proper treatment. But that''s not the worst of it." Leonard''s eyes darkened as he caught the shift in his father''s tone. "What''s the biggest problem, then?" Hamilton glanced at him, his voice heavy with despair. "Ava... Ava was taken." Leonard''s steps halted abruptly, his face unreadable. "When?" "Yesterday afternoon." "By who?" Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Two men. A neighbor recognized them; Zerom and Cyrus. Thugs from the slums." Leonard nodded slowly, his hands slipping into his pockets as he turned to his father. "Take the money back home for now," he said evenly, his tone calm but cold. --- Meanwhile, in a dimly lit room, Golden Tooth sat brooding in his chair, a bloodied old drunkard kneeling before him. Two burly bodyguards, Pansen and Ford, flanked the trembling man, their grips firm on his shoulders. "You know how much gold I lost because of your idiocy?" Golden Tooth snarled, his voice like gravel. "Thirty-two coins! Thirty-two!" His rage boiled over as he grabbed an ashtray and smashed it against the drunkard''s head, the sharp sound echoing as blood trickled down the man''s temple. Just then, Leonard''s voice drifted in from the doorway, calm yet piercing. "Oh my, have I interrupted something?" Golden Tooth froze mid-motion. His expression shifted instantly, anger melting into a wide, false smile. "Leonard! My dear friend. What brings you back? Did you forget something?" Leonard smiled faintly but didn''t bother with pleasantries. "I need your help finding two men. Zerom and Cyrus from the slums. They''re small-time thugs, and with your network, I''m sure it''ll be easy." Golden Tooth chuckled, eager to please. "Consider it done! Men!" he barked to his crew. "Anyone who finds Zerom and Cyrus will get a gold coin. Spread the word!" The yard erupted into a chorus of voices. A wiry man with a Mohawk spoke up, "Boss, I''ve got some friends in the slums. They''ll know." "I lived there for eight years!" another chimed in. "I know every corner." Golden Tooth grinned, satisfied. "Good. Get moving." --- An hour later, Zerom and Cyrus, freshly emerged from a casino, were ambushed. Hooded, beaten, and dragged away, they found themselves in a damp, moldy basement. Cyrus blinked in confusion as his mask was yanked off. Across the room, a pale, sharp-eyed boy sat with an air of cold authority. Leonard spoke, his voice low and controlled. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Leonard, and the girl you abducted yesterday? She''s my sister." Cyrus''s blood ran cold as Leonard leaned forward. "I don''t have time to waste. Zerom has already told me everything, but I need to confirm it with you. If your answers don''t match..." Leonard''s smile was razor-sharp. "Let''s just say I''ll take a finger for every inconsistency. Zerom assures me he''s truthful. Let''s see if you agree." Cyrus''s eyes widened in sheer panic. "W-Wait! What? Why do I lose a finger if our answers are different?!" Leonard leaned back, his gaze unyielding. Desperate, Cyrus clung to his last shred of hope. "It wasn''t us! The girl, she was taken by nobles! I swear, it''s the truth! You have to believe me!" His voice cracked as he pleaded, his desperation filling the damp, oppressive air of the basement. Leonard stared at him in silence, his expression unreadable, before rising to his feet. "We''ll see," he said coolly, the promise of judgment hanging heavy in the room. The room seemed to shrink as Leonard leaned closer to Golden Tooth, his voice quiet but laced with authority. His piercing gaze locked onto the man''s, holding him in place like a predator cornering its prey. "I need your help finding someone," he began, his tone deliberate and measured. Golden Tooth''s bravado faltered under the intensity of Leonard''s stare. "He''s an older man," Leonard continued, his words as sharp as the description he painted. "Fifties or sixties, thin, like he hasn''t eaten in days. His face is sharp, with a hooked nose and blue eyes that seem to pierce right through you. About my height. Oh, and he wears a cloak. Always." Leonard let the silence stretch after the description, watching Golden Tooth absorb the details. Before the man could respond, Leonard''s voice cut through the tension like a blade. "And listen carefully," he said, leaning back slightly, his tone sharpening. "If you find him, you don''t talk to him. Don''t even let him know you''ve noticed him. This man isn''t just dangerous, he''s lethal. Notify me immediately. Understood?" Golden Tooth swallowed hard, his usual air of confidence cracking. "Understood, sir," he managed to reply, his voice steady but his mind racing. Dangerous? Lethal? Who was this man Leonard was hunting, and why did he matter so much? Could this be a rival? Or someone who posed a threat to Leonard himself? The implications churned in his thoughts, unsettling him. Leonard didn''t miss the flicker of doubt in Golden Tooth''s eyes. His gaze turned colder, his sharp features unreadable. "Good," he said simply, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Do your job well." Leonard straightened and added, almost as an afterthought, "One more thing. I hear your dock has a lot of meat available. My little friends have, developed a taste for fresh flavors, preferably fish. They''re done with human flesh; say it''s sour." He said this with such nonchalance that it took a moment for the words to fully register. As if summoned, one of Leonard''s iron earthworms slithered up from the ground beside him, its metallic head gleaming ominously in the dim light. Moments later, a second worm appeared, its smooth, deliberate movements mirroring the first. Golden Tooth felt the blood drain from his face. His earlier confidence was now a distant memory. He had seen what these creatures could do; tearing through flesh and bone as if it were nothing. The memory of a victim split in two by one of these monsters resurfaced vividly, sending a shiver down his spine. He forced a smile, though it barely masked his fear. "Of course, sir. It''s... all a misunderstanding before, really." In a desperate bid to appease Leonard, Golden Tooth reached into the pouch at his waist and produced a leather bag. The faint jingle of coins could be heard even before he loosened the drawstring. With practiced ease, he tipped the bag, letting its contents spill into his hand; high-purity gold coins, their luster unmistakable. Hamilton, standing silently beside Leonard, couldn''t hide his reaction. His eyes lit up at the sight of the gleaming coins, betraying a mix of awe and desperation. Without a word, Leonard took the bag, gave it a cursory glance, and handed it to Hamilton, who accepted it with wide eyes and trembling hands. Leonard turned back to Golden Tooth, his tone curt. "We''ll be in touch." With that, he turned on his heel and strode away, his movements deliberate and composed. The iron earthworms, as if sensing their master''s departure, burrowed back into the ground, leaving only faint impressions behind. Golden Tooth watched Leonard leave, his false smile slowly fading. The foreboding weight of the encounter settled heavily on his shoulders. As Leonard disappeared into the shadows, he muttered under his breath, "This man... he''s playing a game I don''t want any part of." --- As Leonard walked away, his thoughts were already racing. Sparing Golden Tooth had been a calculated decision. It wasn''t mercy, it was necessity. Hamilton, standing so close to the man''s operations, made retaliation too risky. If Leonard were to strike, he would need to wipe out every one of Golden Tooth''s subordinates, and the timing wasn''t right for that level of escalation. For now, the warning he''d delivered would suffice. The gold Golden Tooth had offered was paltry compared to what Leonard had at his disposal. The broken golden door, with its hidden wealth and dormant iron earthworms, was a treasure trove far beyond the reach of petty gangsters. Leonard had only recently uncovered the door''s true purpose and the power it concealed. As he strode through the dimly lit streets, Leonard''s mind was focused. He knew the man he was hunting; older, cloaked, and dangerous, would not be easy to find. But Leonard wasn''t a man to be underestimated, and with the power of the iron earthworms at his command, he knew he held the upper hand. This city would give him what he wanted. And if it didn''t? He''d take it by force. Chapter 32: Ava’s Whereabouts! Chapter 32: Ava''s Whereabouts!The nobility; Leonard''s understanding of them was vague at best. Whether from the fragmented memories of his previous life or the hazy knowledge of this one, the image was always the same: extravagance, excess, and arrogance. Tales of their gilded lives floated around like whispers in the wind, but the specifics were elusive. Now, standing before Cyrus, Leonard felt a twinge of frustration. "I''ve told you everything I know!" Cyrus cried, his voice trembling, his desperation palpable. Leonard stood slowly; his cold gaze fixed on the man. "Have you?" he asked, his tone so calm it was unnerving. "Because your answer doesn''t match Zerom''s. That makes you a liar." "No! No, I''m not lying!" Cyrus protested, his voice cracking. His wide eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape that didn''t exist. "Wait¡ªwait! I remember something!" he blurted, his voice rising with frantic urgency. Leonard raised an eyebrow but said nothing, the silence pressuring Cyrus to continue. "There was a man," Cyrus stammered, his breath ragged. "I... I noticed him. He got into a carriage. It had roses on it. A crest, the crest of Viscount Borrent. That''s his emblem!" Leonard''s expression didn''t change, but his hand moved in one swift motion, grabbing Cyrus''s head. The man yelped as Leonard forced him still, pressing his face to the cold surface of the table. With his free hand, Leonard drew a knife, the blade catching the dim light of the room. He pressed it lightly against Cyrus''s neck. "Don''t move," Leonard murmured, his voice chillingly soft. "It might hurt... but only for a moment." Cyrus thrashed like a fish on dry land, his movements frantic but futile against Leonard''s iron grip. The blade remained steady, the promise of pain implicit. --- At the same time, Hamilton returned home, his arms laden with a large bag of medicine. He stepped into the dimly lit house, where Angelina sat slumped against the wall, her face pale, her eyes distant. She hadn''t been the same since Ava was taken. "You need to rest," Hamilton said gently, his voice heavy with concern. Angelina barely moved, but her gaze shifted to him. Her lips trembled as she asked, "Did you... did you find anything?" Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Hamilton sighed, setting the medicine down. From his waist, he pulled out a leather purse and emptied its contents onto the bed. A cascade of gold coins tumbled out, their gleam filling the room with a soft glow. Angelina''s eyes widened in shock. "Where... where did you get so much money?" she whispered, her voice tinged with fear and disbelief. "We couldn''t earn this much in ten years, even if we starved ourselves!" Hamilton sat beside her, his expression firm. "We''re not poor anymore," he said simply. "This is ours now." Angelina''s hand gripped his wrist tightly. "Can we use this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Can we pay to get Ava back? Surely, they''ll take the money..." Hamilton''s face darkened, the words catching in his throat. Instead of answering, he changed the subject. "I saw Leonard today," he said, his tone lighter, though the weight of unspoken thoughts lingered. Angelina''s face brightened for a moment, a fragile spark of hope in her weary eyes. "Leonard?" she asked, trying to sit upright despite her weak body. "Where is he? Is he safe?" Hamilton hesitated before responding. "He''s... working on something. He''ll come to see you soon." After a pause, he added, "He''s strong now. Stronger than I ever was, stronger then anyone I''ve seen." But Angelina''s hope faltered. "I don''t care if he''s strong," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just want him safe." Nearby, young James, who had been boiling water, perked up at the mention of his older brother. He grinned, his youthful optimism shining through. "I knew it!" he said, beaming. "Big brother''s alive! He''s the strongest person I know, except for Dad." --- Meanwhile, Leonard followed the information given to him by Big Gold Teeth to a small island just outside Viscount Borrent''s territory. Bangor Harbor loomed before him, a sprawling, thriving port city that owed its prosperity to the Borrent family. The harbor, once an unremarkable fishing village, had grown over generations, blossoming into a vital hub of trade and wealth. The Borrent family''s rise to power was well-documented. According to Big Gold Teeth, their ancestor had been a humble fisherman, blessed by the sea god himself or so the legend claimed. With this divine favor, the fisherman aided a prince in reclaiming lost southern territories. When the prince ascended to the throne, he rewarded the family with the title of Viscount and the fiefdom of Bangor Harbor. But Big Gold Teeth had shared whispers that didn''t make it into official accounts. The family''s true strength, he said, came not from divine blessings but from a carefully guarded inheritance; a secret that ensured each generation produced a supernatural being like their legendary ancestor. Leonard scoffed at the notion of sea-god blessings as he made his way through the harbor. To him, the rumors about their "inheritance" were far more credible. In his line of work, legends were often grounded in fragments of truth. The port bustled with activity, its prosperity evident in the richly adorned buildings and the fleets of merchant ships crowding the docks. But Leonard wasn''t here to admire the scenery. He moved with purpose, his mind focused on the next step in his mission. If Viscount Borrent was involved in Ava''s abduction, he would uncover the truth and if necessary, dismantle the Borrent legacy brick by brick. The so-called Poseidon was nothing more than a fabrication, or worse, a cruel joke. Leonard had heard enough stories to doubt the sea god''s supposed benevolence. Fishermen who drunkenly urinated on Poseidon''s statue often returned home with overflowing nets of fish, while devout sailors who prayed at dawn and dusk drowned in unforgiving storms. If a Poseidon truly existed, Leonard mused darkly, he was likely an indifferent, if not outright malevolent, deity who delighted in chaos. --- The Borrent family, one of Bangor Harbor''s most influential, resided at the heart of the bustling port city. A grand canal sliced through the harbor, connecting its vibrant districts like veins feeding a body, and the Borrent estate sat prominently near the water, its location a statement of both prestige and practicality. Leonard couldn''t help but remain skeptical of the divine. He didn''t outright deny the existence of gods, there were too many whispered legends to dismiss entirely; but blind faith wasn''t something he possessed. Gods, if they existed, had never deigned to reveal themselves. The churches scattered across the kingdom were more symbols of tradition than vessels of true power. Priests, garbed in their ceremonial robes, were merely ordinary men. Leonard recalled the priest from his own small town, a jovial drunk in his fifties who offered free prayers at funerals. One bitter winter night, the man had stumbled home, fallen in the snow, and frozen solid by morning. His funeral had been humble, attended by villagers who appreciated his kindness but were under no illusions about divine intervention. It was said the kingdom subtly suppressed the influence of the church. Ancient history books, locked away from commoners like Leonard, likely held the truth. Perhaps if he could read those forbidden texts, he might unravel the tangled web of faith and power. But for now, such knowledge remained out of reach. When Leonard had journeyed south with his master Alfonso, he had dreamed of grand adventures, of stumbling upon extraordinary powers hidden in plain sight. But reality had proven mundane. Apart from a peculiar incident in a mine, the extraordinary seemed elusive, almost mythical. Yet his master''s words lingered: ''There is a deeper world, hidden beneath the surface of the ordinary.'' --- The Viscount''s manor loomed ahead, a sprawling estate that resembled a luxurious seaside retreat rather than a fortress. Its design embraced the surrounding natural beauty, with manicured gardens, fountains, and statues scattered across the grounds. Tonight, the estate was alive with activity; lights blazed from every window, and the sound of music and laughter spilled into the night. A banquet was in full swing. High walls, covered in thick thorns, encircled the property, but they posed no challenge for Leonard. The ground beneath him trembled slightly, the soil loosening as one of his iron earthworms burrowed upward. A large hole formed, wide enough for Leonard to slip through. The creature briefly surfaced, its metallic head glinting, before sinking back into the earth. Leonard lowered himself into the tunnel and emerged on the other side, brushing dirt from his hands. The vast manor stretched before him, an intricate maze of paths, hedges, and grand buildings. Finding the clues he needed here would be no small task. As he considered his next move, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He darted into a nearby bush, crouching low. Peering through the foliage, he spotted a group of servants, their uniforms pristine and their heads bowed as they moved quickly through the gardens. They walked in silence, their hurried pace leaving no room for idle chatter. Leonard frowned. "In every drama I watched in my last life," he muttered to himself, "servants always gossip and spill their master''s secrets. This is disappointing." Shrugging off his disappointment, Leonard began to creep closer to the manor''s central building. He moved with practiced stealth, his senses alert for any signs of danger. Suddenly, he froze. From the shadows ahead, the faint sound of a child''s footsteps reached him. A young blonde girl, no older than thirteen or fourteen, stormed out of the manor''s grand entrance. Her cheeks were flushed, her pout exaggerated, and her steps heavy with frustration. Behind her, an older maid hurried after her, her expression frantic. "Miss! Miss, where are you going?" the maid called, her voice tinged with panic. The girl spun around, her arms crossed defiantly. "Don''t bother me! I don''t want to marry that earl!" she snapped, her voice carrying through the still night air. Leonard''s ears perked up. ''Interesting.'' The girl continued, her tone growing more indignant. "He''s practicality old; almost forty! That''s the same age as Father! It''s disgusting!" The maid wrung her hands, her anxiety palpable. "Please, Miss. Your father only wants what''s best for you." "Best for me?" the girl retorted, her golden curls bouncing as she stamped her foot. "How is marrying someone with three daughters and four sons older than me ''best for me''? What am I supposed to do, play stepmother to a houseful of grown children?" The maid''s pleas faded into the background as Leonard observed the scene. This wasn''t the clue he had been searching for, but it was a thread worth tugging. If this girl was connected to the Viscount, she might unknowingly reveal something useful. Remaining hidden, Leonard prepared to follow her. ''Every locked door has a key,'' he thought, a faint smile playing on his lips. ''And sometimes, the key is an angry little girl.'' Chapter 33: Water Ghost! Chapter 33: Water Ghost!The maid hesitated, her hands trembling as she avoided the sharp glare of the young blonde girl before her. To even discuss such topics was unthinkable. Gossip, especially about the Viscount or his family, was a one-way ticket to an unmarked grave at the bottom of the lake. Everyone in the manor knew what happened to disobedient servants, the fish told no tales. Her duty was clear: ensure the young lady never left the manor grounds. But duty didn''t prepare her for the slap that came next. The blonde girl''s delicate, gloved hand struck with surprising force, leaving a stinging red imprint on the maid''s cheek. The maid staggered, clutching her face in shock as tears pricked at her eyes. "You dare touch me?" the young girl hissed, her icy blue eyes alight with disdain. "You''re just a servant. Know your place." Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The maid''s head dipped lower, her lips trembling as she struggled to form a reply. "And listen well," the blonde continued, her voice dripping with malice. "If you dare tell my father about this, I''ll have my brother beat you to death. Stay put. Understand?" Without waiting for a response, the girl turned on her heel and strode off, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. The maid''s heart raced as she watched her charge disappear down the winding garden path. Panic surged within her. If the young lady went missing, the Viscount''s wrath would be swift and deadly. She couldn''t simply stand idle. The blonde girl''s sharp temper was legendary, and her brother''s cruelty was even worse. Many servants bore the scars or worse, never returned from the punishments he doled out. Steeling herself, the maid rushed after the girl, her steps faltering with dread. But the girl was nowhere to be seen. Meanwhile, hidden behind a large bed of roses, the young lady smirked. "Finally," she whispered to herself, brushing dirt off her dress. "I''m not marrying some decrepit old man." Her defiance was as bright as her golden locks. She crouched low, preparing to make her next move, when a shadow loomed over her. A cold hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her yelp of surprise. A blade, its edge glinting in the dappled sunlight, hovered perilously close to her porcelain skin. "Shh," a calm yet chilling voice murmured in her ear. "You don''t want that pretty little face of yours to get scratched, do you?" The girl''s eyes widened in terror as the blade pressed lightly against her cheek. She squirmed, but the grip around her tightened. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. "Now," the voice continued, its tone almost conversational, "we''re going to have a little chat. You answer my questions, and no one gets hurt. Think too long, though, and..." The knife glided slightly, a silent warning. "What... what do you want?" she stammered, tears welling in her eyes. "Your father," the man said coldly. "Where does he keep the people he traffics?" "I don''t know!" she cried, her voice quivering. "I won''t ask again," he replied. The pressure of the knife increased slightly, enough to make her gasp. Her mind scrambled for answers. A memory surfaced. "Wait! I don''t know exactly, but..." she hesitated, desperation clear in her voice. "There''s a basement. By the port. I heard prisoners are sometimes locked up there. If he''s hiding someone, it would be there." The man''s grip loosened slightly, but the knife remained. "Good girl. Now, you''re going to take me there." He gave a signal, and from a nearby bush, a wiry giant tigure emerged, dusting dirt off his pants. The man, David, grinned sheepishly underneath his makeshift cloak at the blonde girl before nodding to his companion. The journey to the basement was uneventful but tense. The building was tucked away near the river, hidden by a thicket of ancient trees. Leonard used the shadows as cover, leading the small group to the entrance. The iron gate loomed before them, its lock gleaming in the faint moonlight. Leonard''s eyes narrowed as he knelt by the gate, his hand brushing against the dirt. The ground rumbled beneath them, and suddenly, a massive iron-scaled earthworm burst from the soil. Its segmented body glistened as it slithered forward, opening its maw to swallow the padlock whole. The creature crunched the metal effortlessly, spitting out the remains like crumbs. Vivian shrieked, clutching her skirts tightly. The sight of the creature was almost too much for her already frayed nerves. She recoiled, only to feel Leonard''s firm grip on her arm. "Relax," he said coolly. "It''s just doing its job." The earthworm nudged the gate open with its massive body, revealing a narrow, dimly lit staircase descending into darkness. Leonard muttered something under his breath, the iron ring on his wrist glowing faintly as he communicated silently with the creature. "It''s clear," he announced. "Lead the way." Vivian hesitated, but the cold edge of the knife against her spine urged her forward. The group descended the stairs, the silence broken only by the soft drip of water and the occasional scuttle of unseen creatures. Unbeknownst to them, David lingered at the entrance. With a mischievous grin, he tiptoed through the gate, carefully closing it behind him. "Always wanted to see a secret lair," he whispered to himself, his voice echoing softly as he followed them into the depths. Drop, drop... The steady rhythm of water dripping echoed through the damp, oppressive air of the basement. It was far more humid than Leonard had anticipated, and the moisture seemed to seep into his very bones. Through his metal ring, the iron earthworm, fed back fragments of information. Its simple thoughts informed Leonard that something lay ahead, but its limited intelligence couldn''t articulate exactly what. The narrow corridor stretched before him, flanked by rows of empty cells. Leonard''s sharp eyes swept over the walls and the iron bars, noting how eerily familiar they looked. They were nearly identical to the cells where his mentor, Teacher Angelet, had been imprisoned. But these cells were vacant; ghostly echoes of what might have once been. His brows furrowed as he descended deeper. The air grew heavier with every step. The basement seemed to stretch endlessly downward. Judging from the depth, he guessed that they were now below the canal''s water level. What on earth was the Viscount planning down here? he mused, though his caution kept him from dismissing the area''s dangers with idle speculation. The absurd thought of an underwater park flickered through his mind, but the grim reality of the place silenced it quickly. In his arms, Vivian trembled violently, curled up like a frightened bird. Her small frame quivered with every breath, and she pressed closer to him for warmth or perhaps, protection. Leonard''s grip was iron-like, his arm locked around her throat to prevent her escape. She gasped for air but said nothing, her heart pounding like a drum. Strangely, instead of loathing him, Vivian felt a peculiar curiosity about the man who had dragged her into this nightmare. Her pale fingers clutched at his waist as though seeking comfort, and she buried her head against him like a child afraid of the dark. "Enough!" Leonard growled, irritated by her proximity. His steps faltered slightly as her grip made his movements awkward. He jabbed her with the tip of his staff, the impact sharp and deliberate. "Don''t get in my way!" he barked, his voice low but commanding. His warm breath brushed against her ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. Vivian''s body seemed to soften further, her trembling ceasing as she melted into his grip. Annoyed, Leonard pushed her away with more force than necessary. Gripping the back of her neck as if handling a wayward kitten, he held her out at arm''s length. If anything dangerous appeared, he decided, she''d make an excellent distraction. Ahead, the earthworm''s signal grew more insistent. The corridor came to an end, opening into a massive chamber. Leonard stopped abruptly, his senses sharp. A faint sound of splashing water reached his ears, and the air grew colder. "Boss," a familiar voice called out softly from behind. Vivian jumped in fright, startled by the sudden interruption. David appeared, his disheveled figure wrapped in what remained of a tattered curtain he had fashioned into a makeshift cloak. His sly grin and the smug air of someone who always seemed to survive against the odds were all too familiar. "I followed you," David explained, holding up an oil lamp like a trophy. "Figured you might need this." "You couldn''t have mentioned this earlier?" Leonard snapped, irritation evident in his tone. The journey through the dark had been far from pleasant. David, unfazed, struck a flint and lit the lamp. The warm glow illuminated the chamber, casting eerie shadows across the pillars that supported the room. Now that Leonard could see clearly, he took in his surroundings. The room was divided, one half a solid stone floor, the other half turbulent, dark water. The water''s surface glistened ominously, and long chains dangled from the ceiling, disappearing into the murky depths. The chains creaked and swayed, as though something stirred beneath. Suddenly, the water rippled violently, and a dark mass began to rise. A figure, shrouded in what appeared to be tangled water weeds, emerged. The chains clinked as they moved, and a green, webbed hand gripped the edge of the stone floor with unnatural strength. Vivian screamed, scrambling to hide behind Leonard. A wet, grinning face emerged from the water, framed by algae-like hair that clung to the creature''s skull. Its sharp teeth gleamed as it leered at them. "Ah, my dear niece," the creature hissed, its voice guttural and mocking. "You''ve finally come to visit your uncle." Leonard''s eyes narrowed as he studied the creature. Its unnaturally long arms reached almost to its knees, and its sinewy body dripped with water. Rusted chains shackled its ankles, swaying as it climbed onto the stone floor. "I thought you''d forgotten about me," the water ghost sneered, tilting its head in a grotesque parody of affection. "But here you are. Did you miss me?" Vivian''s trembling intensified as she clung desperately to Leonard''s arm. The water ghost''s presence exuded malice, and its grin widened as it relished her fear. "Uncle," Leonard murmured, his tone cold as ice. He tightened his grip on his staff, his eyes scanning the room. The creature''s appearance reminded him of the water ghosts described by Big Gold Teeth: ghastly beings tethered to their watery graves. The water ghost loomed over them, its form massive and intimidating. It cackled, water dripping from its ragged frame. "Let''s have a little family reunion, shall we?" Chapter 34: Invading The Castle! Chapter 34: Invading The Castle!Vivian stared at the grotesque water ghost before her, her breath caught in her throat. The creature''s twisted form, with sunken eyes and an unnaturally elongated tongue, seemed otherworldly; yet disturbingly familiar. Her gaze lingered, her mind piecing together fragments of memory until the realization struck her like a thunderclap. "Uncle Dybala?" Vivian''s voice trembled, a mix of disbelief and dread. David, standing behind her, shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension. The monster''s form twitched, and its grotesque features cracked into a sinister grin. "Ah, Vivian," the voice rasped, barely human but unmistakable in its recognition. "It''s been so long, hasn''t it?" Vivian stumbled back, clutching David''s arm for support. This hideous, snarling beast couldn''t possibly be her uncle. Her memories painted a starkly different picture: a kind and gentle man, the very embodiment of elegance. Uncle Dybala had been the family''s pride, his sharp wit and noble demeanor renowned across the estate. But there was more; fragments of a scandal whispered in hushed tones. Dybala had been punished, exiled, for loving a civilian woman. Vivian had barely understood the gravity of it back then. All she knew was that Uncle Dybala had vanished, his name spoken only in guarded tones. And now he was here; changed, monstrous. "Uncle Dybala... what happened to you?" Her voice cracked, her question hanging in the air like a fragile thread. The creature tilted its head, the remnants of humanity flickering in its eyes. Then its gaze shifted, predatory, to David. "Tell me, Vivian," it crooned, its voice oily and full of malice. "Is this sweet-smelling morsel my gift? Your offering to your poor, forgotten uncle?" His blackened tongue snaked out, almost reaching his chest, a viscous liquid dripping onto the stones below. Vivian''s stomach churned. "Stop it! What are you saying? Uncle, why are you here?" The mention of her question seemed to snap something inside Dybala. His smile twisted into a grimace, his body shaking with rage. He slammed his fists against the stone floor, sending cracks splintering outward. "Why am I here? *Why?*" he roared. "Go ask your precious grandfather; my father! The man who condemned me! Who threw me into this pit to rot!" His voice was a storm, each word dripping with pain and fury. "They chose me, Vivian! *They made me this!*" He gestured to his monstrous form. "They turned me into this ghost!" Vivian stepped back, her knees weak. This wasn''t just anger; it was betrayal, heartbreak, vengeance; emotions distilled into something raw and terrifying. As his breathing slowed, Dybala''s voice dropped into something almost gentle, a broken whisper. "Tell me," he said, his eyes softening, almost pleading. "How is Sara? My Sara. They promised me... They promised to take care of her. To give her and my child a life of dignity. Did they keep their word?" The question pierced Vivian''s heart. Child? Her uncle had a child? She stared at him, bewildered, unable to summon a response. The confusion in her eyes was answer enough. Dybala''s expression darkened, his face twisting with grief and realization. "You don''t know, do you? You''ve never known. They lied to me." His voice dropped, hoarse and guttural. "It was all lies." "I... I didn''t know..." Vivian stammered, guilt and helplessness washing over her. Before she could say more, Leonard''s voice cut through the heavy silence. "Apologies for interrupting your... reunion," he said dryly, stepping forward. "But I need answers. Where are the others your family has taken? Are there more captives here, or elsewhere?" Dybala''s head snapped toward Leonard, his expression morphing into something predatory. "The others?" he repeated, his grin returning. "Oh, they''ve all been quite useful... as my meals." His tongue flicked out again, the grotesque appendage glistening. "Perhaps you''d like to join them? I''m always looking for new flavors." Leonard''s face remained impassive, though his eyes narrowed. "Not funny," he said flatly. Dybala''s laughter was a low, menacing rumble. "Dive into the water, and you''ll see for yourself. Bones, scattered like breadcrumbs. Perhaps last week''s dinner... or last month''s. Who''s to say?" He grinned wider, his teeth jagged and sharp. Leonard''s mind raced. Once a week, he thought. If Dybala hadn''t eaten recently, there was hope. His sister might still be alive; but the manor''s sprawling grounds posed a grim challenge. If she wasn''t here, she could be anywhere. He glanced at Vivian, whose pale face confirmed she knew nothing of these secrets. Dybala''s patience seemed to wear thin. He lunged forward, his claws aiming for Leonard, but the chains binding him snapped taut, halting his advance. The ground quaked as he roared in frustration, his claws mere inches from Leonard''s throat. Leonard remained calm, pulling Vivian back behind David. "Close, but not quite," he muttered, watching as Dybala snarled against his restraints. For now, they were safe. But Leonard knew time was running out and the answers they needed lay deeper in the Borrent family''s dark, twisted legacy. Dybala''s voice slithered through the damp air like a serpent. "Aren''t you afraid of me?" he asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and menace. Leonard didn''t flinch. "I''m not your enemy," he said simply, turning on his heel. His disinterest was deliberate, calculated. The last thing he wanted was to get tangled in the Borrent family''s internal chaos, especially when the other party seemed unwilling to cooperate. As he walked away, he gestured for Vivian to follow. Despite her hesitant steps, Leonard''s mind was already racing with plans. If he couldn''t find his sister through direct means, Vivian could serve as leverage. A hostage exchange might be his last resort. Behind him, David''s voice broke the silence. "Master, how did you know the chains couldn''t reach us?" Leonard glanced down at the floor beneath their feet. "Because of the line," he replied. "The line?" David echoed, puzzled. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard crouched slightly, motioning toward the faint semicircular mark etched into the stone. "It''s subtle, but it''s there. The center of that semicircle aligns perfectly with the point where the chains are fixed. Whoever created this boundary must have done so for their own safety, knowing how dangerous the water ghost could become. The chains can''t extend past this line." David''s eyes widened with realization. "You observed all that in such a short time?" Leonard didn''t respond. Instead, he kept his pace steady, leading Vivian and David toward the staircase. The atmosphere was tense but quiet until Dybala''s voice rumbled from behind them. "Wait," the creature called out, his tone unexpectedly restrained. Leonard kept walking, ignoring the plea. "Can you do me a favor?" Dybala asked, desperation creeping into his voice. Leonard paused but didn''t turn around. "I can tell you where my family keeps their captives," Dybala said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "My brother is a pedophile. If you don''t act quickly, the consequences... well, I doubt you''ll like them." Leonard''s steps halted, and he turned slightly, just enough to signal his interest. Dybala noticed and grinned, the satisfaction of manipulating someone evident on his monstrous face. "It''s simple," Dybala said. "Steal a key for me." Leonard raised his staff, its tip glowing faintly with a swirling purple light. "No need for such theatrics," he said coldly. The humid air coalesced around the staff, forming a liquid sphere brimming with acidic energy. Dybala''s eyes widened in alarm. For the first time, fear flickered across his grotesque features. Leonard wasn''t just another ordinary human. He possessed powers that didn''t require the monstrous transformations Dybala had endured. "Tell me what I need to know first," Leonard demanded, his voice sharp. Dybala swallowed hard, realizing he had no choice but to comply. "The secret lies in the study," he said quickly. "There''s a hidden room behind it. My brother kept... girls there. At least, that''s what I heard years ago. I can''t guarantee it hasn''t been moved since then. To access the room, there''s a black box hidden in the bookcase. Turn it, and the passage will open." Satisfied, Leonard muttered, "Acid Missile." The glowing orb launched from his staff, splashing against the iron chain securing Dybala. The acid hissed and bubbled, eating away at the metal. The chain, now weakened, held on by only a few threads. Dybala yanked at the chain, causing chunks of plaster to rain down from the ceiling. Though not completely free, it was clear that with his monstrous strength, he wouldn''t be held much longer. The creature let out a guttural laugh, his voice wild with anticipation. "My brother... my father... wait for me! I''ll make you pay for everything!" he roared, tugging at the chain with renewed vigor. Leonard didn''t wait to see the conclusion. He grabbed Vivian''s wrist and gestured for David to follow as they hurried out of the basement. The sound of Dybala''s frenzied efforts faded behind them. "You know where your father''s study is, don''t you?" Leonard asked Vivian as they ascended the staircase. Vivian, now visibly shaken by Leonard''s display of power, nodded obediently. "It''s on the second floor." They moved quickly, their footsteps muffled against the ornate carpet. As they entered the grand lobby, the bright lights and distant laughter of a party reached their ears. The stark contrast between the lively manor and the horrors of the basement was unsettling. "Is your family hosting a party?" Leonard asked, his tone laced with disdain. Vivian shrugged nonchalantly. "The daughter of a duke is visiting. My father and brothers are probably falling over themselves to impress her. Like a pack of stallions in heat." Her bitterness was evident. "Convenient," Leonard muttered. "It keeps them distracted." Vivian led them through the labyrinthine corridors, her knowledge of the manor proving invaluable. They reached her father''s study without incident. The heavy wooden door loomed before them, its ornate carvings a stark reminder of the Borrent family''s wealth and power. Vivian hesitated, glancing at Leonard. "This is it," she said softly. Leonard nodded. "Good. Let''s find the black box." With Vivian''s assistance, they entered the study, ready to uncover the secrets hidden within. Chapter 35: Rescue! Chapter 35: Rescue!Leonard turned the wooden box as instructed, and the entire room began to shift. The sound of hidden mechanisms grinding together echoed through the study. He noticed the bookshelves trembling, and in the corner of the adjacent shelf, a small section rotated inward, revealing a secret compartment. Slowly, the hidden panel slid aside, exposing a passageway behind the bookshelf. "Interesting," Leonard muttered as he stepped forward to inspect the space. It wasn''t just a compartment, it was an entrance. Beyond the secret panel lay a narrow passage descending into shadowy depths. He could hear faint noises echoing from within, barely audible over the silence of the room. "We''re going in," he said, glancing at Vivian. "David, stay here and guard the entrance. Shout if anything unusual happens." David gave a slight nod, taking her position near the passage. Leonard led Vivian into the dark corridor, their footsteps muffled by the stone beneath them. The air was damp and cool, carrying the faint scent of decay. The passage spiraled downward, its steps worn smooth with time. Leonard estimated they had descended at least half a floor when they reached the bottom, a solid wooden door barred their way. From the other side of the door came faint, rhythmic knocking. It was uneven, desperate, and sent chills racing up Vivian''s spine. She clutched Leonard''s arm instinctively. Leonard examined the door. There was no visible way to open it, at least not without a key, but Leonard wasn''t about to let that stop him. "Step back from the door," he called out firmly, directing his voice to whoever or whatever; was on the other side. "I''m going to open it." The knocking abruptly stopped, replaced by a tense silence. Leonard raised his staff, its tip glowing faintly with the beginnings of a spell. For a moment, he cursed his limited arsenal. Without the more advanced magic that Angele''s wand could have provided, he was stuck relying on the basics. Still, he could make it work. "Acid Missile," he intoned. The spell fired, a sizzling projectile of corrosive energy striking the wooden door dead center. A loud hiss filled the air as thick white smoke billowed from the impact. The acid ate through the wood with alarming efficiency, leaving behind a jagged, blackened hole. Leonard peered through the opening, his heart leaping when he saw the room beyond. It was small and sparsely furnished, the stone walls barren save for a single flickering torch. In the middle of the room stood a small, trembling figure. "Ava," Leonard breathed, relief washing over him. The little girl stood frozen, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. Her wide, tearful eyes locked onto Leonard through the opening. For a moment, she seemed unsure if he was real. She rubbed her eyes furiously, as if trying to dispel an illusion, but when her vision cleared, Leonard was still there. "Brother!" Ava''s voice cracked as the tears began to fall. She rushed forward as Leonard pushed open the damaged door, scooping her into his arms. "It''s okay now," he said softly, his tone steady. "Brother''s here. I''ll take you away from this place." Ava clung to him with all her strength, burying her face in his chest. She was trembling, her small frame shaking with sobs. Leonard held her close, his hand gently patting her back. When they emerged from the passage, Leonard couldn''t help but notice David''s... outfit. He had somehow discarded the tattered old curtain he''d been wearing and replaced it with a luxurious black and gold velvet drape, complete with two holes cut out for his eyes. "New battle suit?" Leonard quipped, raising an eyebrow. David tilted his head slightly, a silent acknowledgment of his observation. "Fine," Leonard said with a shrug. "As long as it works." They moved swiftly and quietly, exiting through a side path to avoid the manor''s main halls. From a distance, they could hear the sounds of chaos; screams and shouts echoing from the direction of the banquet. Whatever trouble Dybala was stirring, it was spreading fast. "Not my problem," Leonard muttered, adjusting Ava''s position in his arms. As they walked, Vivian''s voice cut through the tense silence. "So... are you planning to take me away too?" she asked, her tone laced with both sarcasm and resignation. Leonard glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "I''m sorry," he said dryly. "I haven''t mastered the spell to erase memories yet." Before Vivian could respond, the ground beneath her feet trembled. She let out a startled scream as the soil gave way, revealing the massive maw of an earthworm-like creature. The beast closed its mouthparts around Vivian and disappeared into the ground, leaving nothing but smooth earth behind. Leonard sighed, adjusting his grip on Ava. "Convenient." Ava, still clinging to him, blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Have you been living in a place like this?" Leonard asked her gently, his voice softening as he carried her further away from the manor. The salty tang of sea air drifted toward them, mingling with the sound of waves crashing in the distance. Ava nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was so dark, brother... so dark and cold." Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard tightened his hold on her, his jaw clenching as he glanced toward the horizon. "You''re safe now," he said firmly. "No one will hurt you again." As the cold sea wind brushed against his face, Leonard resolved to put as much distance as possible between them and the horrors of the Bolent family''s twisted legacy. ---- "Ava, you''re safe now" Leonard said softly, his voice filled with warmth and relief. The little girl buried her head into his chest, her muffled reply as soft as a whisper. "Yeah..." Leonard''s grip on her tightened protectively as they approached the modest home. The familiar creak of the wooden door greeted him as he pushed it open, stepping into the dimly lit room. "Mom, I brought Ava back," he called out, his voice steady yet tinged with emotion. Angelina, frail but alert, looked up from her seat near the hearth. Her weary face brightened at the sight of her son, her surprise melting into joy as she noticed the small figure clutching Leonard''s hand. "Leonard!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with relief. "You''re home!" Her energy seemed to surge, her posture straightening as if her illness had momentarily vanished. Leonard guided Ava forward gently. "Mom, I''m back," he said, his tone soft but resolute. Ava clung to his side, her wide eyes darting around the room. Angelina reached out toward them, her voice quivering with worry. "Where have you been all this time? I thought..." She paused, her voice catching. "I thought something might have happened." Leonard hesitated for a moment, then smiled faintly. "I had help. A kind person looked out for me," he said, his thoughts drifting to Angele. Though cold and distant to others, Angele had been more than generous to him. "But that''s behind us now." He glanced around the damp, modest home, his brow furrowing. "This place isn''t good for you, Mom. It''s too cold and damp. We need to move somewhere better for your health." Angelina hesitated, her expression a mix of concern and practicality. "It''s late, Leonard. Finding a new place will take time..." Leonard nodded, understanding her worry. "Then we''ll wait until morning," he assured her. "But we''re moving, no matter what." --- By the next day, Leonard had wasted no time. Through an agent, he secured a cozy three-story loft with a small garden in a safer neighborhood far from the harbor. The area was well-patrolled by security, and Leonard took care to avoid locations near the river, preferring stability over risk. The loft was bathed in sunlight, a stark contrast to their previous home, and offered the comfort his mother needed to recover. With his family finally safe, Leonard turned his attention to another pressing matter: finding David''s wife. Using his connections, Leonard contacted Golden Tooth, a known informant with extensive underground ties. Despite his efforts, however, there were no immediate leads. David''s unease was palpable. His tail twitched restlessly as he stood near Leonard, his golden eyes darting toward him anxiously. "Don''t worry," Leonard said reassuringly, placing a hand on David''s shoulder. "Golden Tooth has the right connections. As soon as there''s news, he''ll let us know." David nodded, though the tension in his frame remained. "I trust you, Master," he said, his voice soft but sincere. "Thank you for keeping your promise." Leonard smiled faintly. "I don''t forget my promises," he said. Then, after a moment''s thought, he asked, "Can you contact Serena? She might know something." David tilted his head, his ears twitching slightly. "I don''t know," he admitted. "When we neared Bangor Harbor, I couldn''t sense her anymore. Serena''s elusive. If she doesn''t want to be found, it''s impossible to track her; even if she were standing right in front of me." Leonard nodded thoughtfully. He understood Serena''s mysterious nature all too well. Even his own heightened senses couldn''t always detect her presence unless she allowed it. Still, the possibility of Serena''s help lingered in his mind. Chapter 36: Experiment! Chapter 36: Experiment!For the next four days, Leonard focused inward. With his family safe and his immediate concerns addressed, he retreated to his alchemy laboratory, dedicating himself to study and meditation. Each day passed in a blur of concentration as Leonard worked tirelessly on a new spell framework. Hours turned into days, but he barely noticed the passage of time, his mind absorbed in the intricacies of magical construction. His progress was steady, and for the first time in months, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The knot of worry that had plagued him for so long was finally unraveling. On the evening of the fourth day, Leonard''s efforts bore fruit. In the vast expanse of his spiritual sea, the spell framework took shape, a complex pattern of forty-seven nodes aligned with meticulous precision. The layout radiated an almost tangible power, its mysterious symmetry a testament to Leonard''s growing mastery. He opened his eyes, the dim light of the alchemy lab casting sharp shadows across his face. Despite his exhaustion, a spark of excitement lit his features. "The first step is complete," he murmured, his voice tinged with triumph. "Now, for the second." To construct a spell framework, the first step is fixing the nodes; a process akin to laying the foundation for a house. Without a sturdy base, everything else would crumble. Each node represents a critical point in the structure of the spell, and placing them with precision requires intense focus and control. The second step is connecting these nodes, which, while still intricate, is relatively simpler than the first. Using the method outlined in the magic book, Leonard guided his mental energy to form connections between the nodes in a prescribed order. It was a meticulous task: forty-seven nodes in total, each connection creating a web of magical intent. The sheer number of possible configurations was overwhelming; countless combinations even for a basic zero-ring spell. Leonard marveled at the ingenuity of the wizard who must have spent years perfecting this magic. Despite its complexity, Leonard found that the process of connecting nodes became easier with practice. The first connection took him nearly fifteen minutes, but by the fifth, he had reduced his time to just ten. With steady progress, he estimated he would complete the entire framework by the next day. After several hours of painstaking work, Leonard leaned back and stretched, feeling the ache in his muscles. As he did, the metal contraption at the foot of his bed, a peculiar magic cube; began to rotate, its grooves illuminating with a soft light. Beams of magic flickered out, projecting patterns across the dim room. Leonard stood in his small bedroom on the third floor, a cozy space tucked just below the attic. The room was well-ventilated, with a single window that let in the fresh northern breeze. On the desk by the window sat a mechanical alarm clock and two well-worn books: ''Chronicles of the Kingdom'' and ''Heddinger''s Botany''. Leonard had asked his brother, James, to purchase them during his last trip to the bookstore. Though Bangor Port was at the forefront of the kingdom''s trade and culture, bookstores were still a rare commodity. Leonard had been fortunate to get his hands on these two volumes, though they turned out to be vastly different in value. S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. He flipped through ''Chronicles of the Kingdom'' with mild disdain. The book, meant to recount the history of the Kingdom of Erdoru, was nothing more than a glorified advertisement for the royal family and nobility. Wars of conquest were rebranded as heroic recoveries of lost territory, and every achievement seemed calculated to flatter the ruling class. Still, it wasn''t entirely useless, it provided Leonard with a clearer picture of the kingdom''s power structure. The kingdom had a royal family, a single surviving princely bloodline, and a network of noble titles: three dukes, six marquises, ten earls, and countless viscounts and barons. Leonard had also gleaned interesting tidbits about the dukes: - The Duke of Cuckoo, also called the "Blood Azalea," ruled the northernmost territories. His lands were the kingdom''s first line of defense against northern invaders, and his emblem''s crimson azalea was said to be dyed with the blood of his enemies. - The Duke of Phoenix Claw, allied closely with the royal family, controlled a fertile forest within the kingdom. Generations of loyalty had solidified their power and status. - The Duke of Golden Lion, whose territory lay in the west, remained an enigma. The book offered little information, leaving Leonard curious about what secrets the west might hold. In contrast to the dry, propagandistic ''Chronicles'', ''Heddinger''s Botany'' was a treasure trove of practical knowledge. It detailed the appearance, properties, and uses of various plants, many of which Leonard recognized as key ingredients for alchemical potions. One plant, in particular, caught his eye: the ''Glimmer Mushroom'', a vital component for body-activating potions. Known locally as the "Cave Blood-Lifting Mushroom," this fungus thrived in cool, damp environments and was rich in active compounds. While its medicinal properties made it effective for treating external injuries, long-term use caused granulation tissue to grow over wounds; an unwanted side effect. Over time, the mushroom fell out of favor among the wealthy, but poorer folk continued to use it out of necessity. Leonard made a mental note to find and harvest some for his potion experiments. --- The next morning, Leonard returned to his spell framework, energized by his progress. Fixing the nodes had been an arduous process, but connecting them was almost meditative. The mental power he channeled seemed to flow more naturally, and by evening, he had linked the final nodes, forming a complete framework. In his spiritual sea, the pattern of forty-seven interconnected nodes shone like a constellation, a web of energy waiting to be activated. As he leaned back in his chair, exhaustion swept over him, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. "The first step is done," he muttered to himself. "Now for the second." His alchemy lab, tucked away in the corner of his attic room, was a testament to his dedication. Shelves lined with vials, ingredients, and tools glimmered faintly in the lamplight. He knew the path to mastering magic was long, but with each success, whether a spell framework or a potion recipe, he felt himself growing stronger. For now, Leonard allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. Tomorrow, there would be more challenges to face, but tonight, he let the quiet triumph of his progress settle over him like a warm cloak. ---- In recent years, with the opening of Bangor Port, a steady influx of knowledge and resources from other kingdoms had begun reshaping local practices. Among the changes was the gradual phasing out of the cave blood-activating mushroom, a once-popular remedy for external injuries. As better alternatives became available, the mushroom''s side effects; causing unsightly granulation tissue, rendered it obsolete among all but the poorest. Recognizing its value for his own purposes, Leonard asked James to visit the market and pharmacies to gather as many cave Blood-Lifting mushrooms as possible. He also tasked James with procuring additional herbs and even rare glassware, which Leonard needed for his alchemical experiments. --- That evening, the family gathered in the small dining room for dinner. The scent of fennel fish stew filled the room, the spicy tang of red pepper giving the dish a vibrant kick. Angelina had been cooking Leonard''s favorite meals every day since his return, as if her culinary efforts could anchor her son to home. At the table, Hamilton shifted uncomfortably, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating. Leonard noticed his father''s furtive glances and decided to address it directly. Wiping the corners of his mouth, he set down his spoon. "Father, is there something on your mind?" he asked calmly. Hamilton glanced at Angelina for support before clearing his throat. "I''ve been thinking," he began, his tone cautious. "Your mother and I have discussed it, and we think it''s time to start something new. The money we have now won''t last forever, and... we want to open a tailor shop together. What do you think?" A rare note of nervousness crept into his voice as he waited for Leonard''s response. Leonard''s lips curled into a smile. "That''s a great idea, Father," he said, his tone warm. "It''s good for you and Mom to have something to focus on." Hamilton''s shoulders relaxed visibly, and a shy smile broke through his usual stoicism. "We were hoping you''d think so," he said, emboldened. "We''ve planned it out. The income from the shop will go toward daily expenses, and whatever''s left will be saved for James and Ava. If you want, we can set some aside for you too." Leonard shook his head firmly. "No need to save anything for me," he said. "You and Mom should use the money for yourselves. It''ll help you build a secure future." Hamilton blinked in surprise, his expression softening. He studied Leonard''s face for a moment, as if searching for something unspoken. His lips twitched, but he said nothing, lowering his gaze instead. Angelina broke the silence, ladling more stew into Leonard''s bowl. "Eat while it''s still warm," she urged, her voice gentle. "You''ve been working hard lately." Chapter 37: Unqualified! Later that evening, James returned from the market, carrying a sack filled with herbs. His face lit up as he approached Leonard, his admiration evident. "Brother, I got everything you asked for," he said, handing over the bag. "I even heard a foreign merchant might have the glassware you need, but he wasn¡¯t in town today. I¡¯ll check again tomorrow." Leonard took the bag and nodded. "Good work, James," he said, rifling through the contents. James¡¯s eyes shone with a mixture of pride and curiosity. He had always seen Leonard as someone smarter and more capable than himself, but since his brother¡¯s return, there was an air of mystery about him that James couldn¡¯t resist. "Thank you," Leonard added, his tone sincere. James grinned and dashed off, satisfied with his contribution. --- That night, Leonard sat at his desk, his focus entirely on the blueprint he was sketching. The slightly yellowed paper was covered in precise lines and notes detailing the shapes of the apparatus he needed for his next alchemical experiment. A soft sound came from behind him, and without looking up, Leonard spoke. "Haven¡¯t found anything yet, have you?" David, who had just climbed onto the balcony, shook his head. "No," he said, his voice low. "Still no sign of him." Leonard sighed and nodded. "Keep looking." When Leonard purchased the family¡¯s new home, he had also secured the small building next door as a base for his alchemical work. David had moved in, and at Leonard¡¯s instruction, James left food at the door every day for David to collect discreetly. --- As Leonard continued his experiments, a pattern began to emerge in his mind. He remembered how, during his time in his teacher¡¯s cabin, daily tasks would often trigger seemingly random benefits. Yet now, despite cooking or rearranging his laboratory, no such tasks appeared. He pondered the mystery. Was it because the tasks were tied to the magical nature of the creatures he had cared for in the cabin? Or perhaps they were assigned specifically by his teacher, and not random at all? Another possibility lingered in his mind: the tasks might only trigger when a full experiment was conducted, not simply by organizing or performing mundane tasks. "I need to test this theory," he murmured to himself, tapping his pencil against the desk. If completing a full experiment could yield even greater rewards, it would be worth the effort. The thought of unlocking new knowledge filled Leonard with quiet determination. He would conduct the experiment meticulously, observing every step, and see if the results proved his theory. If he was right, the rewards could accelerate his progress in ways he could only imagine. For now, he had work to do, and he was ready to embrace the challenge. "Have we been abandoned?" David asked, his voice tinged with confusion. He glanced at Leonard, waiting for an answer, his eyes filled with uncertainty. Ever since he¡¯d been transformed into a lizard man, David felt more vulnerable than ever. Once a human, now a creature rejected by society, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of being an outcast. Though he¡¯d never dared to try it, David was certain that if he shed his cloak and walked down the street, he¡¯d be met with terrified screams and horrified stares. The only person who seemed to accept him for what he had become was the boy standing in front of him. "No," Leonard answered after a brief pause. "At least, I won¡¯t disappear without a trace." The next morning, Leonard focused on the intricate framework of the sleeping spell he had just completed in his mind. It was like a tiny diorama, a complex design almost impossible to explain with words. As the last node fell into place, the entire spell framework clicked together seamlessly. Leonard noticed how detailed the model was. This marked the successful creation of the zero-ring sleeping spell. But, there was one thing left: a test subject. Heading out to the backyard, Leonard noticed the soil on the lawn shifting. Within moments, a metallic head emerged; a small iron earthworm, oblivious to the fate it was about to face. There were two ways to cast the sleeping spell. The first method, which didn¡¯t require reciting an incantation, was more discreet. However, it wasn¡¯t entirely invisible. When casting, the mental energy needed would cause a noticeable surge in Leonard¡¯s mind. This wouldn¡¯t be sensed by ordinary people or creatures with weak mental faculties. But for those with comparable or greater mental power, the surge would be apparent, and the spell would take longer to cast. The second method involved speaking the incantation aloud, making the spell easier to detect. However, the advantage of this approach was speed; casting the spell was significantly quicker. Leonard wasn¡¯t sure exactly how much faster, as his magic book only mentioned that proficiency would improve casting speed with incantations. Raising his right hand, Leonard focused his mental energy on the spell framework. It was like turning on a faucet; his mental power flowed into the spell as he concentrated. Minutes later, more than a quarter of his mental energy had vanished. Leonard realized this consumed almost twice as much as casting a similar spell with a wand. Was it because the wand conserved energy, or was it due to the spells being engraved on it? Leonard pondered this, but the task at hand remained. As he successfully cast the spell, a swirling gray-white mist formed in his palm; just like the one he had seen Teacher Alfonso create. Without hesitation, he directed the mist toward the iron earthworm. In an instant, the mist seeped into the creature¡¯s body, causing it to freeze. The earthworm fell lifelessly to the ground. When Leonard tried to contact it through his metal ring, he felt nothing, there was no response. Leonard understood now the range and speed of the sleeping spell. He took out his staff and cast the spell again. This time, as his mental energy drained, Leonard felt an unexpected force emanating from the staff. It was strong, persistent, and seemed to replenish his energy as he cast. It didn¡¯t take long for him to realize: the staff was the key to reducing his mental strain. With the staff, his magic was far more efficient. Without it, Leonard could only cast about three zero-level spells before exhausting himself. But with the staff, he could easily manage six or seven. Checking his progress, Leonard examined his stats: Leonard - Level: 3 (0/100) - Physical fitness: 1.63 - Mental strength: 3.7 - Mastery: Earth Ring Meditation (11%) - Life Occupation: - Level 1 Mutation (11%) (0/10) - Level 1 Blood Science (1%) (0/10) - General Experience: 0 His physical fitness had improved slightly; just 0.01, a minor increase, but his mental strength had received a significant boost thanks to his level-up and the meditation techniques he had been practicing. Leonard estimated that without the staff, casting a zero-ring spell would consume a full unit of mental energy. But with the staff, that consumption was halved, bringing it down to just 0.5. For an ordinary person with no enhanced mental power, casting a zero-ring spell without a wand would completely drain them. Even with a wand, it could still leave them exhausted. "Brother, I bought the glassware you wanted, but the merchant jacked up the price and asked for two more gold coins," James grumbled, holding the laboratory equipment. "I swear, I almost wanted to hit him with a club when I saw his sly face. Two extra gold coins, what a scam!" James felt guilty, thinking he¡¯d failed his brother by spending more than necessary. ¡¯How many loaves of bread could I have bought with that extra two gold coins?¡¯ "It¡¯s okay," Leonard reassured him, checking the glassware James had brought back. "As long as we can use it for the experiment, it¡¯s worth it." Apparently, the glassware had originally belonged to a priest who had a keen interest in pharmacology. But after something happened to the priest, the merchant was left with it and had priced it at a premium, selling it to Leonard for a hefty sum. Leonard inspected the glassware, making sure everything was in order, and then gave James a pat on the shoulder. "Good job, brother." James beamed, filled with energy after the praise. Later, after dinner, Leonard couldn¡¯t wait to dive into his work. He hurried back to his room, carrying the glassware into his alchemical lab. He also took out the herbs he¡¯d asked James to buy for him a couple of days ago. "Now, let me think... What else do I need?" Leonard rubbed his forehead, mentally reviewing the steps. To make the potion, it was best to use pure water and a flame that maintained a constant temperature. Pure water had to be condensed using magic, but distilled water would work as a substitute. For the flame, an alcohol lamp could create a simpler, low-end version of a constant flame. He had already prepared everything he needed, placing the items carefully on the table. Step by step, he began extracting the plant essences, heating, mixing, and stirring different herbs in precise proportions as his mind followed the knowledge stored within it. It took nearly two hours. At the end, Leonard looked at the dark purple-black liquid in the test tube with a frown. He had hoped for a turquoise color, but this was all wrong. What went wrong? He retraced the steps in his mind. His head started to ache with frustration, but then, a notification flashed across his vision. "Daily task completed: Experiment (I)¡ªA low-difficulty experiment." Completion level: Unqualified (¦ç) Reward: None Leonard¡¯s heart sank. Unqualified? He had hoped for at least a "pass." But there was more: An expandable symbol appeared next to the "Unqualified" rating. As Leonard expanded it, an explanation appeared: "Completion: Unqualified (¦æ) - Error ¢Ù: The yellow bud grass was not thoroughly stirred during extraction. - Error ¢Ú: The neutralizer was not preheated for 30 seconds; it exceeded the time by 2 seconds. - Error ¢Û: (Additional notes)" Leonard was surprised to find a detailed explanation. While it was just a text breakdown, it was far more useful than nothing. Now, he could avoid making the same mistakes next time. He quickly grabbed a notebook and wrote down all the errors. Then, he began cleaning up the lab equipment on the table. "Daily task completed: Clean the laboratory (II)¡ªKeep the lab clean." Completion: Pass Reward: 10 general experience points The difficulty of the cleaning task seemed much lower compared to the experiment. Leonard wondered if the evaluation criteria for the lab cleaning were tied to how well the lab was maintained. But even with the low difficulty, he was still curious why the experiment had only been marked as "unqualified." Was it really so hard to earn an excellent rating? Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Chapter 38: Disappearance of Borrent Family! After finishing the experiment, Leonard collapsed onto his bed, his body tired but his mind still buzzing with thoughts. He needed to meditate. Sitting cross-legged, he closed his eyes, focused on his breathing, and let his mind drift inward. His thoughts quieted, and he began to focus on the energy circulating within him. Slowly, the image of the earth ring in his mind began to take shape, each ring carefully condensing, layer by layer, until the twelfth one solidified into place. A cool current of energy flowed through him, and a wave of clarity washed over his mind. He opened his eyes, the familiar panel appearing before him, showing the progress of his meditation. His mental attribute had increased by another 0.1, and the Earth Ring Meditation Method had advanced to 12%. "It¡¯s slow, but it¡¯s working," Leonard thought, stretching out his stiff limbs. Condensing an earth ring typically took about three days, so he estimated that it would take him 24 days to reach 20% progress in the meditation method. At that point, the difficulty of meditation would likely spike, but he felt confident that he was making steady progress. ¡¯I wonder how fast other apprentices are progressing?¡¯ Leonard thought, tapping his fingers against his legs. He remembered what Teacher Angele had said about wizard apprentices being divided into three levels: first-level, second-level, and third-level. ¡¯What exactly are the criteria for these levels?¡¯ Leonard wondered. ¡¯I¡¯d probably be considered a first-level wizard apprentice by now.¡¯ He paused, chewing on the thought. His mind felt clear, but he still didn¡¯t fully understand what separated the different levels of apprentices. ¡¯I¡¯ll have to ask teacher next time.¡¯ S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The next day, Leonard returned to the laboratory. His mind buzzed with the summary of the previous night¡¯s failure. He had learned from his mistakes and was ready to try again. With a steady hand, he began the experiment, his focus sharper this time. After a few hours, a dark green potion stood before him. The color still wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was much closer than before. Leonard checked the results. "Daily task completed: Experiment (I)¡ªCompleted an experiment of very low difficulty." Completion level: Pass (¦ç) Reward: 10 general experience points, 1% mutation progress. A wave of energy surged through his mind, and suddenly, a door within his spiritual realm swung open. A rush of new knowledge poured into him, filling his mind with concepts he hadn¡¯t yet grasped. Leonard closed his eyes, letting the knowledge flood over him, feeling an overwhelming sense of comfort and satisfaction. ¡¯This is what it feels like to grow,¡¯ he thought, his mind racing with the possibilities that the new knowledge brought. Even though the experiment was only rated "Pass," when Leonard expanded the details, he found that he had made six mistakes. Five of them were small, related to timing and the way he handled the raw materials. But the sixth was a major error in the proportions of the ingredients. ¡¯It¡¯s a good thing these mistakes didn¡¯t ruin the potion entirely,¡¯ Leonard reflected, studying the bottle of dark green liquid in his hands. ¡¯They only affected the quality, not the overall effectiveness.¡¯ But as he examined the test tube, a problem arose. He had no proper container to store the potion. He frowned. ¡¯I can¡¯t just leave it in the test tube.¡¯ The potion¡¯s volatility and oxidizing properties weren¡¯t strong, so it would likely last exposed to the air for a while, but Leonard knew it wouldn¡¯t be ideal. Without any other option, he plugged the test tube with a stopper, setting it aside for the moment. After cleaning up the lab, Leonard received his reward for completing the task. "Daily task completed: Clean the laboratory (II)¡ªKeep the lab clean." Completion: Pass Reward: 10 general experience points. That made a total of 20 experience points for the day. ¡¯That¡¯s much better than before,¡¯ Leonard mused, wiping down the lab counters. ¡¯If I keep up with the daily tasks, I¡¯ll level up in no time.¡¯ But then a thought struck him. ¡¯What if I do two experiments every day?¡¯ He was curious, but a part of him hesitated. He remembered what Teacher Angele had said about daily tasks. Angele had once completed two experiments in one day, and Leonard had also cleaned the lab twice on the same day without receiving double rewards. It seemed that daily tasks could only be completed once per day, no matter how many tasks were actually done. Much like cooking, you could only trigger the reward once, no matter how many meals you made. Still, Leonard decided to push forward. With the fire of curiosity burning within him, he took some extra time out of his day for another experiment. By now, his movements were more fluid, his thoughts more organized. The second experiment progressed smoothly, and Leonard was able to complete it five minutes faster than the previous one. When he examined the resulting potion, it was almost perfect. The color of the liquid had shifted to a much closer shade of turquoise. ¡¯It¡¯s so close,¡¯ Leonard thought, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. ¡¯Almost perfect.¡¯ But when he checked his task completion, he saw that it hadn¡¯t triggered the reward. ¡¯It figures,¡¯ he thought with a small sigh. ¡¯Tasks of the same type can only be triggered once a day.¡¯ He tucked the idea away for future reference but couldn¡¯t help feeling a little disappointed. ¡¯Maybe tomorrow will be better.¡¯ "I think tomorrow¡¯s experiment might get a higher rating than just passing," Leonard mused quietly to himself as he cleaned up his work area. His fingers brushed against the test tubes, a sense of determination in his chest. ¡¯I¡¯ll nail it next time.¡¯ Meanwhile, at the old pier, the night was thick with an eerie quiet. The only light visible was the flickering flame from the lighthouse, casting a cold, lonely glow over the dark waters. A chill wind blew in from the sea, carrying with it the scent of salt and something heavier, more unsettling. Inside a dimly lit room, Gold Tooth, sat by a dusty window, listening intently as his subordinates reported on recent events. His men spoke in hushed tones, careful not to disturb the grim atmosphere that hung heavy in the air. "Sir, the hole in the ground¡­ it¡¯s been refilled, but the new floor doesn¡¯t match the old one," one of the men said nervously, glancing over at Golden Tooth, as if unsure how the boss would react. Golden Tooth didn¡¯t even glance up. Instead, his gaze fixed on the floor, his mind replaying the memories of that day, the day the hole had been dug. ¡¯That damned day¡­¡¯ Every time he saw the uneven patchwork of the floor, the past gnawed at him. It brought back the feeling of something dark and unavoidable. "That hole... reminds me of how deep the trouble goes," he muttered under his breath. But he didn¡¯t need to dwell on it; his mind was already elsewhere, pulled by more recent events. His subordinate hesitated before continuing, sensing the shift in Golden Tooth¡¯s mood. "There¡¯s been word... something major happened at the Borrent family¡¯s estate a few days ago. Rumor has it that many of the distinguished guests at their banquet never came out." Golden Tooth¡¯s face darkened at the mention of the Borrent family. "What do you mean, ¡¯never came out¡¯?" His voice was low and dangerous. "Nobody knows exactly what happened," the man replied. "But the word on the street is... many of them died that day. The Borrent patriarch included." Golden Tooth¡¯s hand clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palm. ¡¯The patriarch¡¯s dead?¡¯ He had been so close to the Borrent family recently, even more so when a certain someone had asked him about them. ¡¯That guy...¡¯ Golden Tooth¡¯s mind flashed back to the earlier conversation, the one that now seemed to carry so much weight. ¡¯Could it be¡­?¡¯ He let out a slow breath, trying to keep his composure. "Do they know who did it?" "Not exactly, sir, but... there¡¯s talk of a connection to someone who¡¯s been asking a lot of questions lately." His subordinate glanced around cautiously. "Some say it was a violent event, and there are whispers that whoever¡¯s behind it is dangerous." Golden Tooth¡¯s heart raced. His mind conjured a picture of that man, the one who had asked him about the Borrent family not long ago. ¡¯Could he be involved?¡¯ A dark thought crept into Golden Town¡¯s mind. ¡¯What if I¡¯m tangled up in something far bigger than I realize?¡¯ He rubbed his face with both hands, as though trying to physically wipe away the growing unease. "I need to make sure no one talks," he said coldly, eyes narrowing. "Especially those who were involved." His subordinates nodded quickly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course, Boss. We¡¯ll take care of it." But Golden Tooth wasn¡¯t so sure. He was beginning to see the connections between the dots, and they painted a troubling picture. He had seen enough in his years at the docks to know that when powerful people were involved, things could spiral out of control fast. The Borrent family; nobles, powerful and tangled in layers of alliances, was not a family to trifle with. Golden Tooth had learned long ago that the nobility¡¯s web of relationships was like a massive tree, with roots so entangled beneath the surface that even the slightest pull could bring everything crashing down. The idea of going against such a network was terrifying. ¡¯Especially after what happened to the patriarch...¡¯ His thoughts turned to the recent developments. The Borrent family had been recruiting ships at the old docks, which was strange. There were countless shipping companies in Bangor Port, all tied to various noble families, but the Borrent family had never seemed interested in leaving the city. ¡¯Why would they suddenly need so many ships?¡¯ He shook his head. Something didn¡¯t sit right. ¡¯Maybe it¡¯s all just rumors. Maybe they¡¯re just preparing for something big...¡¯ But as a man who had spent decades in the underground world, Golden Tooth knew better than to ignore these kinds of whispers. "They¡¯re not planning to go out to sea," he muttered under his breath, standing up from his chair. "The Borrent family doesn¡¯t need to. Not when the ships and businesses in the port already provide everything they need." A deep frown furrowed his brow. The ships, the mysterious deaths, the secrecy, it all pointed to something darker, something more dangerous. But Golden Tooth didn¡¯t want to get tangled in it. ¡¯Stay out of it. Let them handle their own problems. Just stay out of it, and everything will be fine.¡¯ The man stood by the window for a long while, watching the waves crash against the pier, his thoughts racing. ¡¯But what if I¡¯m already too involved? What if it¡¯s already too late?¡¯ The wind outside howled louder, as if in response to his unease, and Golden Tooth turned away from the window, a decision solidifying in his mind. ¡¯Whatever happens, I can¡¯t let anyone find out what I know. I need to cover my tracks before it¡¯s too late.¡¯ Chapter 39: Sea God’s Treasure! In the dead of night, a dense fog rolled through the streets, shrouding everything in its wet, ghostly embrace. A shadowy figure vaulted over a wall and landed quietly in a yard. "Stop," a voice called from the next door, cutting through the stillness. The figure paused mid-motion, and as the fog parted around him, his true form emerged. His limbs were unnaturally long, nearly brushing the ground, and his face was a cold, cyan mask of rigidity. Dybala stood tall, eyes flicking up to the creature on the second-floor balcony nearby, another being as inhuman as himself. The creature¡¯s yellow-orange eyes glowed with murderous intent, its scaled body rippling as it glared down at Dybala. A dark chuckle escaped Dybala¡¯s lips. "I remember you. You were with the others that day. Looks like I didn¡¯t come to the wrong place." David¡¯s gaze locked onto the deep sword wound on Dybala¡¯s right chest, barely held together. "Arrogant, even with that wound?" he sneered. The gash was horrific, nearly cleaving Dybala¡¯s chest in two, the raw flesh inside exposed and pulsing faintly. Dybala grinned. "Ah, this old thing. The guy with the sword nearly finished me off that day. But, you know, I came here with good intentions, and now you¡¯re just making sure no one knows you secretly freed me." "You¡¯re threatening me," David growled, his fists tightening in rage. He had to protect the peace of the night and his master from disturbance. Dybala¡¯s sinister smile widened. "Oh, maybe I¡¯ve been a little rude. But time¡¯s running short." He tilted his head, his voice dripping with mockery. "Seems I showed up at the wrong time, but don¡¯t worry. Your boss will make a different call. I¡¯ll be back here at this time tomorrow." "Wait, you still haven¡¯t told me what you want," David said, the madness of the situation sinking in. This guy was truly unhinged. Dybala scratched his head, feigning confusion. "Didn¡¯t I? Alright, let me explain again. Even though your master fled, they still suspect I have help. They keep asking me about my allies. But don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m a man of my word. I didn¡¯t tell them anything¡ªI said I escaped on my own." His grin turned wider. "Well, if they figure it out, that¡¯s on them. So, I¡¯m asking you: what do you think? Want to kill them and silence them for good? Then all the family wealth, including whatever¡¯s tied to Poseidon¡¯s inheritance, will be yours. Tempting, right?" He burst into manic laughter, his voice loud enough to wake the dead. David scowled, irritated by the outburst. It was strange; despite Dybala¡¯s shrill cackling, the other residents of the neighborhood remained undisturbed, as though they couldn¡¯t hear a thing. With that, Dybala melted into the fog and vanished. --- The next morning, Leonard opened his window and saw the small blue flag David had hung as a warning. After breakfast, he headed over to David¡¯s house to hear the full story. "Did he really say all that?" Leonard asked, eyes narrowing. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Yep. He snuck into the yard last night, but I chased him off," David replied, his tone grim. Leonard frowned, sensing the threat in Dybala¡¯s words. "He¡¯s after something¡­ something connected to the sea god¡¯s inheritance. But I¡¯m not interested in all that gold and jewelry. I have enough already. What good is more?" Dybala had mentioned an inheritance tied to the god of the sea, and Leonard couldn¡¯t help but recall his first encounter with him. Dybala had been trapped at the bottom of the water, bound by thick chains. When he crawled out, he looked like a water ghost, a terrifying sight, but not exactly something to be impressed by. His appearance was grotesque, almost ugly, but Leonard didn¡¯t care about looks. If given the choice between overwhelming strength and a pretty face, Leonard would always choose strength. But Dybala¡¯s strength had been far from impressive. Anyone who could be bound by chains so easily probably didn¡¯t have much power to boast about. The more Leonard thought about it, the colder his expression became. Dybala¡¯s threat needed to be dealt with decisively next time. He didn¡¯t need proof to act; sometimes suspicion alone was enough. If Dybala gave him trouble before he died, it would ruin Leonard¡¯s quiet life. Leonard decided that a serious conversation with Dybala was in order. He wasn¡¯t interested in the so-called inheritance of Poseidon, after all. Thanks to his studies on wizardry and the memories of his past life, Leonard had lost any fear of gods. To him, gods were simply beings with extraordinary power. If you had enough strength, playing the role of a god wasn¡¯t that difficult. But what truly excited Leonard wasn¡¯t the idea of inheriting a god¡¯s power, it was the chance to catch a few gods. And as for an inheritance that required constant cannibalism to sustain itself? That wasn¡¯t even worth considering. "I¡¯ll deal with this tonight," Leonard muttered to himself. Dybala¡¯s threats didn¡¯t affect Leonard¡¯s pace. With the successful completion of his sleep spell framework, Leonard now had more free time than ever before. He decided to use this extra time to dive into his alchemy books. Meditation had its limits; you couldn¡¯t meditate for too long at once. If the brain were a precision instrument, meditation was like high-performance machinery; it could get damaged with prolonged use. So, Leonard stuck to a strict time limit: 4 to 6 hours of meditation a day was ideal. Back in his room, Leonard picked up the baby gray rabbit that Borg had bought for him at the market. Watching the little creature hop around in its cage, he couldn¡¯t help but smile. Gently pinching the rabbit¡¯s mouth, he poured the flesh-activating potion he had prepared the day before into it. The rabbit drank it all, then shook its head, jumping a couple of times before retreating to the corner, its back turned to Leonard. The potion had two effects: it boosted the rabbit¡¯s physical activity and helped it grow stronger through exercise. But the potion¡¯s other effect was more unpredictable; it could induce random mutations in the body. The younger the subject, the more likely a mutation would occur. For now, Leonard could only wait and see what changes might come. The rabbit wasn¡¯t fully grown yet, and Leonard was using it to test the effects of the potion. The ingredients in the physical activity potion might not be particularly rare, but it was still a wizard¡¯s brew; a magical concoction, in essence! Leonard placed the rabbit in a cage and set it in the Alchemy Lab space. Then, he focused on his meditation and daily tasks. That night, Leonard stood in David¡¯s yard, watching as the dense fog began to rise around him. David had mentioned that the fog had appeared suddenly the night before. It was as thick and unexpected as ever. From the end of the street, Dybala¡¯s towering figure emerged through the mist, just as Leonard had anticipated. Behind him, David glanced at Dybala¡¯s chest in silence. The wound from the previous night had shrunk and healed significantly. It seemed this man had an impressive ability to recover. "Relax, buddy. I¡¯m just here to talk business," Dybala called out, stepping into the yard with a smile. However, his ferocious expression made the smile look more unnerving than friendly. Leonard narrowed his eyes and gestured for David to open the yard gate and let Dybala in. "You don¡¯t look so great yourself. That wound is quite a sight," Leonard remarked, his tone sharp. Dybala touched his sword wound and spoke with a hint of nostalgia. "I was careless. After I killed the liar, I set out to take revenge on his whole family. But there were two unexpected obstacles, a magician using magic and a knight with incredible swordsmanship. The knight¡¯s sword almost cleaved me in two, but I did manage to blind one of his eyes." His tone darkened as he continued, "I just wanted revenge on those liars who deceived me. They promised me that if I accepted the family inheritance, they¡¯d take care of my wife, Maracia, and my son. But they lied. And my lover¡­ she died three years ago because we couldn¡¯t afford her treatment." Leonard¡¯s expression softened. "That¡¯s unfortunate," he said, though his words carried little sympathy. Dybala shrugged. "It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll still have my revenge." Dybala¡¯s gaze flicked to the door. "Aren¡¯t you going to invite me in?" he asked with a sly grin. Leonard nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. Dybala walked in without hesitation, settling into a chair without worry. "My ancestor was once just a sailor. One day, while fishing, he pulled up a statue from the sea. That night, he dreamed of the statue, which gave him power. From that moment, his fame grew, and he became a renowned sailor. Eventually, he formed his own fleet," Dybala recounted. "It sounds like quite a story. But when I first saw you, you were locked in water. Seems like your inheritance comes with a major downside. I¡¯m not interested in becoming a crazed cannibal," Leonard replied coolly. Dybala chuckled darkly. "The inheritance didn¡¯t always have these drawbacks. But over time, as it was passed down, the heirs became more extreme; some even lost their minds and attacked people. Originally, only the wisest of the tribe could inherit it. Now, it¡¯s something that even the lowest of the low can hold onto. But they still want to keep the power in the family." He scoffed, "It¡¯s ridiculous. They¡¯re afraid of it, yet they refuse to give up its power." Leonard drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair, lost in thought. The pursuit of power had always been a part of human nature, after all. "If I¡¯m not mistaken, you¡¯re an apprentice wizard, aren¡¯t you?" Dybala asked suddenly. Leonard¡¯s finger froze on the leather, and for a moment, the air seemed to tense around them. Dybala noticed the shift and quickly added, "It¡¯s not a secret. Many noble families leave behind inheritances. But being a wizard requires talent, and honestly, I envy that. I never had the talent to become an apprentice wizard. If I had, I¡¯d have been taken in years ago, and I wouldn¡¯t have ended up with this cursed inheritance." He paused before adding, "You¡¯re probably preparing to board that ship in five months, right? I wonder which family you¡¯re from¡­ maybe we¡¯re related by blood." His tone was tentative, as if testing the waters. Chapter 40: Eye of Poseidon! Leonard was taken aback, though he didn¡¯t show it. ¡¯Many nobles have wizard heritage?¡¯ He hadn¡¯t known that before. He always assumed that knowledge of wizardry was limited to a select few, but Dybala¡¯s casual mention of his identity as a wizard made it clear that this was far from the case. There were more people aware of wizards and their power than Leonard had imagined. ¡¯Could my teacher, Alfonso, be a noble too?¡¯ Leonard thought, his mind racing. ¡¯He did agree to take me to Bangor Harbor... Could his reasons be tied to the ship in five months?¡¯ Alfonso had disappeared after their arrival, leaving Leonard with an unsettling feeling. ¡¯Is he planning something?¡¯ Dybala, noticing Leonard¡¯s silence, leaned forward slightly, breaking Leonard from his thoughts. "You might not think much of our family¡¯s inheritance, but I know where the real treasure is," Dybala said, his voice low but filled with conviction. "The ancestor didn¡¯t just salvage the statue. He found several other magical items along with it. I had them identified, and they¡¯re all enchanted objects. I know exactly where they¡¯re hidden." Dybala paused, watching Leonard closely, his expression hardening. "The ancestor even left behind the address where he found the statue. He called it the Eye of Poseidon. In his later years, he sailed there alone; vanished without a trace. And every inheritor since has disappeared in their later years. I suspect they all went there too." Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed. "You¡¯ve been tracking these movements?" Dybala nodded. "I destroyed the inheritance statue. If they want to continue the legacy, they¡¯ll have to go back to the Eye of Poseidon. They¡¯ll need a ship for that." His voice dropped lower, "And I won¡¯t take a single penny from them when the time comes. No, this time, I do it on my own terms." Leonard listened carefully, his face neutral. The idea of the Eye of Poseidon intrigued him, but he wasn¡¯t ready to jump into any plans just yet. Dybala leaned closer, as if reading Leonard¡¯s silence as skepticism. "You¡¯re not thinking about how to get rid of me, are you?" His voice held a hint of playful menace. "You wouldn¡¯t be so cruel, would you?" Dybala placed a hand on his chest, pretending to be wounded. "Really? If I don¡¯t come back from this, the whole city will know about it. I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s all over the papers by tomorrow. You don¡¯t want to be on the wrong side of that, do you, my good brother?" Leonard¡¯s eyes remained cold, his expression unreadable. "You don¡¯t think you can control me, do you?" Dybala quickly raised his hands in defense. "No, no, I¡¯m not trying to control you." The playful smile vanished, replaced by something much darker. "I only need your help once, just this once." He leaned in closer, his eyes intense. "Think of it as a father who lost his child, a husband who lost his wife, begging you. Please, Leonard, just this once. After that, I¡¯ll leave you in peace. I¡¯ll never bother you again." Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Let me hear your plan first." Dybala¡¯s eyes gleamed with renewed hope. "They¡¯re preparing a ship to go to the Eye of Poseidon. I¡¯ve read all the family¡¯s books. I know exactly where it is. The Eye of Poseidon is near an island, and we can ambush them there. By the time they catch a lot of fish, we¡¯ll be ready. We just need to board the ship, deal with the extraordinary people on it, and the rest will be easy. Ordinary people can¡¯t resist us. Then, we¡¯ll sail back to Bangor Harbor, and it¡¯ll all be ours." Leonard considered the plan. It sounded simple enough, too simple, in fact. A part of him wanted to test Dybala¡¯s resolve, see if he could be trusted. "That sounds like a good idea," Leonard said with a smile, clapping his hands together. The moment he did, a swirl of dust began to rise from his palms, swirling heavier and heavier until it became a thick smoke. Dybala, mid-sentence, was caught completely off guard. The dust cloud, hiding Leonard¡¯s true intentions, engulfed him before he could react. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "You¡ª" Dybala choked out, disbelief and rage flooding his voice. "You don¡¯t care about your identity being exposed, do you?" Bang! Dybala collapsed onto the sofa, unconscious before he hit the cushions. David stood by the door, a confused look on his face, as if unsure of what had just happened. "Body search," Leonard said without emotion, turning to David. "Why are you standing there?" David snapped out of his daze. "Oh, right!" He hurried over to Dybala¡¯s prone form. Dybala was dressed in a simple brown linen robe with two large, loose pockets. As David rifled through them, he pulled out a half-eaten piece of dried fish from the outer pocket. Then, from the inner lining, a small silver ring was revealed, rusted and unremarkable at first glance. Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed as he took in the ring. It was the standard size for a human finger, but it didn¡¯t fit Dybala¡¯s thick, bony fingers. ¡¯So that¡¯s why he kept it hidden,¡¯ Leonard thought, his mind already turning over the possibilities. Leonard stood over Dybala¡¯s motionless form, his face cold and expressionless. "I just want to carry out my experiments, why do you insist on dragging me into this?" He muttered under his breath. ¡¯Why can¡¯t you just take your revenge quietly, like any normal person?¡¯ His gaze flickered toward the headless body, his thoughts darkening. ¡¯Why involve me in this mess?¡¯ Dybala¡¯s claims about loyal followers seemed laughable. ¡¯How could someone locked away in a water dungeon for who knows how many years possibly have any loyal followers?¡¯ Leonard sneered, his mind turning over the absurdity of it all. The man had barely survived on dried fish; probably stolen and didn¡¯t even have a copper coin to his name. ¡¯If he had any die-hard followers, they would¡¯ve found a way to free him by now.¡¯ As for Dybala¡¯s so-called inheritance of Poseidon or the treasure, Leonard wasn¡¯t interested in the slightest. ¡¯The sea, huh?¡¯ Leonard thought. ¡¯What if something goes wrong, and I can¡¯t escape? Am I supposed to swim my way out?¡¯ He scoffed. The idea of putting himself in a position with no way out was completely unappealing. He wasn¡¯t about to risk it for some mythical treasure. ¡¯Still, it might be interesting to borrow from the Bolt family one day,¡¯ Leonard mused, glancing at Dybala¡¯s headless body. ¡¯As for interest, I suppose I¡¯ll just have to deal with that later.¡¯ He sighed. "Your story is moving, really," Leonard said aloud, his voice flat. "But I have people I need to protect too." With a smooth motion, he drew his staff and began casting a spell. Acid missiles. The spell hit Dybala¡¯s exposed neck, instantly dissolving it. The body twitched as it collapsed to the floor, now just a headless corpse. The surrounding ground bubbled and hissed as the acid ate through it, leaving small, charred holes. Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed as he observed the twitching body. ¡¯I wonder if he¡¯ll survive without a head...¡¯ he thought. ¡¯He¡¯s no ordinary man, after all.¡¯ With a sigh, he decided to be extra cautious. A second acid missile shot out, aimed at Dybala¡¯s heart. The powerful corrosion left a small crater, but Leonard felt a sense of relief. He¡¯d taken the necessary precautions for now. It would be better if I could learn a more precise spell that kills without damaging the body so much, Leonard thought, as he gingerly placed Dybala¡¯s now-mutilated body into the alchemy lab. ¡¯Perhaps that¡¯s something for later.¡¯ Turning to David, Leonard spoke, "Let¡¯s go. See if you can track the way he came here." The mist outside had lifted, the streets now clear under the pale glow of the moon. David nodded, his nose twitching as he picked up Dybala¡¯s lingering scent. They walked for half an hour in silence, the night air thick with the smells of salt and decay, before they reached a dilapidated hut near the old pier. David slowed as they approached, his eyes scanning the ground. "The smell is strongest here," he said, his voice low. Leonard took in his surroundings. The cabin was in bad shape. A hole in the ceiling had been corroded by some unknown substance, and the walls were full of wormholes. The air inside was damp and stank of fish. In the overgrown grass outside, remnants of fish bones and scales were scattered across the ground. It was clear Dybala hadn¡¯t been living well. "Master, look," David called, crouching down next to a pile of debris. His hand reached into a shadowed corner, pulling out a small, weathered glass bottle. The bottle was smooth, rubbed clean of dust, and inside, something moved. Leonard stepped closer as David gently removed the cork, revealing a piece of yellowed paper inside. He pulled the paper out carefully, and Leonard¡¯s sharp eyes noticed the childlike handwriting. "I asked my mother why other children have fathers. My mother said that my father turned into a fish and went into the sea. If I write a letter to my father, will he come back to see me after receiving it?" The drawing on the paper was crude, but Leonard could still make out a small boy holding an adult¡¯s hand in one and a fish in the other. A bloodstained scale, marked by a dark streak of red, was stuck near the fish¡¯s eye. Leonard stared at the drawing, his thoughts racing. The boy¡¯s father, a fish? The fish¡¯s eye, bloodied? It seemed strange, almost eerie, and it gnawed at him. What kind of twisted legacy was this? What kind of family had Dybala come from? "Did he...?" Leonard trailed off, his words hanging in the air as he turned to David. The connection between Dybala¡¯s history and this boy seemed too strange to ignore. David, who had been silently observing, simply shook his head. "I don¡¯t know, Master." Leonard tucked the paper back into the bottle, his mind still swirling with questions. ¡¯What exactly is going on with this family?¡¯ He thought. ¡¯And why does it all feel so¡­ wrong?¡¯ Turning back toward the cabin, Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Let¡¯s head back. We¡¯ve got more to think about." The night was far from over. Chapter 41: Changes! After reading the paper, Leonard felt a slight unease settle in his chest. He stuffed it back into the glass bottle, sealed it, and then walked slowly toward the beach. The cool night air tugged at his cloak as he stood at the water¡¯s edge, staring out at the dark sea. He was silent for a long moment, thinking of everything that had just happened, the mysterious inheritance, Dybala¡¯s cryptic story, and the strange connection to the Eye of Poseidon. With a quiet sigh, Leonard tossed the bottle into the water. The sound of it hitting the waves barely registered in his mind. "Just let it go where it belongs," he muttered under his breath. The bottle drifted away, carried by the tide, as the ocean claimed it with a soft, steady sweep. The waves crashed against the rocks, sending a fine mist into the air. The pier in the distance creaked in the wind, and a lighthouse¡¯s steady beam of light swept across the water. Leonard stood there, lost in thought, as the cold wind whipped around him. His thoughts seemed far away, unraveling into the vastness of the sea. Beside him, David stood without a word. His face was dim in the moonlight, but his eyes were far away, lost in memories. David missed his wife terribly. It had been so long since he¡¯d seen her, and every passing day filled him with more dread. What if something had happened to her? What if she was waiting for him in vain? The fear gnawed at his insides. He¡¯d left her behind so many years ago, driven by his own need to escape. He used to be a humble baker, nothing more than a hardworking man trying to make a life. But his wife? She had never had an easy life. They had to leave their home, their past, and everything familiar just to survive. He remembered how terrified she was of the dark. What if, in the cold nights without him by her side, she had thought of him, even once? What if she was still afraid, all alone? David shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts away, but the worry still gnawed at him. He felt as though he was failing her. Leonard sensed the shift in the air beside him and turned toward David. Without a word, he placed a hand on his shoulder in a rare moment of understanding, but then, just as quietly, he pulled away. They both had their burdens to carry. The silence stretched on until Leonard spoke again, breaking the moment. "Let¡¯s go back. There¡¯s nothing more to do here." --- Back in the alchemy lab, Leonard set to work. His eyes flicked toward the small gray rabbit still huddled in its cage. The rabbit lay motionless in the corner, its small body heaving slightly with each breath. Leonard observed it for a moment, then turned away, preparing for his meditation. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he closed his eyes and sank into the familiar rhythm of his thoughts, clearing his mind. Meditation was always a welcome escape, but also a challenge. As time passed, he could feel the energy slowly building, his mind attempting to gather the elusive threads needed to form something new; another earth ring. But despite his efforts, the moment passed, and no new ring was formed. "Well," Leonard muttered to himself as he opened his eyes, "maybe tomorrow." He stood up and stretched, feeling the familiar weight of the day¡¯s fatigue settling in. "It¡¯s not a failure, just... a delay." He walked over to his desk, grabbed a dusty alchemy book from the shelf, and flipped it open. Alchemy was always on his mind, even if he wasn¡¯t actively practicing. His studies had grown deeper, and now that he had more free time, he devoured whatever he could. The old text was filled with esoteric wisdom and strange theories, but it was enough to spark his curiosity. The more he read, the clearer the picture became. Alchemy was about transformation. The essence of it all was changing the very nature of matter itself. Creating stronger substances, combining elements in ways no one had ever imagined; alchemy was the backbone of many wizarding disciplines, the foundation upon which power was built. Leonard chuckled as he turned the page. The arrogance of the alchemists was evident in the writing, and it struck him as somewhat amusing. The author, apparently a passionate alchemist, had no qualms about voicing disdain for other magical fields. ¡¯"There are always some idiots who think that alchemy is just about making puppets!"¡¯ Leonard read aloud, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ¡¯"Really? This nonsense has lasted for centuries? Alchemy wizards are not just puppet-makers; without us, wizards would still be stuck in the primordial forests!"¡¯ The book continued with a mixture of boastfulness and warnings to young wizards. ¡¯"Don¡¯t follow those blood-wizard freaks who tinker with corpses and blood. Who knows when you¡¯ll end up with a dozen hands or a hundred eyes. No one wants to marry someone like that!"¡¯ Leonard laughed despite himself. "Seems like the author has some personal grudges against bloodline magic." He couldn¡¯t help but compare the rants in the book to the scientific discussions he¡¯d read back in his own world. Alchemy and materials science were eerily similar, but with one key difference; alchemy transcended physical boundaries, while materials science dealt solely with tangible substances. With a sigh, Leonard placed the book down. ¡¯Well, at least the reading was insightful.¡¯ He turned his attention to the small gray rabbit again, and that¡¯s when he noticed something strange. His eyes narrowed in confusion. From the corner of his eye, he saw the cage; its contents looked... wrong. It seemed as if the cage had suddenly become full of something, or rather, ¡¯someone¡¯. A thick, matted mass filled the small space, and what had once been a tiny rabbit now seemed to be... growing. Leonard moved closer, his expression unreadable. He peered inside the cage and found what he feared. The rabbit had not only survived the potion, it had ¡¯changed¡¯. It was no longer the small, weak creature it had been. The fur was matted, and the shape of the body seemed oddly distorted. The transformation had begun. "Well," Leonard murmured under his breath. "This is... unexpected." He reached for his staff, his mind already racing through the possible outcomes. Leonard approached the cage slowly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the strange sight before him. He reached in and gently grabbed a handful of what appeared to be fur, only to have it come away in his hand, thick and unnaturally dense. "Is this... rabbit fur?" he muttered under his breath, his mind already racing with questions. The fur wasn¡¯t like anything he had seen before. It felt different; almost too soft and plush, like something had caused it to grow beyond its natural capacity. As he opened the cage, the fur began to shift, undulating in a way that suggested movement beneath it. Leonard¡¯s finger hovered above the mass of hair, and he carefully poked at it. To his surprise, his finger didn¡¯t sink in. The fur was so thick and densely packed that it felt like an impenetrable wall. "Huh..." Leonard mused, his brow furrowing. "This isn¡¯t normal." He poked again, this time harder, and the rabbit¡¯s tiny body jerked violently beneath the fur, startling itself. It hopped around in a frantic circle, searching for an escape from the strange new environment Leonard had created. It dashed toward the edge of the table, trying to find a hidden corner to hide in. "Is this... hirsutism?" Leonard wondered aloud, unsure of the exact term, but the change in the rabbit was undeniable. It was covered in thick, dense fur, far more than any normal rabbit could possibly have. "It¡¯s definitely some kind of mutation. But what¡¯s the point of this kind of genetic change?" Leonard paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ¡¯Mutant genes that cause rapid hair growth¡­¡¯ He couldn¡¯t help but think of the potential applications. ¡¯Hair growth agents, perhaps?¡¯ The market for such a product could be huge, there were plenty of middle-aged men out there struggling with thinning hair. The potential for profit was undeniable. However, the thought was interrupted by the practical realization that extracting these kinds of mutated genes was no simple task. The conditions of his current laboratory were not equipped for such advanced research. Even if he wanted to extract and replicate this trait, he¡¯d need more than just a few books on alchemy and some rudimentary tools. A proper research facility would be required. Leonard chuckled quietly to himself, finding a bit of amusement in the whole situation. "Well, at least my experiment worked. The reagent¡¯s effect is definitely noticeable." He watched the rabbit scamper around, its wild fur bouncing as it hopped, and for the first time in a while, Leonard felt a rare sense of satisfaction. The little creature had served its purpose; now, if only he could figure out how to handle the side effects of such a dramatic mutation. --- Meanwhile, at the Borrent family estate, the mood was far more somber. Demps lay in bed, his eye bandaged and his face pale from the effort it had taken to fight off the monster that had attacked them. The doctor removed the old, blood-soaked bandages, replacing them with fresh ones. "The recovery situation isn¡¯t looking too optimistic," he said gravely. "The damage to the eyeball is severe. All we can do now is focus on reducing the inflammation and preventing infection." Antina, a young woman with bright blonde hair, stood by the window, staring out at the rain as though searching for something, her brow furrowed with worry. "Uncle Demps¡­" she murmured, her voice filled with concern. Demps smiled weakly, though his one remaining eye seemed sharper than ever. "Don¡¯t worry about me, Miss Antina. As a knight, I was always prepared for the worst. Losing one eye isn¡¯t so bad. At least I still have one good one to keep watch." Despite his words, Antina¡¯s heart ached. She had seen too many good men sacrifice everything for her family. She didn¡¯t like the pressure of expectations. Ever since she was five years old, when the family¡¯s magical crystal ball had detected her wizarding potential, her life had been defined by others¡¯ hopes for her. Her father had always doted on her, seeing her as the family¡¯s future, and as her abilities developed, so did the expectations placed on her. Her brothers were kind men, but their status in the family could never match hers. And now, even here in Bangor Harbor, she could feel those expectations weighing on her. The local viscount had thrown a lavish banquet in her honor, inviting the town¡¯s senior officials, as was custom when an heir to such power arrived. But as the night wore on, everything had turned to chaos. A thick fog had descended on the manor, and a strange, powerful creature had crashed through the windows, killing the viscount before Antina¡¯s eyes. In the panic that followed, Demps had protected her, but in the process, he had lost his eye to the creature¡¯s claws. The Borrent family had been generous with their compensation, but Antina had no interest in their money. ¡¯What¡¯s the use of gold if I can¡¯t protect the people who¡¯ve been loyal to me?¡¯ She thought bitterly. As Antina¡¯s thoughts drifted, Dolores, her ever-faithful maid, entered the room. "Miss Antina, the people from the Borrent family have come again," she said, her tone more tired than anything else. "They¡¯ve invited us to fish for the treasure of their ancestors." Antina¡¯s response was immediate and firm. "No. I¡¯m not interested in their treasure." She turned away from the window, her face hardening with determination. Dolores, though, couldn¡¯t hide her agreement. Even she had grown suspicious of the Borrent family¡¯s motives. It was clear they were using Antina and her family as little more than muscle, intending to keep them close for protection. She glanced at Antina with concern. "Miss, there are too many people at the manor now. Our lavender farm can¡¯t support this many employees, and the housekeeper is complaining that many of the refugees we took in are taking up space but aren¡¯t helping." S~ea??h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Antina sighed, exasperated. "Then don¡¯t recruit any more refugees, for now. We can deal with that later." She then turned her gaze back to Demps, who lay on the bed, still awake despite the pain. "Uncle Demps, tomorrow, let¡¯s visit the lavender farm in the suburbs. It¡¯ll be a good chance for you to relax, and I could use the time away from all this madness." Demps gave a small nod, the warmth in his smile making his injury seem less severe. "That sounds like a good idea, Miss Antina. A bit of fresh air will do us both some good." For a moment, Antina allowed herself to breathe. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was a break from the weight of responsibility. She hoped tomorrow would bring some peace; if only for a day. Chapter 42: Address in the Book! The lavender farm just outside Bangor Harbor was a sight to behold, endless rows of vibrant purple flowers stretched across the land, swaying gently in the breeze. Nestled amidst the flowers stood charming red windmill cottages, adding to the serene beauty of the scene. It was a peaceful haven by the harbor, a place where visitors could forget their worries and lose themselves in the colors and scents. Beauvoir followed the other workers quietly, her curiosity piqued by the talk of the day; the eldest lady of the manor was arriving. The whole house seemed to be in a flurry of activity, with the butler himself greeting her at the gates. He was even sternly warning everyone to keep their distance and not cause any trouble. Beauvoir had never seen someone of such importance up close, and her interest stirred. But she was a laundry maid, and her responsibilities were clear. She had a mountain of clothes waiting to be washed, and if she didn¡¯t finish them in time, the supervisor wouldn¡¯t hesitate to punish her. The work was tough, but it came with decent pay, food, and shelter. She couldn¡¯t afford to lose her job. The memory of the woman who had been kicked out for ruining two pieces of clothing lingered in Beauvoir¡¯s mind as a grim reminder. She focused on her task, scrubbing the laundry with diligence, trying to ignore the growing buzz of excitement around her. Outside, she could hear the servants chatting, their voices full of admiration for the lady¡¯s beauty. "Miss, you¡¯re so beautiful! With your long golden hair, you look just like a princess from a fairytale." "She was so kind, she even gave Tom a gold coin as a reward!" Beauvoir felt a twinge of envy, but not jealousy. She knew better than to get too close to people like her. With her clumsy nature, any attempt to get noticed could easily lead to trouble. She focused on the task at hand, hanging the freshly washed clothes on the line. Just then, the supervisor entered the courtyard with a dark expression, flanked by several other servants. Beauvoir immediately wiped her hands on her apron and forced a nervous smile. "Supervisor," she greeted, her heart sinking. "Someone says they saw you stealing," the supervisor said, his tone cold and accusing. Beauvoir¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "No, I didn¡¯t steal anything," she quickly protested, her voice shaking. But before she could say more, another servant hurried in, holding a small gold ring. "We found this in her bag," they said, their voice stern and accusing. Beauvoir¡¯s stomach turned as she looked at the ring. She knew she hadn¡¯t taken it, but how could she prove it? The other servants, some who had worked here for years, nodded in agreement. "Yes, we saw it," one of them said. "We watched her take it from the shelf and hide it in her bag." "No, it¡¯s not like that!" Beauvoir pleaded, her voice breaking. The accusations continued to mount, each servant adding their own statement, and Beauvoir¡¯s world seemed to collapse around her. The supervisor¡¯s expression remained blank, unreadable. He had fired someone for theft not long ago, and Beauvoir couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was about to be next. With a wave of his hand, the supervisor gestured for her to come forward. "Come here," he said, his voice flat. Beauvoir¡¯s legs felt weak as she stepped toward him, her heart racing. She had always worked hard, doing her best to avoid trouble, but now it seemed her efforts had been in vain. "I¡¯ve been watching you," the supervisor said, his gaze piercing. "You¡¯ve been diligent, but something¡¯s off here. I¡¯m afraid I have no choice." Beauvoir swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "I didn¡¯t steal it, please believe me." The supervisor¡¯s face remained impassive as he spoke. "I don¡¯t care whether you took it or not. There are too many people here, and the big shots upstairs are already unhappy. It¡¯s your behavior that¡¯s the problem, not the theft. You¡¯ve offended people with your manners." Beauvoir felt a cold wave of despair wash over her. She had no idea what she had done wrong, but she knew it didn¡¯t matter. The supervisor had already made up his mind. Without another word, he handed her her wages for the month, early. "Go find another job," he said, his tone dismissive. As she stood there, stunned, the words echoed in her mind. *Find another job*. It was the end of her time here, and the future seemed uncertain. ---- Leonard looked up from the book he had been reading, his thoughts interrupted by a soft knock on the wooden door of his balcony. "Come in." David entered, his expression a mixture of excitement and nervousness. His hands fidgeted, as if he didn¡¯t know whether to shake Leonard¡¯s hand or just wring them in agitation. There was a fire in his eyes, a rare sight that Leonard had never seen before. His tail even twitched slightly, betraying his nerves. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Master, can you help me with something?" David¡¯s voice trembled, and Leonard couldn¡¯t help but raise an eyebrow. It was clear that whatever this was, it meant a lot to him. "Have you found your wife?" Leonard guessed, his voice calm but his heart sensing the significance of the moment. David¡¯s face lit up, the excitement in his eyes unmistakable. "I found her," he replied, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I asked around and followed a lead. Today, they told me they had a clue, and... I found her. It¡¯s really her, my wife and my child. But, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to see her yet." David¡¯s voice faltered as he spoke. Leonard could feel the weight of his words, the love, the fear, and the longing. "I¡¯m terrified that my appearance will scare her away," David admitted softly, his head hanging low. "The more you care about someone, the harder it is to face them when you fear they might not recognize you anymore. My face, my form... they¡¯re so different now." Leonard nodded quietly, understanding the inner turmoil that came with the battle between love and fear. After a long pause, David spoke again, his voice slightly more hopeful. "Master, can you help me? Just¡­ go see her tomorrow. You can pretend to be a friend. Here¡¯s the money I saved up." David fumbled around in his pocket, pulling out a small purse and handing it to Leonard, his hands trembling. The offer was genuine, but it was clear that it wasn¡¯t just about the money. It was about taking the first step, with Leonard¡¯s help. Leonard paused for a moment, weighing the situation in his mind. He had promised to help David, and this seemed like an important moment for him. "Give me the address, and I¡¯ll go check it out tomorrow." David¡¯s face brightened with relief. "Thank you, Master. I¡­ I can¡¯t thank you enough." After exchanging the address, David quickly left through the window, his excitement carrying him away before he could remember to close the balcony door behind him. Leonard smiled to himself, feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a while. He was glad to see David so animated, a stark contrast to the solemn figure he had been when they first met. Leonard put the book he had been reading aside and stood up, walking over to the balcony. The cool night air blew in, making the curtains flutter slightly. He pulled the curtains closed, sealing out the cold, and went back to his desk. But as he sat down, he froze. Something was off. There, on top of the alchemy book he had left open, was a new book. It was bound in brown cowhide, its pages thick with age. Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed. He was sure that book hadn¡¯t been there just a moment ago. He scanned the room carefully. The room was quiet, empty, just as it had been when he last looked. But the book; he couldn¡¯t deny that it was real. "Selena?" Leonard called out quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. But there was no response, not even a whisper. A strange chill ran down his spine as he picked up the mysterious book. The title on the cover read "Introduction and Foundations of Mutation Studies." Leonard¡¯s breath caught in his throat. "Teacher, is that you?" he whispered under his breath. But there was no answer, only the heavy silence of the room. His fingers turned the pages cautiously, the scent of old paper filling the air. As he reached the middle of the book, a piece of white paper fell out from between the pages. Leonard¡¯s heart skipped a beat. He picked it up carefully, unfolding it to reveal only one thing: an address. 13 Falk Street. Leonard stared at the address, his mind racing. What was the meaning of this? Why now? And why in a book that hadn¡¯t been there moments before? Chapter 43: Equal Exchange! The next day, Leonard followed the address David had given her and found Beauvoir¡¯s house. Beauvoir eyed the young man warily as he approached. "Who are you looking for? My husband¡¯s out. If it¡¯s important, you can talk to him when he gets back." Leonard smiled gently. "You must be Beauvoir," he said. Beauvoir stiffened, eyeing him suspiciously. She never told anyone her real name. "I¡¯m a friend of your husband," Leonard added. Beauvoir didn¡¯t respond, only lowering her head to continue washing vegetables, lips pressed tight. She wasn¡¯t buying it. "He just went out," she muttered. "He¡¯ll be back soon." Leonard, undeterred, reached into his coat and pulled out a pocket watch. Beauvoir¡¯s eyes snapped to it. Her heart skipped a beat. She recognized that watch instantly. It was the one she¡¯d bought for David on his birthday. He loved it so much that he rarely wore it, always keeping it close, showing it off to friends. "Can I see it?" Beauvoir asked, her voice quieter now, a mix of curiosity and disbelief. Leonard handed it over, and she took the watch, her fingers trembling slightly. She inspected it carefully. The small dent in the corner of the dial, just as she remembered. "It¡¯s his watch..." she whispered, still processing the sight. "Are you really David¡¯s friend?" she asked, her voice a little softer now. "Yes," Leonard replied, meeting her gaze steadily. Beauvoir¡¯s face twisted in uncertainty. "Is he... is he still alive?" Leonard paused, weighing his words. Saying David was dead would be cruel, so he nodded. "He¡¯s alive." Beauvoir¡¯s expression hardened, but her voice trembled. "Then why hasn¡¯t he come to see me? Why hasn¡¯t he come back?" Her eyes were full of worry, her hands still gripping the pocket watch. Leonard sighed. "It¡¯s... complicated. He¡¯s not in a position to come right now." "Not in a position?" Beauvoir¡¯s voice rose. "Has he found someone else? Does he not want me anymore? If that¡¯s it, tell me, and I¡¯ll make it right!" She finished washing the vegetables, her shoulders stiff, avoiding his gaze. Leonard couldn¡¯t help but chuckle, though it was soft. It was clear she knew her husband well enough to guess what might be happening, even before he¡¯d said anything. Beauvoir¡¯s voice softened again. "Maybe I¡¯ll just treat him as gone. I can live without him." Leonard was taken aback by the sudden bitterness in her tone. There was an undeniable stubbornness about her, one he hadn¡¯t expected. But he knew she deserved to know the truth. Misunderstandings like this could tear people apart, and Leonard wasn¡¯t about to let that happen. He looked her in the eyes. "There¡¯s been an accident," he said quietly. Beauvoir froze, her hands stilling in the water. "What kind of accident?" Her voice was shaky, her eyes wide with fear. In a moment of panic, she twisted the vegetables in her hands too hard, breaking them. Leonard took a deep breath, carefully choosing his next words. "What if he comes back... changed? What if he seems a little strange, maybe even scares you at first? Would you still want to see him?" Beauvoir blinked, her expression flickering between confusion and determination. "I¡¯d still want to meet him. Maybe I¡¯d be scared at first, but... I could handle it. After all, his snoring used to keep me up, but I got used to it." She smiled faintly, the tension easing from her shoulders. Leonard smiled back, relieved. "I think it¡¯s best if he tells you himself, when he¡¯s ready." Beauvoir nodded slowly, her hands trembling as she held the pocket watch to her chest. "He¡¯ll come back, right?" she asked softly. "Yes," Leonard assured her. "He will." After leaving Beauvoir¡¯s house, Leonard asked a few passersby for directions and soon found Falk Street. It was one of the oldest streets in Bangor Harbor, and in a rapidly developing city, "old" often meant dilapidated. But Falk Street was different, surprisingly neat and well-kept. Tall sycamore trees lined both sides of the broad road, casting cool shade over the cobblestones. Small three-story houses with independent courtyards, each separated by low stone fences, stood proudly along the street. Each gate had a small stone pillar with the house number engraved on it. Leonard walked to the end of the street. The main gate was closed, but the small door to the side was unlocked. He stepped through, feeling the weight of the moment ahead. The small door creaked open, as though beckoning him inside. Leonard pushed it further and stepped into the yard, where a thick carpet of fallen leaves covered the ground. They hadn¡¯t been swept in quite some time, leaving the yard feeling abandoned and forgotten. The main door to the house was also ajar. Leonard entered, feeling the weight of the silence around him. In the living room, a familiar figure stood with his back turned, cloaked in shadow. "Teacher," Leonard greeted softly. Alfonso turned slightly, his voice cool. "It seems you¡¯re content with your life now." Leonard smiled, a touch of irony in his tone. "I have always wanted to find teacher... but i just never knew how." Alfonso didn¡¯t respond to the remark. Instead, he reached into his cloak and pulled out an antique brass ring, placing it carefully on the table before Leonard. "Teacher, what is this?" Leonard asked, curiosity piqued. "You¡¯ll understand once you take a look," Alfonso replied, his tone nonchalant. Leonard picked up the ring and, following Alfonso¡¯s instructions, poured his mental energy into it. As soon as he did, he felt a shift; a vast emptiness opened up before him. The space was small, no larger than a classroom, but it was enough. This space, unlike the alchemy lab, was far more convenient for storing personal belongings. Within this strange void, Leonard saw a bookshelf lined with books; fourteen in total. Titles like *Illustrated Book of Lower Undead Creatures*, *Illustrated Book of Lower Natural Creatures*, and *Introduction to the Study of Mutation in the Necromancer Department* filled the shelves. Most were filled with illustrations or theoretical knowledge about mutation studies, but it was a different set of books that caught Leonard¡¯s attention. Four books with black covers and white text. The titles, though written in a language Leonard didn¡¯t understand, immediately felt familiar. *Lesser Fireball* *Mage¡¯s Hand* *Whip of Thorns* *Lesser Illusion* Four spells, each more enticing than the last. He couldn¡¯t quite grasp how he understood their meaning, but the moment his eyes scanned them, he knew. Next, he noticed a gray wizard¡¯s robe and a collection of ten dark blue stones; each the size of an eggn glowing faintly with a crystal-like sheen. And beside them, a crystal vial containing a violently boiling red liquid, bubbling as if it were alive. Leonard¡¯s heart raced. He didn¡¯t know exactly what this liquid was, but his limited understanding of mutation suggested it was the blood essence of some magical creature; a rare and dangerous gift. Everything in this small, hidden space was a treasure, something of immeasurable value to Leonard. Yet, despite the excitement, he felt a knot of unease tighten in his stomach. Such gifts, without explanation, often had a hidden price. "Teacher," he said hesitantly, his voice tinged with discomfort, "this gift is too much. I can¡¯t accept it." Alfonso¡¯s voice was calm, his words carrying the weight of something deeper. "Do you remember what I told you?" he asked, his gaze steady. S§×arch* The ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard straightened, his demeanor shifting. "Wizards believe in equal exchange." Alfonso smiled, the thin lines of his face softening. "Exactly. And there¡¯s something I need from you in return." Leonard¡¯s unease grew. "What is it, Teacher?" Alfonso¡¯s smile widened. "It¡¯s simple. In five months, you¡¯ll board a ship at the port. It will take you to an island, where there will be a selection process. This will determine which academy the wizard apprentices will enter." Leonard remained silent, sensing there was more to the story. Alfonso¡¯s smile turned cold. "And your task? To kill every noble wizard apprentice who boards that ship at Bangor Harbor. All of them, during the selection." A chill ran down Leonard¡¯s spine. The words hit harder than he expected, but as he recalled what Alfonso had said before; the cryptic warning about fate placing a price on all gifts, he understood. The price of this gift had just become clear. Chapter 44: The Spells! Leonard listened to Alfonso¡¯s words without flinching. The mention of killing didn¡¯t stir even the slightest reaction in his dark eyes. He had already prepared himself mentally for such a demand. "Is this the price I must pay, Teacher?" Leonard finally asked, the word ¡¯teacher¡¯ leaving his lips with quiet resolve. Alfonso nodded. "Yes. Guiding you onto the path of a wizard, granting you knowledge and magic, these are the gifts I¡¯ve given you. But every gift comes with a price." Leonard tilted his head slightly. "Is it common for contestants to kill each other during the trials?" he asked. If he was going to navigate this ordeal, he needed all the details. "Of course," Alfonso replied, then added, "But¡ª" Leonard focused. He knew Alfonso¡¯s next words would be the crux of the matter. "But those noble wizard apprentices from the Kingdom of Erdoru will undoubtedly see you as their enemy," Alfonso explained, his tone sharp and deliberate. Leonard wasn¡¯t surprised. He had already anticipated this when Alfonso mentioned the cost. Based on what he had gleaned from Dybala, the nobles of Erdoru had long-established methods to ensure their descendants with wizarding talent reached the trials. These descendants, attending the academy generation after generation, would naturally form their own faction. And so, Leonard wondered silently: ¡¯Which faction does my teacher belong to? Or is this purely his personal vendetta?¡¯ "You¡¯ve caused too many deaths already," Alfonso continued. "This will likely limit your options. You¡¯ll only be able to join the Black Wizarding Academy. Unless, of course, you have connections in the White Wizarding Academy, but don¡¯t count on that. They will most likely reject you outright." Leonard remained silent, absorbing every word. He was already bracing himself for the path ahead. "Is there anything else you wish to tell me, Teacher?" he finally asked. "If you have questions, you know where to find me," Alfonso replied, his tone signaling the end of their conversation. Leonard nodded. Alfonso¡¯s words implied he didn¡¯t need to stay here anymore, which meant he still had five months left to spend with his family. The thought filled him with an unexpected heaviness, an emptiness he couldn¡¯t shake. By the time Leonard returned home, the afternoon sun was dipping low on the horizon. The house was quiet; Hamilton and the others had yet to come back. Leonard sat alone, absentmindedly fiddling with the brass ring now snug on his left index finger. Curiosity soon got the better of him. He stepped into his alchemy laboratory and picked up a random book. With a slight focus of his mental energy, the book vanished from his hand. Moments later, he felt it reappear inside the ring¡¯s space. Leonard spent the next hour experimenting with the ring, gradually piecing together its capabilities and limits. First, he discovered that the ring could not store living beings, unlike his alchemy laboratory. Second, each use; whether placing an item inside or retrieving it, consumed a small amount of mental energy. This was similar to the laboratory, though the ring¡¯s ease of use made it far more convenient for everyday tasks. Third, the space inside the ring was gravity-free. Every item floated in place, suspended as though frozen in time. With minimal effort, Leonard could use his mental energy to reposition objects inside the space, which required only a negligible amount of energy. The ring even had a self-organizing feature: items placed inside were automatically stored in separate slots, preventing them from colliding or overlapping. Once Leonard had figured out these rules, he moved all the books from his alchemy laboratory¡¯s bookshelf into the ring. The ring, being smaller and easier to keep on his person, offered more privacy than the bulky metal cube he¡¯d been using. Satisfied with his newfound tool, Leonard returned to the lab. From the ring, he withdrew four specific books, the ones containing spells. ¡¯Lesser Fireball, Mage¡¯s Hand, Whip of Thorns, Lesser Illusion.¡¯ Leonard¡¯s fingers brushed over their covers. These were more than just spells; they were the foundation of his journey as a wizard. The weight of the responsibility ahead settled heavily on his shoulders, but he couldn¡¯t afford to falter. Leonard quickly skimmed through the contents of the spellbooks, gaining a general understanding of the four spells they contained. All of them were classified as zero-level spells, meant for beginner wizards, but each had its unique charm. The most lethal among the four was ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯, a simplified version of the classic ¡¯Fireball¡¯ spell found in countless magical tales. Even with the word "lesser" tacked on, its appeal was undeniable. The first page of the book referenced its more powerful counterpart, the first-level ¡¯Fireball¡¯. While the text didn¡¯t specify its destructive force, it focused on teaching the basic principles of fire element manipulation. As one of the easiest first-level spells to learn, ¡¯Fireball¡¯ had been simplified into ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯ for zero-level wizards, reducing the spell to just 27 magical nodes. When Leonard saw this, he almost wept with relief. He thought back to the grueling process of mastering the ¡¯Sleeping Spell¡¯, which had a staggering 47 nodes. Compared to that nightmare, ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯ felt like a blessing. ¡¯"Twenty-seven nodes? This time, I¡¯ll definitely nail it! After all, I¡¯ve been through worse,"¡¯ Leonard thought to himself, grinning as he imagined the destructive power the spell could unleash. Not to mention, it was high time he added some flashy elemental magic to his repertoire. A wizard who only relied on spitting acid missiles was hardly impressive. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Next came ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand¡¯, a practical and versatile spell. This continuous-use spell conjured an ethereal, ghostly hand made of pure energy that could remotely interact with and manipulate objects. The book emphasized its utility, noting that nearly every wizard learned ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand¡¯ at some point due to its convenience. However, there was a drawback; it required a constant supply of magic to maintain. Despite the effort involved, Leonard could already see countless uses for this spell. It wasn¡¯t flashy, but it was undeniably useful. The third spell, ¡¯Whip of Thorns¡¯, was a bit more unconventional. It required a seed as a medium, and the spell¡¯s power was directly tied to the type of seed used. Once cast, the seed sprouted into a long, thorny vine that the wizard could manipulate to whip, bind, or restrain targets. Leonard couldn¡¯t help but feel that this spell leaned more toward niche utility than mainstream appeal. He didn¡¯t even have any seeds on hand, though the book did include detailed instructions on how to cultivate and select the right ones. Interestingly, the cultivation process relied on mutation science, a subject Leonard was already familiar with. This meant he wouldn¡¯t struggle too much with preparing the seeds if he ever decided to use this spell. The final spell was ¡¯Lesser Illusion¡¯, a spell designed to create illusionary images. These illusions could be made to resemble anything; a person, an animal, or even an object. However, the book warned of the high level of skill required to cast it convincingly. Without enough proficiency, the illusion would be riddled with flaws and easily seen through. Moreover, the illusions were purely visual; they couldn¡¯t interact with the physical world or even lift a feather. Against wizards with strong mental power, the illusions would appear crude and unimpressive. Despite its limitations, Leonard saw potential in this spell for misdirection and tactical maneuvers, though mastering it would take time. As Leonard reviewed the spells, he noted the number of magical nodes required to construct each one: - ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯: 27 nodes (blessedly simple in comparison) - ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand¡¯: 40 nodes - ¡¯Whip of Thorns¡¯: 36 nodes - ¡¯Lesser Illusion¡¯: 50 nodes (the most complex of the four) Leonard couldn¡¯t help but compare them to the ¡¯Sleeping Spell¡¯ he¡¯d already learned, which had an astonishing 47 nodes; an unusually high count for a zero-level spell. Compared to that ordeal, these new spells felt manageable, even exciting. With these spells in hand, Leonard felt more prepared than ever to embrace the challenges ahead. Each spell brought something unique to his arsenal, and he was eager to begin mastering them. Chapter 45: Bloody Sight! The ¡¯Sleeping Spell¡¯ required 47 nodes to master, an unusually high number for a zero-level spell. Its complexity hinted at its potency. This realization didn¡¯t discourage Leonard. Instead, it motivated him as he pulled out the ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯ spellbook and memorized all 27 nodes; a far simpler framework in comparison. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he began meditating, constructing the nodes in his mind. This time, the process felt smoother, faster, thanks to his prior experience. As Leonard worked, he noticed something intriguing: the speed at which nodes were constructed seemed directly tied to his mental power. The stronger his focus and will, the quicker the process unfolded. By the time evening rolled around, Leonard had completed four nodes, a marked improvement from his earlier struggles. ¡¯At this rate, if I push myself a little at night, I could finish constructing the entire spell framework in three or four days,¡¯ he thought with satisfaction. When he heard voices from downstairs, Leonard paused his meditation and joined his family for dinner. The table was filled with laughter and lively conversation. His parents, buzzing with excitement, shared their plans for a new venture; a low-cost tailor shop aimed at serving the common folk of Bangor Port. "We¡¯ve been looking into the market," his mother said. "Most tailor shops here cater to the wealthy, leaving regular folks without affordable options." His father nodded. "We¡¯ll offer good clothes at low prices. People need practical, affordable options, especially in a city like this." Leonard found their idea refreshingly forward-thinking. Bangor Port wasn¡¯t like other places in the Kingdom. Even the poor here had better incomes compared to inland towns, though the high cost of living often left them struggling. A reasonably priced tailor shop could meet their needs and thrive on repeat customers. His parents¡¯ optimism was contagious, and Leonard couldn¡¯t help but feel hopeful for their future. After dinner, Leonard excused himself, saying he was going for a walk, and made his way next door to David¡¯s house. Once inside, he recounted the events of the day, including his meeting with Beauvoir. David listened in silence, his expression a mix of worry and hesitation. "She said she doesn¡¯t care about your current appearance," Leonard pressed. "A relationship needs closure, David. Are you ready to give her that?" David hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. He clenched his fists, his uncertainty plain. "Don¡¯t let this end in regret," Leonard urged. "You¡¯ll live far longer than most. Do you really want to carry this decision on your conscience for the rest of your life?" David¡¯s jaw tightened. After a moment of silence, he nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. Leonard didn¡¯t need to know how David planned to approach Beauvoir or what he would say. He trusted David to handle it in his own way. Returning to his room, Leonard resumed his meditation. When his mental energy was exhausted from node construction, he turned to his books for a brief reprieve before diving back into his practice. This rhythm of study, growth, and progress filled him with a deep sense of purpose. The winter in Bangor Port was nearing its end when shocking news swept through the city. The influential Borrent family, who had recently requisitioned a fleet of ships for a grand venture, had suffered a catastrophic loss. A violent, unprecedented storm had struck at sea, sinking nearly every ship in their fleet. Only a handful of sailors, clinging to small boats and aided by sheer luck, managed to survive. For a time, grief hung heavily over Bangor Port. The city, reliant on its thriving fishing industry, was shaken to its core. Many families had lost their breadwinners, sailors who had perished when the storm claimed the fleet. For these families, the sky itself seemed to have collapsed. The tragedy didn¡¯t stop there. Whispers circulated that Viscount Bolt, the head of one of Bangor¡¯s most influential families, had also died in a recent accident. With the younger head gone, the aging patriarch, long retired; had resumed leadership. He had personally led the ill-fated voyage, taking with him many strong, capable men from the Bolt family. None returned. The Bolt family, once a cornerstone of Bangor Port¡¯s stability, was now in disarray. As the remaining family members vied for the title of Viscount, infighting erupted. Their turmoil spilled into the city, throwing public security into chaos. Prices for essential goods, such as linen, wool, and leather, began to rise, impacting even those on the fringes of the crisis. At Leonard¡¯s home, the chaos felt distant, though occasional mentions from Anika at the dinner table reminded him of its ripple effects. Fortunately, as the Bolt family settled on a new patriarch, order returned to the port. Prices stabilized, and Bangor once again became the steady hub of trade that the kingdom¡¯s nobles relied on for wealth. --- Down by the harbor, life for the city¡¯s fishermen remained largely unchanged. While Bangor¡¯s development had brought riches to some, the grassroots fishers still toiled day after day, hauling in their catch to sell at market. Among them was Bayer, a reclusive old bachelor known for his love of drink and his surly demeanor. To his neighbors, Bayer was a familiar sight: a lonely man with little ambition, more likely to be seen nursing a bottle than doing anything productive. On this particular day, Bayer, bundled in his felt hat and ear flaps, struggled with his fishing net. Something heavy weighed it down, and whatever it was, it didn¡¯t move. "Damn it, did I catch a dead body?" Bayer muttered, heaving the net onto the boat. What he found wasn¡¯t a body but a bronze statue, half as tall as a man, tangled in the net. Its intricate design caught the light, gleaming with an otherworldly allure. Bayer¡¯s irritation faded into awe. He untangled the statue with trembling hands, holding it close as if it were the greatest treasure he¡¯d ever seen. "This is it," he whispered to himself. "A real treasure. I need to hide it before anyone else sees it." Abandoning his fishing, Bayer steered the boat back to shore. For the next few days, he disappeared from sight. The man who couldn¡¯t go two days without buying alcohol suddenly stopped leaving his house. His absence didn¡¯t go unnoticed. Concerned, his neighbors knocked on his door, worried the old drunkard might have taken ill or worse. As they approached, a foul, metallic stench hit their noses. Blood. Alarmed, they gathered more people and forced the door open. What they found inside was beyond anything they could have imagined. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The room was in shambles. The floor had been cleared and smeared with blood, forming what appeared to be an eerie sacrificial pattern. In the center of the grotesque design lay a woman, her body twisted in terror. A gaping wound ran from her throat to her belly, her chest cavity hollow, her organs gone. The scene was nightmarish. One of the neighbors gagged, clutching their stomach as they vomited violently. The others could only stand frozen, horror etched across their faces. The once-quiet Bayer had vanished into something far darker, leaving behind a gruesome mystery that would haunt the harbor for years to come. Chapter 46: Testing Spells! "¡¯Lesser Fireball,¡¯" Leonard murmured, gripping his staff tightly. A blazing fireball, as large as a washbasin, materialized at the staff¡¯s tip, its searing flames casting flickering shadows in the dark. The fireball floated ominously in the air, radiating an intense heat that made Leonard squint, even from half a meter away. With a subtle motion of his staff, the fireball arced through the air like a comet, streaking toward the distant sea. The instant it struck the water¡¯s surface, it erupted in a small but fiery explosion. Sparks scattered, reflecting a red glow on the dark waves before fizzling out like a fleeting firework. The sight was dazzling, but against the vastness of the ocean, the fireball¡¯s impact felt like a mere ripple. Testing such a volatile spell at home was out of the question. The risk of burning down the house and forcing his family to relocate; was far too high. So Leonard had slipped out after nightfall, finding a secluded stretch of coastline to unleash his magic. With ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯ tested, Leonard turned to his next spell: ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand.¡¯ He carefully released his mental energy, directing it into the spell¡¯s framework. To his surprise, the casting process revealed two distinct rhythms. The first required a steady infusion of mental power, and the spell¡¯s consumption was continuous, like controlling the flow of water through a sluice gate. Leonard set it to the lowest level, feeling his mental energy drain at a rate of 0.1 points per second. In the air before him, an enormous, transparent hand materialized, visible only to him. It floated silently, detached at the wrist, and measured half a meter in length; a sizable, magical appendage under his control. Testing its strength, Leonard directed the hand to slam down on the ground. ¡¯Bang!¡¯ Dust rose as the impact echoed in the quiet night. Next, he commanded it to lift a stone, roughly the size of a basketball. The hand obeyed effortlessly, holding the rock suspended in mid-air. Satisfied, Leonard withdrew his mental energy, and the hand vanished. He rubbed his temples, feeling the strain. The spell was undeniably powerful but consumed mental energy at an alarming rate. Even with his current mental strength of 6.9, the ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand¡¯ could only be sustained for a maximum of 69 seconds. "Well," Leonard thought, "it¡¯s not practical for prolonged use, but it¡¯s flashy enough to impress anyone unfamiliar with magic." Finally, he moved on to the last spell: ¡¯Lesser Illusion.¡¯ As his mental energy drained, a phantom appeared before him, an almost perfect copy of himself. It was dressed identically, mimicking his stance and movements. But on closer inspection, the illusion¡¯s resemblance was only about 80%. Anyone who wasn¡¯t familiar with Leonard or who didn¡¯t look closely might have been fooled, but to a keen eye, the differences were noticeable. As he stood face-to-face with his spectral double, Leonard assessed the spell¡¯s potential. Though it lacked physical substance and couldn¡¯t interact with the world, it was a valuable tool for deception or diversion. Still, like the other spells, ¡¯Lesser Illusion¡¯ required precision and mental energy, which limited its usefulness for now. Checking his stats, Leonard reflected on his progress: --- Leonard Level: 9 (0/100) - Physical Fitness: 3.47 - Mental Strength: 6.9 - Mastery: - ¡¯Earth Ring Meditation (24%)¡¯ sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. - ¡¯Level 1 Mutation (47%)¡¯ (0/10) - ¡¯Level 1 Blood Science (5%)¡¯ (0/10) - ¡¯Level 1 Alchemy (2%)¡¯ (0/10) - General Experience: 40 --- Even with his growing mental strength, Leonard knew these spells were just the beginning. Each one offered unique advantages but came with limitations. For now, ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand¡¯ was better suited for brief utility rather than prolonged combat, and ¡¯Lesser Illusion¡¯ needed more refinement to fool a discerning observer. Still, the satisfying progress of mastering these spells gave him a renewed sense of purpose. Leonard glanced at his phantom one last time before dismissing it. ¡¯The path of a wizard isn¡¯t easy,¡¯ he thought, ¡¯but it¡¯s worth every step.¡¯ In Leonard¡¯s eyes, the most glaring flaw in the illusion spell was its temperament. The phantom standing before him had a dull, rigid demeanor, hardly convincing. This was the culmination of two weeks of relentless effort. A month had passed since Leonard last left Teacher Angelet¡¯s guidance, and at first, his illusions were laughably crude. While they might fool someone if they stood completely still, the moment they were made to move or perform actions, their stiffness and artificiality became obvious. Over the past half-month, Leonard had worked tirelessly to refine the spell, making significant progress. Now, the illusions were far more fluid and lifelike, but there was still room for improvement. As for his last spell, ¡¯Whip of Thorns¡¯, the framework was complete, but he lacked the critical ingredient: mutant plant seeds. There were two ways to acquire such seeds, find magical plants in the wild or cultivate them. Wild magical plants were out of reach for now, leaving Leonard to resort to cultivation. Using chemicals, he had been able to produce mutated seeds through large-scale screening. While these seeds showed signs of ordinary mutations, none possessed magical properties, which made him painfully aware of how difficult it was to create seeds with actual magical power. Just as Leonard turned to leave, a faint rustling from the bushes behind him caught his attention. His sharpened senses picked up the sound clearly in the stillness of the night. ¡¯An animal? Or someone who saw me casting spells?¡¯ Leonard acted as if he hadn¡¯t noticed, walking back calmly without a sound. In the shadows, Bayer crouched low, watching his target. His mind was foggy, his instincts primal, but the man ahead of him ignited an overwhelming hunger. Bayer had feasted on blood not long ago, yet this stranger gave off an irresistible allure, like a fresh, delicious meal waiting to be devoured. When Leonard turned a corner and vanished behind a large rock, Bayer quickened his pace, eager to close the distance. But as he rounded the corner, he was met with a jarring sight, the man was now running ahead. Fueled by instinct, Bayer broke into a sprint, charging through the bushes with surprising speed. Just as he gained momentum, a blinding heatwave struck him from behind. ¡¯Boom!¡¯ A searing explosion ripped through the air. Bayer let out a guttural scream as fire engulfed his back, the blazing impact slamming him to the ground. His vest disintegrated into charred scraps, the acrid smell of burnt flesh filling his nose. Despite the agony, Bayer struggled to his feet, only for a crushing mental shock to slam into his head. If Bayer could think clearly, he¡¯d have cursed this turn of events as completely unfair. Dazed and stunned, his body swayed on the spot, unable to react. Leonard wasted no time. Seeing his opponent temporarily immobilized, he launched an acid missile. The caustic substance splattered across Bayer¡¯s head, sizzling and eating away at his flesh. Yellow-green pus oozed from the wound, but even with half his head melted, Bayer refused to die. His body twitched and convulsed, defying reason. Leonard stared in shock. He had never seen anyone or anything, survive both a ¡¯Lesser Fireball¡¯ and an acid missile. Bayer¡¯s resilience was unnerving. But Leonard wasn¡¯t about to take chances. His mental strength was running low, and he couldn¡¯t afford to drag this out. Summoning ¡¯Mage¡¯s Hand¡¯, he picked up a heavy stone and brought it crashing down on Bayer¡¯s exposed skull. Once. Twice. Again and again. He didn¡¯t stop until Bayer¡¯s head was reduced to an unrecognizable pulp, a grotesque paste smeared across the ground. Breathing heavily, Leonard took a step back, his heart still pounding. "That was too close," he muttered. If Bayer had lasted just a little longer, Leonard would¡¯ve run out of mental energy and who knows what would¡¯ve happened then? Chapter 47: A Statue! Leonard used his Mage¡¯s Hand to lift the man into the air, shaking him like a rag doll. There was no resistance; his body hung limply, lifeless. But as Leonard jostled him, something heavy fell to the ground with a dull ¡¯thud.¡¯ Curious, Leonard walked over to inspect it and froze. It was a bronze statue, massive and intricate, standing about half his height. ¡¯How in the world was that guy carrying something so large?¡¯ he wondered. The statue had a peculiar design, a mermaid-like figure with tiny scales covering its surface and ring-shaped suction cups dotting its body. Its face was indistinct, a blurred and uneven mass of bumps that gave it an eerie, unfinished appearance. Long, kelp-like tendrils draped from its shoulders, and it was adorned with strange clothing crafted from shells, corals, and pearls. The artistry was bizarre, almost alien. As Leonard examined it, his gaze lingered a moment too long. His mind grew hazy, and a strange fog clouded his thoughts. "This¡­ this must be a treasure," he murmured, entranced. Suddenly, a jolt of clarity snapped him back to reality. A sharp, cold sensation coursed through his mind, clearing the fog. Leonard blinked and took a shaky step back, his heart pounding as he stared at the statue in fear. ¡¯What is this thing?¡¯ he thought. ¡¯I almost lost myself just by looking at it.¡¯ He cautiously glanced at it again, this time from the corner of his eye. The effect was much weaker now, likely because the statue¡¯s strange influence had already been dispelled once. Still, even a second look made his head throb faintly. "This statue," Leonard muttered to himself, "must be why that guy was so unnaturally resilient." Without hesitation, he slipped the statue into his space ring, determined to deal with it later. For now, he needed answers, answers only his teacher could provide. --- As Leonard made his way back, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Standing in the moonlight up ahead was a familiar figure. The man¡¯s face was hidden beneath the hood of a cloak, only his sharp chin visible in the pale glow. "Leonard," the figure called. "Teacher," Leonard said, startled to see Alfonso here. "I sensed that the soul protection spell I placed on you was destroyed," Alfonso said, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?" Leonard hesitated for a moment before retrieving the bronze statue from his space ring. As soon as Alfonso¡¯s eyes fell on it, he stilled, recognizing it instantly. "So, it¡¯s one of these," Alfonso said, his tone unreadable. "A statue of an Old God. This is¡­ far beyond your level right now." "An Old God?" Leonard repeated, the words unfamiliar and heavy with implication. "It¡¯s no secret," Alfonso began. "There were gods in this world once, long before the age of wizards. Most of them have since been captured, sealed, or destroyed by wizards. Only one remains free." He gestured to the moon above them. "She¡¯s still hanging up there, watching." Leonard tilted his head, gazing at the moon. For a brief moment, he thought he could make out the faint outline of a woman, her features obscured, staring down from the lunar glow. "The gods of the old times," Alfonso continued, "are known as Old Gods. And yes, there are also New Gods, though that¡¯s another story." "The statue," Alfonso said, pointing at the bronze figure in Leonard¡¯s hands, "contains a fragment of the Sea God¡¯s power. Through it, one could theoretically communicate with that god. The only question is¡ª¡¯which¡¯ Sea God?" "There¡¯s more than one?" Leonard asked, intrigued. "Of course. The God of Deep Sea Storms, the God of Tides, the Lord of Monsoons," Alfonso rattled off several names. "There are many, each ruling over different aspects of the sea." Leonard frowned, trying to process it all. "So, what now?" "Now?" Alfonso said, his voice hardening. "It¡¯s too early for you to meddle with gods. You¡¯re not ready." S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. But Leonard caught something in Alfonso¡¯s tone, a subtle suggestion that wizards dealing with gods wasn¡¯t unusual. "It sounds like wizards¡­ deal with gods often," Leonard probed. "Of course we do," Alfonso replied, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Gods are more than just deities; they¡¯re resources. Divine essence, divine power, divine fire, divine duties, these are all invaluable. For a wizard, they¡¯re prime experimental materials." The words sent a chill down Leonard¡¯s spine. Experimenting on gods? It was a thought that defied reason, yet Alfonso spoke as though it were routine. The statue in Leonard¡¯s possession suddenly felt far heavier, and the path ahead seemed far more dangerous than he had ever imagined. Leonard pondered Alfonso¡¯s words, slowly piecing together the implications. From just a few sentences, he had gained a profound understanding of the immense power wizards held in this world. ¡¯Gods can be captured and sealed?¡¯ The thought sent a shiver down his spine. ¡¯How powerful must wizards be to reach such heights?¡¯ While the strongest wizards subjugated gods, weaker ones exploited their remnants. "You¡¯re not even a formal wizard yet," Alfonso said, his tone sharp. "Your wizard¡¯s heart isn¡¯t condensed, and you lack the mental fortitude to resist the allure of a god¡¯s power." Leonard glanced at the statue, realizing its danger. ¡¯If I keep this, it could easily become a ticking time bomb.¡¯ Alfonso raised his right hand, purple light swirling in his palm. "Let me seal it for you," he said. The light coalesced into a glowing formation, encasing the statue in intricate layers of purple seals. The formations shimmered like a net, trapping the statue securely. Finally, the light dimmed, leaving faint purple traces on the statue¡¯s surface. Subtle and easy to overlook, they hummed with restrained power. "Thank you, Teacher," Leonard said, placing the sealed statue back into his space ring. Alfonso¡¯s gaze shifted to the corpse lying nearby. "A corrupted believer," he muttered, instantly recognizing its nature. He turned back to Leonard, his tone cold. "If you hadn¡¯t resisted the statue¡¯s influence, you would¡¯ve ended up like that wretch or worse. You might¡¯ve become a polluted priest." Alfonso¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Cherish your life, Leonard. Don¡¯t provoke forces you can¡¯t handle, especially before completing the mission I¡¯ve given you." "I understand, Teacher," Leonard replied, sensing the underlying concern in Alfonso¡¯s words. If anything happened to him, the task would remain undone. Alfonso¡¯s expression softened, and he offered a rare compliment. "You¡¯re making excellent progress." Leonard¡¯s mental strength had grown faster than Alfonso anticipated. He could sense the faint waves of mental energy radiating from Leonard¡¯s mind; imperceptible to ordinary people but glaringly obvious to a wizard of his caliber. "Wizard apprentices are divided into three levels," Alfonso began. "First-level apprentices have at least 5 points of standard mental power and must master one spell. Second-level apprentices require 10 points and must know at least three spells. Third-level apprentices need 20 points and five spells, including at least one first-level spell." "These are the general standards in the wizarding world," he continued. "But each academy sets its own additional criteria. Wandering wizard apprentices follow the general standards, while academy-certified apprentices are issued badges to mark their rank." Leonard quickly did the math. With his current mental power and spell mastery, he likely met the criteria for a first-level wandering apprentice. "My original goal for you was to reach the level of a second-level apprentice before boarding the ship," Alfonso said, his eyes glinting. "But now, I suspect you¡¯ll exceed my expectations." Leonard¡¯s heart skipped. Alfonso¡¯s words carried weight, suggesting both confidence and a challenge. "When you¡¯ve fully mastered the Earth Ring Meditation Method," Alfonso added, "come see me. I¡¯ll teach you a more advanced meditation method." Leonard nodded but felt a flicker of unease. Becoming a second-level apprentice seemed achievable, but reaching the third level felt like an entirely different beast. He knew the Earth Ring Meditation Method, even at its peak, could only bring him up to 10 points of mental strength. His strong mental power wasn¡¯t solely from the meditation method, it came from something else entirely, something Leonard had been careful to keep hidden. The thought made his pulse quicken. ¡¯Until I¡¯ve completely mastered the Earth Ring Meditation Method, it¡¯s best to avoid my teacher,¡¯ he decided. Alfonso might have noticed too much already. Leonard wasn¡¯t ready for those questions, not yet. Chapter 48: New Potions! Back home, ¡¯ stepped into his alchemy laboratory, his eyes landing on the glowing mushrooms sitting on the lab table. There were only enough left for one more experiment. "Not enough materials," he muttered, frowning. Borg had already scoured every pharmacy in Bangor Harbor, nearly clearing out their stock of glimmer mushrooms. Some pharmacists, sensing the demand, had even raised their prices. Despite this, the supply was still insufficient. Leonard set to work, carefully preparing the potion. With his growing proficiency, what used to take him two hours now took just one. He worked with practiced efficiency, and soon the potion was complete. A faint notification appeared in the corner of his vision: "Daily Task Completed: Experiment (I) ¨C Low Difficulty." "Completion: Good (¦ç)" "Reward: 20 General Experience Points, 2% Mutation Knowledge Progress." Leonard raised an eyebrow. ¡¯Good?¡¯ It was the first time he¡¯d received this evaluation, and he was curious. Opening the extended details, he discovered the reason: he had made only two minor mistakes this time, one related to a material and the other likely tied to the experiment¡¯s overall efficiency. ¡¯So speed and accuracy matter,¡¯ he thought, nodding to himself. With the completed potion in hand, Leonard reached for a thorn seed from a nearby box. He dropped it into the reagent, watching as tiny bubbles began to form on the seed¡¯s surface as it sank. Securing the bottle in a stand, he left it to work its magic. It would take half a day for the mutation to complete, plant seeds mutated faster than animal ones, but patience was still required. After cleaning up the lab, Leonard left the room, heading to the neighboring courtyard. As he approached, David stepped outside. "I hope I¡¯m not disturbing you," Leonard said. "No, Beauvoir is already asleep," David replied, smiling. Since their reunion, no one knew exactly what David had said to Beauvoir, but whatever it was, it worked, she had moved in with him, just as she promised. Despite David¡¯s current state, Beauvoir seemed unfazed, accepting him without hesitation. "If your wife is free tomorrow, could she help gather some herbs for me?" Leonard asked. "Beauvoir is very grateful to you, Master. She¡¯ll be happy to help," David assured him. Leonard listed a few more materials he needed, including rare herbs and minerals. With his expanding knowledge of mutation science, his experiments required increasingly uncommon ingredients. While some could be sourced from within the Kingdom of Erdoru, though often under different names; many were entirely unavailable locally. Among the potions he planned to craft were two promising new formulas: 1. Mutant Mental Power Recovery Potion This potion could rapidly restore a large amount of mental energy in a short time. However, it came with strict limitations: only one dose could be taken at a time. Consuming more would result in severe side effects, including body aches, dizziness, and intense discomfort. The key ingredient for this potion was the rare ¡¯Blue King Flower¡¯, a plant that was notoriously difficult to find. 2. Meditation-Accelerated Mutation Potion S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. This potion was designed to enhance meditation. Once consumed, it cleared the mind, allowing for greater focus and slightly improved meditation efficiency. Though its effects were subtle, they could make a significant difference over time. As Leonard mentally reviewed his plans, he couldn¡¯t help but feel the weight of the challenges ahead. Each step brought deeper understanding but also greater obstacles. The scarcity of materials and the complexity of the formulas underscored just how far he still had to go. Yet, he remained undeterred, progress, no matter how slow, was still progress. The potion Leonard planned to create required a rare material: ¡¯Rhodum Ore¡¯. This metal, known locally in the Kingdom of Erdoru as "fake silver," bore a striking resemblance to silver. For years, locals used it to forge counterfeit silver until its peculiar properties exposed the deception. Unlike real silver, Rhodum Ore didn¡¯t dissolve in water. Instead, contact with water caused it to soften, which led to its true nature being discovered. Despite its usefulness, the potion had a downside: mild addictiveness. Leonard found himself frustrated. Why did every mutated potion seem to come with a catch? Was it an inherent trait of mutation-based alchemy? He refused to believe side effects were inevitable. ¡¯If a potion could be engineered to mutate, it could also be refined to eliminate those mutations¡¯ downsides,¡¯ he thought. All it would take was a careful reversal of the process, working backward from the undesirable effects. --- The next morning, Leonard returned to his alchemy laboratory. The reagent bottle from the previous day¡¯s experiment was nearly empty, the liquid inside reduced to nothing. What remained was a single black seed resting at the bottom. Pouring the seed into his hand, Leonard activated the ¡¯Whip of Thorns¡¯ spell. The seed cracked, and a slender, thorny vine unfurled, writhing from the split like a serpent. As Leonard infused his mental power into the spell, the vine continued to grow, stretching to nearly ten meters in length. Under Leonard¡¯s control, the thorn whip moved like an extension of his arm, twisting and coiling through the air with a snake-like fluidity. It felt natural and responsive; far superior to the seeds he¡¯d tested over the past few days, which had been awkward and stiff to manipulate. The magic book on the ¡¯Whip of Thorns¡¯ had explained this phenomenon: ordinary seeds lacked sufficient power. Forcing magic into them would often damage their roots, resulting in brittle and rigid vines. However, seeds containing extraordinary energy could be activated fully, producing vines that were stronger, more flexible, and easier to control. From its smooth responsiveness, Leonard deduced that this seed had undergone a successful mutation. Yet, its exact nature remained unclear. --- Leonard began a series of tests to assess the seed¡¯s properties. He measured its flexibility, healing speed, toughness, and the hardness of its thorn spikes. The results were promising but not extraordinary. The vine¡¯s flexibility and durability were only marginally better than that of normal thorn vines, falling short of the standards for true extraordinary seeds. One aspect stood out, however: the thorns themselves. They were exceptionally hard, capable of leaving visible marks on iron. Finally, Leonard tested for special abilities by exposing lab mice to the vine. He discovered the thorns carried a paralyzing toxin, capable of immobilizing small animals within moments. While useful, the paralysis effect felt a bit redundant. Leonard already knew the ¡¯Sleeping Spell¡¯ and ¡¯Mental Shock¡¯, two powerful single-target control spells. Nevertheless, he reasoned that the thorn whip offered a distinct advantage: range. Unlike his other spells, the ¡¯Whip of Thorns¡¯ could target multiple enemies at once, making it effective for crowd control. With its extended reach and paralyzing effects, it added a new layer of versatility to his arsenal. Leonard looked at the vine coiling in his hand, a faint smile on his lips. Despite its imperfections, this mutated seed was a success in its own right. Every step forward, every experiment, brought him closer to mastering the art of mutation. And as he refined his techniques, Leonard knew the potential for even greater discoveries lay just ahead. Leonard examined the extraordinary seed in his hand, marveling at how quickly it had been developed. ¡¯Mutant seeds¡­ I thought they¡¯d take years to refine,¡¯ he mused, turning the small object over between his fingers. ¡¯Yet here it is, so soon.¡¯ He chose not to mention aloud that the Thorn Whip spell could only be cast using one seed at a time. This one, then, would make an excellent backup; ready to be swapped out when something better inevitably came along. Chapter 49: Potion Ingredients! David awoke to find Beauvoir already stirring, sunlight spilling softly through the window. Life as a baker had conditioned David to odd hours; late nights preparing bread so the townsfolk could enjoy it fresh at dawn. Beauvoir, sharing her life and home, had been swept up into this rhythm, her light sleep often disrupted. Seeing Beauvoir awake, David squatted beside the bed and ran her fingers gently through the other woman¡¯s tousled hair. "Hey, you¡¯re up early. Want to rest a bit longer? I can wake you in a while." Beauvoir shook her head, voice still soft with sleep. "No need. I¡¯ve already been awake long enough to make breakfast for you." She stretched her arms out from the warmth of the quilt, wrapping them lazily around David¡¯s neck. When she opened her eyes, they were bright with affection, locking onto David¡¯s unusual, glowing orange pupils. Without another word, Beauvoir pulled her into a lingering, passionate kiss. When it finally ended, David¡¯s cheeks were flushed, her composure momentarily shattered. Beauvoir smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind David¡¯s ear as she teased, "Don¡¯t you know how long your tongue is? You¡¯re lucky I like that about you, i especially liked it last night." "I¡¯m sorry," David replied sheepishly, though her eyes twinkled. "I just couldn¡¯t help myself." "Hmm," Beauvoir sighed in mock exasperation, sitting up and pushing the blanket aside. "Come on. What do you want for breakfast; mushroom fish soup or grilled steak?" David¡¯s hesitation was barely noticeable, but Beauvoir caught it. "Grilled steak sounds perfect," she finally said. "You like that too, don¡¯t you?" "Good choice," Beauvoir affirmed. But then, her expression softened as she watched David¡¯s face cloud slightly, her brows knitting together. "There¡¯s something you¡¯re not saying, isn¡¯t there?" David hesitated, then took a deep breath. "It¡¯s about my master¡¯s mission." Beauvoir listened carefully as David explained, nodding slowly when she finished. "Are these materials that important to him?" Beauvoir asked. "Yes. He¡¯s inherited the knowledge of wizards and conducts experiments; but don¡¯t worry. He only works with mice, nothing¡­ darker than that." Beauvoir tilted her head, eyes narrowing with thought. Then she smiled. "If it matters to him, then we¡¯ll help him get what he needs. David, that man saved you. I thought I¡¯d lost you forever back then. He brought you back to me, and for that, I¡¯ll always consider him my benefactor." Reaching up, she cupped David¡¯s face in her hands, tracing the cool scales that lined her cheeks. Once, those scales had terrified her. Now, they were part of the person she loved, strong and striking in their own way. "I love you, David," she whispered. David bowed her head, pulling Beauvoir into a firm embrace. "And I love you, my darling." The Ivy Pharmacy was one of the oldest establishments in Bangor Port, known for its reliability and the wisdom of its resident doctor. The recent shipwreck, however, had cast a shadow over the bustling town, and the once-busy pharmacy was eerily quiet. A red-haired woman stepped inside, her scarf wrapped tightly around her neck to shield against the cold. Her needle cap gave her a quaint appearance, but her determined eyes betrayed her urgency. She approached the counter. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Hello," she said briskly. "Do you have any Blue King Flowers for sale?" The girl behind the counter blinked, looking puzzled. "Blue King Flower? I don¡¯t think we carry that. I¡¯ve never even heard of it." Before the woman could respond, an older voice interrupted. "Blue King Flower, you say?" The old doctor, perched on a worn chair with his reading glasses perched low on his nose, looked up from his book. He scrutinized her over the rims, his expression one of curiosity. "What do you need it for?" "My nephew is sick," Beauvoir replied, shifting her accent to mimic the northern regions. "A remedy from my hometown calls for it." The doctor frowned, leaning back in his chair thoughtfully. "Blue King Flower used to be more common¡­ years ago. But not anymore." "Why is that?" Beauvoir asked, her brows furrowing. "Scarcity," the doctor explained. "The flower was rare to begin with, and lately, there¡¯s been a troubling trend. Certain people have been buying it up in bulk, leaving little for anyone else. Our last stock sold out over a year ago." "Who¡¯s been buying it?" Beauvoir pressed. The doctor shrugged. "Hard to say. People come, pay well, and disappear. If you need medicine, though, I¡¯d be happy to take a look at your nephew¡¯s condition myself. There¡¯s no need to rely on old remedies." Beauvoir smiled faintly, thanking the doctor, but her mind was already racing. ¡¯Who¡¯s buying up the Blue King Flower? And why?¡¯ Beauvoir frowned, a crease forming between her brows as she rattled off a list of other medicinal herbs. "What about other medicine on the list like Starroot? Elder Moss? Or maybe Moonveil Vine?" The old doctor adjusted his reading glasses, flipping through the pharmacy¡¯s inventory log. "We have all of those, except for ¡¯Fake Silver Ore¡¯." "Fake Silver Ore?" Beauvoir repeated, perplexed. The doctor sighed, clearly accustomed to explaining such things. "We¡¯re a pharmacy, miss. That particular material isn¡¯t exactly above board. If you want ¡¯that¡¯, you¡¯ll need to try the black market." Beauvoir¡¯s confusion deepened. "The black market?" The old doctor leaned back in his chair, his voice dropping slightly as if sharing a secret. "Fake Silver Ore looks nearly identical to real silver, which makes it quite popular with dishonest traders. They¡¯ll mix it into the genuine article, passing off inferior goods for profit. It¡¯s not something you¡¯ll find on regular shelves, not anymore. The only place it changes hands now is the black market." Understanding now, Beauvoir nodded and thanked the doctor. She spent the rest of the day visiting every major pharmacy in Bangor Port, inquiring tirelessly about the elusive ¡¯Blue King Flower¡¯. Each visit ended in disappointment, no one had it, and no one knew where to find it. Frustrated but determined, she gathered the herbs she ¡¯could¡¯ obtain and made her way back. --- At Leonard¡¯s house, the door creaked open to reveal a young boy with tousled hair, James. He looked up at the red-haired woman curiously. "Who are you looking for?" Beauvoir flashed a warm smile. "I¡¯m here to see Leonard. He helped me once before, and I wanted to bring him a little something as thanks." "Wait here," James said politely. "I¡¯ll ask my brother." Upstairs, James knocked softly on a wooden door. Inside, Leonard paused mid-meditation, his eyes flicking open. "I¡¯ll get it," he said, rising smoothly. Moments later, Leonard descended the stairs, his calm demeanor unchanged as he accepted the herbs Beauvoir offered. "Thank you," he said simply, polite but reserved. "You¡¯re welcome, benefactor." Beauvoir hesitated briefly before adding, "There¡¯s something you should know. Two of the materials you asked for, I couldn¡¯t find them. One¡¯s only available on the black market, and the other¡­ an old doctor told me someone¡¯s been buying up all the Blue King Flowers." Leonard¡¯s gaze sharpened ever so slightly, though his expression remained composed. ¡¯Someone else is after the Blue King Flower?¡¯ The Blue King Flower wasn¡¯t just any herb; it was the core ingredient in his reagent. Without it, the potion¡¯s efficacy would collapse. Auxiliary ingredients could be substituted, but not the ¡¯main ingredient¡¯. Whoever was purchasing the flowers, did they know its significance? Leonard gave Beauvoir a small nod. "Thank you for telling me this." He turned, heading back into the house, his mind already whirring. --- As Leonard walked through the narrow streets, he couldn¡¯t shake the unsettling feeling that someone was watching him. His heightened mental acuity, sharpened through years of magical training; made him more sensitive to the weight of gazes. This wasn¡¯t paranoia. It was real. He paused mid-step and turned his head sharply, his eyes locking on a shadowy figure lurking at the corner of an alleyway. The stranger froze for a heartbeat, then disappeared into the darkness. Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡¯Am I being followed?¡¯ He wasn¡¯t surprised. Gathering materials for anything connected to the Super Enchantress would inevitably draw unwanted attention. He continued walking, careful to appear unfazed, but his mind remained alert. In the twisting backstreets, the figure fled at a desperate pace, darting around corners and weaving through alleyways. Breathless, the man; Ben finally emerged onto the bustling main road. The noise and movement of the crowd brought a fragile sense of safety. He slowed down, trying to blend in. ¡¯He can¡¯t follow me here,¡¯ he reassured himself. And then he collided with someone. The man was tall, clad in a hooded robe, his face shadowed by the brim of his hood. Before Ben could react, the stranger whispered something; a low, chilling syllable that twisted unnaturally through the air. Ben¡¯s eyelids grew heavy. Sleep crashed over him like a wave, and he slumped forward into the man¡¯s arms. "Oh, there, there, brother. I get it, life¡¯s hard. Let¡¯s grab a drink later, alright?" The stranger¡¯s voice was warm, loud enough for nearby passersby to hear. To them, it looked like a tipsy pair of friends helping each other along. Leonard held the unconscious man with one arm, his expression blank as he steered them back into the shadows of a side alley. Gently patting the man¡¯s back in mock comfort, he muttered under his breath, "Let¡¯s pay some old friends a visit." Chapter 50: A Litch! At the edge of the old port, Leonard stood before a weathered shop, its paint peeling and windows dim. Inside, Golden Tooth; an imposing man with a glinting smile; stared at the uninvited guest, his face twisting into a stiff, nervous grin. "Well, well. Look who¡¯s come calling," Leonard said, his tone light but unmistakably dangerous. "You don¡¯t look happy to see me." Golden Tooth¡¯s smile wavered, more pained than friendly. "Of course I¡¯m happy to see you, Leonard. Why wouldn¡¯t I be?" Leonard stepped forward, his shadow stretching across the dusty floor. "Good. Then let¡¯s talk." "I need to borrow your basement again. It proved quite... ¡¯useful¡¯ last time," Leonard said calmly, his voice smooth as silk but carrying a subtle weight that made it impossible to refuse. Golden Tooth; a nickname earned for his ostentatiously shiny grin with gold grillz; grinned wider than usual, though his eyes held a flicker of unease. "Of course, big brother! Use it as you like." He reached into his desk drawer, retrieved a rusted key, and gestured for Leonard to follow him. The journey down to the basement was short, but each step seemed to carry them further into a world of cold shadows and stale, damp air. Golden Tooth used the space often; not for storage, but for breaking wills and bones. It was a place where rebellion was crushed underfoot, a place where cries of mercy went unanswered. Leonard followed wordlessly. When they reached the basement, Golden Tooth unlocked the heavy iron door and swung it open, the creaking hinges echoing ominously. Inside, a man lay slumped against the cold wall, wrists shackled in chains bolted to the stone. Golden Tooth turned to Leonard, tactfully stepping back. "Take your time, brother," he said, his voice low. With a final nod, he left and closed the door behind him, leaving Leonard alone with the prisoner. The silence in the room was deafening at first, save for the faint ¡¯drip, drip¡¯ of water leaking somewhere above. Leonard stepped closer to the man, Ben, as he had learned. He knelt down and tilted Ben¡¯s chin upward. The prisoner¡¯s face was red, one cheek swollen where he had already been struck, yet he remained stubbornly unconscious. "Time to wake up," Leonard muttered. Then, with deliberate care, he picked up a slender steel needle from a nearby rack of gleaming tools. He held it between his fingers, examining it thoughtfully as he glanced at Ben¡¯s limp hands and feet. "Fingers or toes first? Decisions, decisions." The needle¡¯s sharp point caught the faint light, and Leonard made his choice. --- Half an hour later, Ben was conscious, trembling, and broken in all the ways that mattered. Tears streaked down his dirty face as he stammered answers, desperate to placate the man who now sat calmly before him. Leonard leaned back, expression almost kind. "I hope you haven¡¯t lied to me, Ben. I¡¯ll send for a doctor to patch you up. But if I find even one false word¡­" He reached out, pinching Ben¡¯s face with mock affection, his tone gentle. "I¡¯ll come back. And we¡¯ll start over." S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Ben¡¯s head bobbed frantically. "I swear! I didn¡¯t lie! I told you everything!" His voice cracked with panic. Leonard smiled faintly, the warmth never reaching his eyes. "Really? Well, let¡¯s test that, shall we? I¡¯m giving you one last chance to be honest. If not..." Ben paled. "I swear it¡¯s true!" Leonard studied him for a moment before nodding. "Good. I believe you." Ben exhaled sharply, relief washing over himrelief that lasted for exactly one second. Leonard raised his hand, and a sizzling orb of acid appeared, swirling like a malevolent star. Before Ben could even scream, Leonard hurled the acid at his face. The liquid hissed and sizzled upon impact, and Ben¡¯s cries were muffled almost immediately. The acrid smell filled the room. Leonard stood and adjusted his sleeves, his expression blank once more. Leaving Ben alive was a risk he couldn¡¯t afford; Golden Tooth might eventually wring information from him. Better to be thorough. As he ascended the stairs and emerged from the basement, the cold air felt sharper than before. He paused, rubbing his face absentmindedly. "I haven¡¯t smiled in a long time," he murmured to himself. The grin he¡¯d worn earlier had felt stiff, unnatural. "Maybe I¡¯m out of practice." ¡¯But his efforts had borne fruit.¡¯ Ben¡¯s words replayed in Leonard¡¯s mind as he walked away. A wizard; a man named Roger; was in Bangor Port. Roger, according to Ben, was once nothing more than a distant cousin who had lived a quiet, ordinary life. He¡¯d moved to Bangor with his family to open a small pharmacy. Business had been good, but something had changed. Over time, the once friendly Roger became a shadow of himself; a man who kept to dark rooms with curtains drawn tight. Ben had been brought to Bangor by Roger¡¯s men, tasked with running errands of a mysterious nature. Blue King Flowers, a rare and potent plant, were frequently requested. Roger paid him well ¡¯too¡¯ well, Ben had admitted nervously. But the most chilling revelation was yet to come. One day, while delivering goods, Ben had seen Roger¡¯s hand emerge from the shadows. It wasn¡¯t the hand of a man. It was skeletal; nothing but bones. From that moment on, Ben had been gripped by terror. He suspected Roger had fallen victim to dark witchcraft or even possession by a demon. Leonard stopped walking, his thoughts swirling. A wizard; especially one who dealt in shadows and secrets, was a rare find. If Roger truly was in Bangor Port, then Leonard had stumbled upon an opportunity far more valuable than he had expected. "I¡¯ve caught a big fish indeed," he whispered, the faint trace of a smile curving his lips. Leonard¡¯s thoughts churned as he considered his next move. ¡¯Blue King Flower. Bones. Fingers.¡¯ These were pieces of a puzzle he was just beginning to understand. From his accumulated knowledge of alchemical mutations, Leonard knew that ¡¯Blue King Flower¡¯ was a common yet vital ingredient. It served as the foundation for numerous low-level potions designed to enhance mental power. But beyond its mundane uses, there were darker rumors; mentioned in one of the book that the flower possessed extraordinary effects on undead beings. Lich, for example. Wizards who had undergone the forbidden ritual of undead transformation were said to benefit greatly from its properties. The knowledge Leonard possessed about lich were frustratingly sparse; brief mentions, fleeting notes. No one truly knew how powerful a lich could become. But necromancers? He knew far more about them. The transformation ritual was costly, dangerous, and riddled with consequences. Yet it offered something wizards desired above all else: ¡¯time¡¯. A necromancer who embraced the ritual could gain centuries, even millennia, extending their existence in an undead form. An eternal life, at a price. Leonard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Roger¡¯s involvement with Blue King Flowers and Ben¡¯s story about his skeletal hand, painted a troubling picture. If Roger truly was dabbling in necromancy, time was of the essence. Ben had provided his address, and if Leonard wanted to catch Roger off guard, he had to act ¡¯tonight¡¯. The longer he waited, the higher the chance Roger would become suspicious. Ben¡¯s absence would raise questions, and questions were something Leonard couldn¡¯t afford. Leonard left the basement and ascended the creaking stairs. He found Golden Tooth in his office, fiddling with a pile of coins, his golden smile faltering as Leonard entered. "Golden Tooth," Leonard began casually, "do you know anything about fake silver mines?" Golden Tooth blinked, thrown off guard. "Boss, do you need silver coins? I¡¯ve got some here," he offered cautiously, trying to gauge Leonard¡¯s intent. Leonard¡¯s lips curled faintly. "I¡¯m not asking for coins, but since you mentioned it... I¡¯ll take some silver, too. Get me fake silver ore. And prepare more. I¡¯ll come for them in two days." Golden Tooth stiffened, realizing his mistake. He inwardly cursed himself. ¡¯Why did I say anything?¡¯ Leonard¡¯s gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, cold and unreadable, as though peeling back his thoughts like layers of an onion. "Understood, boss," Golden Tooth muttered, bowing slightly. Without another word, Leonard turned and left. Golden Tooth waited until he was sure Leonard was gone before collapsing into his chair with a sigh. That brief look; those piercing eyes, had been enough to make him sweat. "Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "He probably thinks I¡¯m up to something." Truthfully, Golden Tooth wasn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t have fake silver ore in stock, but he knew where to find some. It would cost a small fortune, but what choice did he have? Leonard was someone you didn¡¯t cross. His mind wandered to darker thoughts; revenge, perhaps. But he quickly dismissed the idea. The cost of hiring someone to take Leonard out far exceeded what Leonard demanded from him. And worse yet, if the job failed¡­ the consequences would be catastrophic. "Just lie down and accept your fate," he muttered bitterly, shaking his head. Chapter 51: Stitched Monster! Leonard made his way through the shadowy alleys of the Old Port and toward the quieter neighborhoods beyond. His destination: the backyard of the house next to his own. It wasn¡¯t long before a figure descended the wall like a gecko, agile and silent. "You really can¡¯t stop climbing walls, can you?" Leonard teased as David landed with a soft thud. David, all 2.5 meters of muscle and clumsy charm, scratched his head sheepishly. "Front doors are overrated. Besides, I get bored staying inside all day." Leonard arched a brow. "Bored, huh? Maybe next time you could tone down the noise." He crossed his arms, a faint smirk on his lips. "Walls don¡¯t make for great soundproofing, you know." David chuckled, unbothered. "I¡¯ll try to keep it down." Leonard shook his head. "I swear, sometimes you¡¯re more trouble than you¡¯re worth." David grinned. "But you keep me around, Master. So¡­ what¡¯s the plan today?" Leonard patted the towering man¡¯s shoulder; a reassuring, solid presence. "We¡¯re solving a problem. Someone might try to play wizard, and we need to make sure they don¡¯t." David straightened, his grin turning eager. "You mean fighting?" Leonard chuckled softly. "Maybe. Just stick close, and don¡¯t break anything I can¡¯t replace." As the pair strode off into the night, Leonard felt a small sense of security with David beside him. There was something primal about the presence of someone ¡¯big¡¯ a towering shield of flesh and bone ready to face anything head-on. ¡¯People like size,¡¯ Leonard thought with amusement. ¡¯I guess I¡¯m no exception.¡¯ S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Tonight, Roger wouldn¡¯t see them coming. ---- Meanwhile in the dimly lit dungeon, Roger worked methodically, his bony fingers moving with unsettling precision as he crafted his latest potion. The faint flame of his soul flickered deep within his hollow eye sockets, casting a sickly glow on the stone walls. His voice, a rasping whisper, echoed softly against the damp stone. "First, 200 grams of placenta water." He poured the thick, murky liquid into the wide-bottomed flask, the surface rippling like a viscous mirror. "Next, 40 grams of ground Blue King pollen¡­ 26 grams of Golden Rooster powder." The blue and yellow powders fell like fine dust into the mixture, their colors dissolving and blending until the liquid turned a pale, sickly green. Roger¡¯s hand paused for a moment as he reached for the next ingredient: four rotted rat eyeballs, plucked from their sockets and shriveled like grapes left too long in the sun. He dropped them into the flask without hesitation. The eyeballs landed silently, sinking into the pale green liquid as though devoured by it. The potion responded almost hungrily, bubbles rising thick and slow, the surface gurgling as if something within was struggling to breathe. Finally, Roger reached for a small jar filled with ash. "And 50 grams of plague patient¡¯s ashes." He tilted the jar carefully, letting the powder trickle into the boiling mixture. The moment the ashes touched the potion, the liquid began to solidify. The bubbling slowed until the entire mixture thickened into a gelatinous paste, quivering in its flask like a thing alive. Satisfied, Roger retrieved the flask and placed it on a nearby rack where a dozen similar bottles sat in neat rows. From left to right, their contents ranged from pale green to a dark, almost black solid, like tar left to dry. He selected the bottle at the far end, the darkest one and gave it a gentle shake. The contents broke apart into something solid, yet pliable. With a practiced hand, he poured the mixture onto a square of white parchment. It settled into a pale green, stick-like form, similar in shape to mung bean cakes but with a sickly sheen. Roger leaned in and inhaled deeply. A faint phosphorescent mist rose from the object, glowing eerily at the tip of his nose. He pulled back with a dry, rattling chuckle. "Perfect. The Rotten Rat Plague Powder is becoming more authentic." A sound; like bones clicking together, rumbled from his skeletal jaw in a low, unsettling laugh. Then came the knocks on the dungeon door. ¡¯Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.¡¯ Three long, one short. Roger¡¯s hand paused mid-motion. He tilted his head, listening. ¡¯The cousin,¡¯ he thought. He knew the knocking codes well; his cousin¡¯s rhythm was three long and one short, while his middleman, the one who traded for the plague powder, used the reverse: one short and three long. "He¡¯s Early," Roger muttered, a flicker of curiosity in his hollow voice. The trade wasn¡¯t due for several more days, so this visit could only mean that his cousin needed something. Roger moved quickly, climbing the narrow, damp staircase to a vantage point above the entryway. Hidden among towering shelves of grim alchemical tools, he peered down, his eye sockets narrowing. There stood his cousin; hatless, as instructed. Roger had warned him repeatedly never to wear a hat when visiting. The angle from the shelf was tricky, and a hat would obscure his face. Of course, Roger hadn¡¯t told him the ¡¯real¡¯ reason: he simply didn¡¯t trust anyone whose face he couldn¡¯t see. Satisfied it was his cousin, Roger retreated, snapping his fingers as he descended. From the shadows, a monstrous figure lumbered forward. Nearly three meters tall, it emerged from a cavity in the dungeon wall; bloated and grotesque, stitched together from pieces of corpses. Its patchwork flesh sagged, its enormous belly quivering with every step. The creature¡¯s presence was suffocating, exuding a stench of rot and a cloud of negative energy that seemed to poison the air. --- Outside the dungeon, hidden behind the stone gate, Leonard crouched with every sense on high alert. He had prepared to release a spell the moment the door opened, but what he felt now made his stomach twist. From behind the stone, his spiritual perception picked up something foul; thick with death, decay, and that unmistakable pulse of negative energy. This wasn¡¯t Roger. "The Stitched Monster," Leonard muttered to himself, recalling Ben¡¯s description. Ben had told him about this; how his cousin Roger would sometimes send his abomination to answer the door when there was nothing for Ben to do. It was only when Roger required a specific task that he opened the door himself. Ben had been infuriated by this arrangement, spitting his disgust as he ranted. "That monster! That abomination! He¡¯d send it to greet me, like some sick joke. I swear, one day I¡¯ll¡­" Ben¡¯s voice had faltered then, his righteous fury crumbling under his own cowardice. Leonard steadied himself. He hadn¡¯t come all this way to let a stitched monster get in his way. He knew what lay beyond that door and he would deal with it. "Tonight," Leonard whispered, his eyes narrowing. "Tonight, this ends." The stone gate began to creak open, the smell of death spilling out like a fog, and Leonard prepared to strike. Leonard crouched low in a shadowy corner of the dungeon, blending seamlessly into the gloom. His gray wizard cloak, a gift drawn from Angele¡¯s ring, draped around him like liquid smoke. The fabric was enchanted ¡¯shielded¡¯ its surface constantly shimmering with the faint weave of a ¡¯Level 1 Shield Spell¡¯. This subtle magic generated an invisible force field around him, enough to deflect minor energy attacks and physical strikes. For now, it was Leonard¡¯s most reliable layer of defense. If the shield broke, he knew he could recharge the spell using his mental power, though it would drain him. A faster option existed: ¡¯magic stones¡¯ small crystalline vessels brimming with energy that could instantly restore the cloak¡¯s defenses. Leonard kept a few tucked safely in his belt pouch. His attention snapped back to the dungeon door. Slowly, with a deep groan of rusted hinges, it creaked open. A hulking figure stepped into the flickering torchlight. Leonard¡¯s breath hitched as the creature emerged; a grotesque, patchwork abomination stitched together with crude seams. Its flesh sagged unnaturally, mottled with bruises and rot, while its bloated arms swayed like pendulums. The creature¡¯s face bore several mouths; one where it should be, others stitched grotesquely onto its neck and palms. The mouths croaked disjointed sounds in a chorus of overlapping voices. "Go¡­ go¡ªgooo¡­!" It was less speech and more a cacophony of snarls, like multiple pipes spewing corrupted air at once. Leonard squinted, analyzing the creature. It was massive, but not quite the size or strength of an ¡¯Abomination¡¯, a far more advanced undead entity. "Not an Abomination," he murmured to himself. If it were, it would have already sensed him. Unlike stitched monsters, Abominations possessed a dangerous intelligence, magic abilities, and the terrifying knack for self-repair. They could absorb corpses into their bodies, growing in strength and size with every fallen victim. Wizards had long studied them, fascinated by their resilience and potential for weaponization. This creature, however, was merely a ¡¯Stitched Monster¡¯. Simpler, cruder, dumb as a brick, yet shockingly strong. Its grotesque form was enough to terrify the average person, and for many wizards, that was sufficient. Leonard steadied his breathing, watching as the monster lumbered forward. Suddenly, the ¡¯mirror image¡¯ of "Ben" appeared; Leonard¡¯s illusion, carefully crafted to mimic the trembling, nervous man who had served as his informant. The stitched monster shuffled after the illusion, its massive arms swinging dangerously close, even passing ¡¯through¡¯ the spectral form. Leonard winced but held his ground. ¡¯The darkness helps me here,¡¯ he thought, grateful for the creature¡¯s abysmally low intelligence. It hadn¡¯t noticed anything was amiss. He trailed behind, creeping between shadowed pillars and avoiding the slimy potholes on the dungeon floor. The stench of rot hung thick in the air, mixed with the sour odor of dead rats. Leonard nearly gagged as he pressed forward, his boots skimming the edges of stagnant water. "How does anyone live down here?" he muttered under his breath, his nose wrinkling. He¡¯d read that undeath dulled the senses, but this level of tolerance for filth bordered on madness. Chapter 52: Necromancer! Reaching a sturdy stone pillar, Leonard slipped behind it, pressing his back against the cold, damp surface. He risked a glance. Roger was there, hunched over a workbench littered with potions, reagents, and bits of unspeakable things. Leonard estimated the distance: ¡¯forty¡­ fifty meters.¡¯ Far enough to stay out of immediate range of acid missiles and most direct spells, but close enough for him to act. A sleeping spell wouldn¡¯t work; undead creatures were highly resistant to anything that dulled the senses. Thorn Whip? Useless. Its ten-meter range was far too short. "Fireball it is," Leonard whispered, reaching a decision. The secondary fireball spell was quick, reliable, and destructive; everything he needed right now. He took a deep breath, calming his mind. Using mental power to lock onto Roger would risk alerting him, so Leonard relied on pure physical aim. His fingers moved deftly as he summoned the spell. Energy pooled at his fingertips, swelling into a glowing orb of molten flame. ¡¯One second.¡¯ The fireball solidified into a perfect sphere, heat shimmering around its surface. Leonard¡¯s muscles tensed. ¡¯Two seconds.¡¯ In the distance, Roger began to straighten, his head snapping up as if sensing something was amiss. The stitched monster let out a low, garbled growl. "Now." Leonard released the fireball. It shot forward like a cannon blast, streaking through the dark with a trail of light. Roger turned fully just in time to see it; a glowing orb of death hurtling toward him. "What¡ª?!" Roger hissed, his raspy voice full of shock. The fireball struck home, detonating with a roar that shook the dungeon walls. Flames engulfed Roger¡¯s table, reagents shattering with hisses and pops. The stitched monster let out a guttural roar, staggering backward as the explosion threw shadows dancing across the walls. From his cover, Leonard grinned. "Got you." The smoke swirled, and Leonard prepared his next move. He couldn¡¯t let up now, Roger was dangerous, and this fight was far from over. Roger¡¯s mouth opened, his voice crackling as he began to chant, but his words were far too slow for the fireball streaking toward him. ¡¯BANG!¡¯ The explosion rocked the dungeon. Flames roared through the air, and a shockwave splintered nearby wooden shelves. The ¡¯Stitched Monster¡¯ loyal to a fault, threw its massive arm forward to shield Roger. Half of the grotesque limb was instantly obliterated, chunks of scorched flesh and charred stitches scattering across the floor. The fireball¡¯s heat licked at Roger, setting his black robe alight. He staggered backward, batting at the flames with frantic, skeletal hands. "It hurts!" The Stitched Monster¡¯s mouths shrieked in a horrid chorus, its voice a grotesque harmony of pain. "Don¡¯t worry, protect¡­ protect¡­ I will protect you!" It turned its lopsided head to Roger, its remaining limbs twitching. Multiple mouths on its face, neck, and palms quivered as they repeated their desperate promise. Leonard blinked from his cover, caught off guard. "So loyal?" he muttered under his breath. He had always thought stitched monsters were dull brutes, incapable of advanced reasoning. Yet here it was, throwing itself into harm¡¯s way like a faithful guard dog. Roger¡¯s expression twisted into something furious and calculating. The flames on his robe finally extinguished, and his bony hands began tracing complex sigils in the air. His voice rasped out another incantation, the ancient syllables dripping with venom. Leonard narrowed his eyes. "Something big is coming." From Roger¡¯s hands, a ball of black energy coalesced; dark and pulsing like a malevolent heart. It shot outward, expanding rapidly until it formed a shimmering ¡¯black dome¡¯ around him. The shield swallowed all light, turning the area within it into an unnatural void. The spell was both unnerving and effective. Leonard¡¯s illusion of "Ben" shattered instantly upon contact with the spreading darkness. Leonard frowned, his fingers already twitching to prepare another fireball. He had no idea what Roger was doing inside that dome. A defensive spell? A trap? Either way, it meant trouble. Roger¡¯s mocking voice drifted out from the darkness, cold and accusing. "You think you can kill me? Hah! Was it the nobles who sent you?" Leonard stayed silent, his focus unbroken. "Cowards!" Roger spat, his voice rising. "When you needed me, you bought plague powder without question. And now that the plague has spread out of your control, you come to kill me? To silence me?" Leonard¡¯s eyes widened slightly. "The plague¡­ spreading in the north¡­ was him?" The implications were chilling. This wasn¡¯t just an evil wizard holed up in a dungeon; this man had unleashed a catastrophe. ¡¯A plague.¡¯ A weapon of devastation that had already claimed countless lives. Roger¡¯s laughter rattled through the black dome. "I knew this day would come! I just didn¡¯t think it would be ¡¯today¡¯. So be it!" Leonard didn¡¯t respond. His mind raced, but his hands remained steady as he began to chant, low and deliberate. Another fireball coalesced in front of him, the air shimmering with its heat. Inside the black dome, Roger fell silent. Leonard smirked faintly, realizing something. "So you can see me in there, can¡¯t you? But that means¡­ the view goes both ways." It was a critical insight. Roger¡¯s spell shielded him from view, but it wasn¡¯t a perfect barrier. Leonard¡¯s fireball finished forming. He aimed physically once again, releasing his spell without hesitation. ¡¯WHOOSH!¡¯ The fireball shot forward like a meteor, its orange glow searing through the darkness. It struck the black dome, exploding with a deafening roar. For a split second, Leonard saw a shape dart behind the ¡¯Stitched Monster¡¯, which once again stepped into the fireball¡¯s path. The monster howled as flames devoured its bloated body. Patches of rotten flesh sizzled and split open, spilling rancid, burning fat onto the floor. The stench of burning meat filled the dungeon, acrid and choking. Leonard didn¡¯t pause. "Again." He summoned another fireball, his chanting quick and sharp. This time, he unleashed his mental power fully, locking onto the smaller target he had glimpsed behind the monster. Roger¡¯s voice rose from the shadows, panic edging into his tone. "You don¡¯t follow the rules, do you?" A gray ray shot out of the dome toward Leonard; quick, focused, and deadly. ¡¯THUD.¡¯ It hit Leonard¡¯s invisible shield, rippling against the force field of his enchanted cloak before dissipating harmlessly. Leonard barely flinched. "You¡¯ll have to do better than that," Leonard muttered. The next fireball flew like a blazing comet, striking the Stitched Monster for the ¡¯third time¡¯. "AAAAAH! IT HURTS!" The monster¡¯s mouths screamed in an ear-splitting chorus. It flailed madly, its enormous body now a walking pyre. Greasy smoke billowed from its flesh, the fire consuming it from the inside out. Leonard caught the sharp, sickening smell of melting corpse fat. The creature staggered back, its remaining limbs twitching spasmodically. The flames were spreading faster than it could recover, and its gargantuan form was slowly collapsing under its own weight. Leonard didn¡¯t let up. He prepared yet another fireball, his expression cold and merciless. "Burn, you patchwork bastard," he muttered, his voice low and resolute. Roger¡¯s spell had bought him time, but Leonard could already see the cracks forming in his defenses; literally and figuratively. The stitched monster was falling apart, and soon Roger would be next. "You¡¯re running out of monsters to hide behind, Roger." Leonard¡¯s words carried through the smoke-filled air as the fireball ignited in his hands. A gray ray shot from the depths of the black dome, streaking toward Leonard like a spear of shadow. But once again, the transparent barrier flared to life around him, absorbing the attack effortlessly. Leonard smirked to himself. It was almost comical; two spellcasters, trading blows like inexperienced novices. The only difference? One of them, Leonard, was wearing ¡¯equipment far beyond his level¡¯. His enchanted cloak shimmered faintly, untouched. Roger¡¯s frustration erupted from the dome, his hoarse voice trembling with rage. "Damn it! STOP! Stop this madness, and I¡¯ll give you whatever you want!" Leonard ignored him, his chanting low and steady as he summoned yet another fireball. A swirling sphere of flame formed in front of him, the heat so intense it made the air ripple. Then the dome shuddered, and a figure burst from its blackness. Roger staggered forward, flames crawling over his skeletal form like hungry serpents. His black robe was reduced to tatters, and his bones were riddled with cracks and scorch marks. Behind him, the ¡¯Stitched Monster¡¯ lumbered, its bloated flesh melting and burning. A hole had been blown straight through its stomach, and sizzling fat dripped from the wound, hissing as it hit the ground. Even in agony, the Stitched Monster reached out with its last remaining hand, gripping Roger¡¯s shoulder gently. "Protect¡­ protect you," it moaned, all of its mouths speaking in a trembling harmony, the sound like a haunted choir. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Roger twisted his head back, the flames flickering wildly in his empty eye sockets. His voice erupted in fury. "Who the hell asked for your protection?!" He hissed through gritted teeth. "You¡¯re nothing but a puppet! A worthless pile of flesh I stitched together! You¡¯re not her¡ªdo you hear me? YOU ARE NOT HER!" The Stitched Monster faltered. Its grotesque, bloodied face contorted in confusion, the stitched lips on its shoulder murmuring softly. "Protect¡­ Mommy wants to protect you¡­" Roger roared, his skeletal form trembling as if the words clawed at some buried part of him. "No! My mother¡¯s dead! She died years ago! You¡¯re just a mockery, a pitiful substitute I made to fill the void she left behind!" Chapter 53: Roger’s Inheritance! Silence fell for a beat, heavy and strained. Leonard watched from the shadows, his fireball ready but hesitating. Roger¡¯s voice, weaker now, came out like a cracked whisper. "I thought¡­ I thought I could use you. A perfect tool. You were supposed to fight for me¡­ die for me. But you¡¯re nothing but a reminder." The Stitched Monster¡¯s stitched lips quivered, the voices now soft and uncertain. "Protect¡­ you." Roger turned, his gaze meeting Leonard¡¯s. For a moment, the fire in his eye sockets blazed brighter, a desperate determination taking hold. "Take my life if you want it," he rasped. "But spare it; spare the creature. It¡¯s weak. Useless. It¡¯ll pose no threat to you." Leonard raised an eyebrow, considering the offer. Roger continued, his voice shaking. "As payment¡­ I¡¯ll give you everything; my inheritance. All the knowledge I possess. Only I can pass it on. If I die here, you¡¯ll get nothing but burnt scraps and broken bones." The dungeon fell silent again, save for the quiet crackling of flames. Leonard¡¯s sharp gaze narrowed as he weighed the risks. Finally, he spoke. "Fine. But show me the inheritance first." Roger nodded slowly, defeat clear in his posture. He raised one skeletal hand, trembling, and reached toward his burning eye socket. "Master, you¡¯re incredible! You took them both down by yourself!" David¡¯s booming voice echoed from the darkness as he jogged toward Leonard, his oversized frame moving with surprising agility. His grin stretched wide, a mix of admiration and awe. Leonard didn¡¯t respond immediately, his expression calm but distant. David, noticing the silence, scratched his head nervously. "Uh¡­ I didn¡¯t mean to slack off. I circled around to attack from behind, but¡­ well, the enemy surrendered before I could even swing!" He let out a sheepish laugh. "Who would¡¯ve thought they¡¯d be so spineless?" Leonard glanced at him and waved a hand dismissively. "It¡¯s fine." The truth was, the scene he had just witnessed; the stitched monster¡¯s final moments, its confused loyalty and quiet despair, left Leonard feeling heavier than he expected. He bent down and picked up the ¡¯gray soul bead¡¯ from the scattered remains, holding it delicately between his fingers. Leonard turned it over thoughtfully, the bead faintly warm in his hand. Roger¡¯s creation, the stitched monster, had shown flickers of its former life; perhaps fragments of a memory or a deep-rooted obsession. A tragic echo. "But it¡¯s over now," Leonard murmured to himself. "Everything¡¯s gone." Soul beads were precious things, crystallized fragments of memory and spirit. Whoever possessed it could "read" the memories inside, replaying them like scenes from a distant dream. But memories were fragile¡ªeach recall chipped away at their clarity, leaving them incomplete and tattered over time. Leonard tucked the soul bead into his pouch and moved toward the workbench Roger had left behind. The desk was cluttered but orderly, with glass vials, porcelain containers, and carefully labeled jars holding various ground ingredients. His gaze caught a particular vial of ¡¯Blue King Flower powder¡¯ the very material he needed. He lifted it and inspected the contents closely. The powder had been ground to near perfection; fine, consistent, and pure. Leonard¡¯s lips quirked into a rare smile. "At least Roger had skill," he muttered. "This will save me some time." David, now leaning against the doorway, eyed him curiously. "Master? What¡¯s all this junk? Looks like someone¡¯s kitchen exploded in here." Leonard ignored the comment, carefully gathering up the materials he would need. The ¡¯Blue King Flower¡¯ powder alone was enough to make twenty bottles of ¡¯Mutant Mental Power Recovery Potion¡¯. "With this," Leonard murmured, inspecting a bone-handled grinder left on the table, "I¡¯ll have blue potions ready. No more running out of mental energy mid-battle." He glanced back at David, who seemed moments away from dozing off. "Keep watch. Don¡¯t let anyone sneak up on us." David straightened immediately, thumping his chest. "You got it, Master! I¡¯m on it." Leonard sat down, the soul bead glinting faintly as he pressed it gently between his eyebrows. A strange, prickling sensation spread across his forehead. Then, as if a door had opened in his mind, ¡¯images flooded in¡¯ scenes flashing one after another like a reel of film unraveling before his eyes. --- The visions were fragmented but vivid. Leonard saw Roger¡¯s life play out in chaotic bursts of memory; pain, loss, and twisted determination. The earlier scenes passed like shadows: a ¡¯young boy clinging to his mother¡¯s hand¡¯, following her through bustling markets. Then tragedy struck. A marquis¡¯s men; greedy, cruel, and ruthless, descended upon them. His mother, who had ventured north to purchase medicinal herbs, was killed protecting her wealth. Her bloodied form crumpled to the ground while Roger, barely alive, was discarded alongside her body in a nameless grave. Leonard¡¯s chest tightened as the memories continued. ¡¯The grave¡¯ dark, cold, filled with corpses. Roger, broken and dying, stumbled upon an ancient relic buried beneath the dirt: the ¡¯inheritance of a necromancer¡¯. Desperation pushed him to embrace it. Necromancy rebuilt his shattered body, stitching his bones and soul back together in grotesque form. Driven by vengeance, Roger had unleashed his newfound power upon the marquis¡¯s lands. He ¡¯created the plague¡¯, brewing the deadly ¡¯Rotten Rat Plague Powder¡¯ with meticulous care. Diseased rats; mutated through dark rituals; spread toxins that cascaded like a wave of death over the marquis¡¯s territories. But the marquis never fell. Leonard saw Roger¡¯s fury and frustration as he realized the truth, beings with ¡¯extraordinary power¡¯ guarded the noble¡¯s strongholds. The plague claimed countless innocent lives but could not reach the marquis himself. In his desperation, Roger turned to creating ¡¯undead creatures¡¯ stitching together corpses, merging flesh and bone, building monstrosities capable of wreaking havoc. But they, too, failed to breach the marquis¡¯s defenses. Sear?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Roger¡¯s memories turned bitter. His stitched creations; monsters meant to be tools, became painful reminders of his past. The stitched monster he had crafted using his mother¡¯s corpse was the most damning of all. It called to him in her voice, confused and loyal, and it ¡¯haunted him¡¯. Later, through a string of clues, ¡¯a rival nobleman¡¯, long at odds with the marquis, found Roger in secret and offered him a deal. The man claimed to share Roger¡¯s hatred and provided him with detailed information about the marquis¡¯s operations and weaknesses. Leonard frowned as he recalled the fragmented memories. "What an idiot," he muttered, shaking his head. "He thought he was partnering with someone who shared his goals, but it¡¯s obvious he was being used." Roger¡¯s story was a tragic one. A man consumed by revenge, he had poured everything, his time, his energy, his very soul; into a single cause. Yet despite his efforts, he had achieved little. Years of study and experimentation had yielded no victory, only more suffering. The nobleman Roger had trusted had likely used his plague and undead experiments for ¡¯some other purpose entirely¡¯. Whether the feud with the marquis had even been real was now questionable. --- Leonard let out a slow breath as the visions faded. The memories had been sparse, with only fleeting glimpses of Roger¡¯s life, but they told a story of ¡¯grief, vengeance, and obsession¡¯. David looked over, concerned. "Master? You good?" Leonard nodded slowly, scribbling down notes on parchment as the memories crystalized in his mind. Roger¡¯s inheritance was no small prize ¡¯17 alchemical recipes¡¯, extensive knowledge of necromantic rituals, the crafting of undead creatures, and a list of ¡¯11 spells¡¯. The plague itself, the Rotten Rat Plague, was a horrifying testament to the power hidden in those recipes. Leonard set down the quill, staring at the words he had copied. "Roger¡¯s vengeance started a plague that killed thousands. But in the end, he never got what he wanted." David frowned. "So¡­ what happens now? Are we done here?" Leonard stood; his expression unreadable. "Almost." Leonard sighed. "Blind obsession always ends the same way." Roger¡¯s memories had revealed a few scraps of information about his abilities. Despite years of effort, he had learned only ¡¯three spells¡¯: ¡¯Dark Energy Ray¡¯, ¡¯Dark Light¡¯, and ¡¯Organ Preservation¡¯. His mental power was so weak that it could only support the casting of ¡¯five spells¡¯ in a short span of time. After struggling for nearly a month to learn a single spell, Roger had abandoned further study. For him, a simple ¡¯Dark Energy Ray¡¯ capable of killing an ordinary person outright, had been enough. Leonard couldn¡¯t help but find the man pitiful. He had nothing of real value beyond his inheritance, a few scattered plague powders, and the stitched monster that now lay lifeless in the dungeon. Chapter 54: Learning New Spells! As Leonard packed up the laboratory, he worked quickly but methodically. The alchemical tools, glass vials, and porcelain jars, all useful; were carefully transported to his own alchemy lab. The stored undead materials Roger had hoarded were sealed into crates and set aside. But then Leonard came across something that made his stomach turn. He stood at the edge of a ¡¯deep pit¡¯ near the center of the dungeon, its foul stench hitting him like a physical blow. Inside the pit swarmed ¡¯hundreds of rats¡¯, grotesque and unnaturally large. Their fur was matted with filth, their eyes glowed dimly in the dark, and their bodies rippled with unhealthy bulk. Among them lay ¡¯thousands of dead rats¡¯, their corpses crawling with writhing maggots and rotting to the bone. Leonard¡¯s face twisted in disgust. "What the hell¡­" The sight was grotesque, a rancid monument to Roger¡¯s plague experiments. Leonard shook his head sharply, turning away. "If I bring those into my lab, the whole place will reek for weeks." Raising his hand, Leonard muttered a quick incantation. ¡¯Two fireballs¡¯ roared to life, crackling with intense heat as they hovered above his palm. With a flick of his wrist, the fireballs shot into the pit. ¡¯WHOOSH.¡¯ The rats screeched as flames erupted across the pit, consuming living and dead alike. The fire spread quickly, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. Leonard watched until the last ember died, leaving behind a charred, silent grave. "Roger left me fourteen vials of plague powder," Leonard muttered to himself as he turned away, "so I don¡¯t need those rats anyway. And I¡¯ve got the method memorized if I ever need to breed them again." He glanced at the scattered remains of Roger and the collapsed form of the stitched monster. A chill hung in the air, a silence heavy with finality. "Some burdens consume you, no matter how strong you think you are." Leonard¡¯s voice was low. "Let¡¯s move. We¡¯ve got work to do." David followed quietly, his usual lightheartedness subdued as the two figures stepped out of the dungeon and into the waiting darkness. Once he returned home, Leonard sank into his chair and lit an oil lamp. The battle and its aftermath had drained his mental strength, but a few hours of ¡¯meditation¡¯ restored much of what he had lost. Over time, his mental power had grown stronger, more refined, progress that was slow but undeniable. Leonard exhaled, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. "At least that¡¯s one silver lining to all this." But there was no time to rest. He pulled the ¡¯soul bead¡¯ from his pocket, its faint gray glow casting eerie shadows on the walls. Placing it between his eyebrows, he prepared to unlock Roger¡¯s secrets. --- The memories surged forward like waves crashing on a shore; disjointed but clear. Leonard copied everything onto parchment as quickly as possible. Each time a detail slipped, he revisited the soul bead, drawing the information out again. Time blurred as the hours passed. The soul bead could only hold so much before its memories began to erode, so Leonard prioritized the most critical parts: recipes, spells, and essential techniques. By daybreak, his table was littered with notes and diagrams. Leonard extinguished the lamp and pulled the curtains open, letting sunlight stream into the room. He flexed his fingers, wincing at the soreness. "Worth it." Roger¡¯s inheritance was vast and valuable. The necromancer had left behind ¡¯17 alchemical recipes¡¯, including the formula for the deadly ¡¯Rotten Rat Plague Powder¡¯, along with a wealth of knowledge on ¡¯undead creation¡¯ and necromantic rituals. But the true prize was the ¡¯11 spells¡¯ Roger had recorded. Leonard glanced at his notes and felt his head throb. "Eleven spells¡­" He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Most were ¡¯zero-level spells¡¯, simple but effective tools he hadn¡¯t yet collected. But there was ¡¯one first-level spell¡¯ a far more complex piece of magic. Leonard grimaced as he examined its structure. It required ¡¯over four hundred nodes¡¯ to form, its intricate framework spiraling like an impossible labyrinth. "That¡¯ll take months," Leonard muttered, rubbing his temples. The sheer complexity was overwhelming, even for him. Still, the potential was undeniable. Each spell was a stepping stone, a key to greater power. Leonard gazed at the sunlight streaming into the room, his resolve hardening. "One step at a time," he told himself quietly. "Every bit of knowledge I take brings me closer to the truth. And the power I¡¯ll need." With that thought, Leonard began organizing his notes, ready to tackle the days of study that lay ahead. Leonard sat at his desk, meticulously organizing the fragments of Roger¡¯s inheritance. Stacks of parchment, glass vials, and necromantic tools lay scattered across the table like pieces of a dark puzzle. As his fingers sifted through the notes and knowledge, he couldn¡¯t help but let out a quiet sigh. "All this¡­ and it¡¯s still just the legacy of a third-level necromancer apprentice." He paused, staring at the neatly copied spells and recipes. Roger¡¯s inheritance was impressive for an apprentice, but it wasn¡¯t the wealth of a ¡¯formal wizard¡¯ just a grim testament to years of obsessive study and desperation. "No wonder they say hard work matters more than talent in this profession." Leonard muttered to himself. "Even for someone like Roger, with such a tragic drive, it took decades just to reach this point." From what Leonard had compiled, he could roughly gauge what a third-level wizard apprentice in necromancy could achieve; how many spells, methods, and trump cards they had up their sleeves. It wasn¡¯t vast, but it was enough to be dangerous, especially with Roger¡¯s extended lifespan as an undead. Necromancers, after all, gained time. And time was the greatest resource a wizard could ask for. --- Leonard¡¯s gaze drifted across the parchment as he began to categorize the spells. ¡¯Zero-Level Spells (Tricks and Utilities):¡¯ 1. ¡¯Sleeping Charm¡¯ 2. ¡¯Dark Energy Ray¡¯ 3. ¡¯Organ Preservation¡¯ 4. ¡¯Dark Light¡¯ 5. ¡¯Light¡¯ 6. ¡¯Repair¡¯ 7. ¡¯Poison Spray¡¯ 8. ¡¯Touch of Fatigue¡¯ 9. ¡¯Switch¡¯ 10. ¡¯Communication¡¯ ¡¯First-Level Spell:¡¯ - ¡¯Fear¡¯ Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard ran his fingers across the list, his mind parsing each spell in detail. "Zero-level spells¡­ functional but low-impact." He smirked faintly. "They¡¯re not meant to win battles. They¡¯re meant to make life easier, tools of survival and experimentation." He paused over ¡¯Dark Energy Ray¡¯, remembering Roger casting it on himself during their encounter. "Straightforward and brutal," Leonard muttered. "A blast of destructive dark energy. Useless against undead, but deadly for anything alive." The next spell was ¡¯Organ Preservation¡¯, and Leonard¡¯s brows furrowed in curiosity. He skimmed Roger¡¯s notes. "Preserves the activity of an organ for twenty-four hours¡­ practical for keeping ingredients fresh during spellwork or alchemical experiments." He tapped the paper thoughtfully. "Necromancers would need that." Then came ¡¯Dark Light¡¯, the spell Roger had used to cloak himself in blackness. Leonard had witnessed its effectiveness firsthand. "A perfect defense," Leonard whispered. "Blocks vision for anyone outside the circle, but Roger could see everything inside. It¡¯s no wonder he relied on it." He scanned the next entry, pausing when he saw the word ¡¯Light¡¯. Leonard¡¯s lips twitched in mild amusement. "Light? A glowing spell?" At first, he had assumed it was some kind of combat flash; perhaps a disorienting burst of brilliance. But no. It was far simpler. "It applies a glow to an object, person, or even a body part. Surprisingly versatile¡­ and deceptively annoying, I¡¯d imagine." He moved on to ¡¯Repair¡¯, and here, Leonard stopped. The complexity of the spell stood out immediately. "Eighty-six nodes¡­ that¡¯s the most I¡¯ve ever seen in a zero-level spell," he muttered, frowning. Repairing objects was far more complicated than it seemed; especially if they were delicate or intricate. Yet its utility was undeniable. "A broken tool? Fixed. A cracked vial? Fixed. As long as it¡¯s not alive, you can repair it. Over and over again." The next spell, ¡¯Poison Spray¡¯, was more sinister. Leonard recognized its potential. "A fan-shaped cloud of toxic gas," he murmured, reading the description. "Devastating to ordinary people, but against the extraordinary? It¡¯s like spitting in a dragon¡¯s face." ¡¯Touch of Fatigue¡¯ caught his interest next. This spell conjured a tendril of ¡¯negative energy¡¯ to sap its victim¡¯s strength, filling them with overwhelming tiredness. "A simple spell, but effective against wizards," Leonard mused. "It increases their mental energy consumption, wearing them down faster in prolonged battles. Exhaustion is as dangerous as any blade." The last two spells ¡¯Switch¡¯ and ¡¯Communication¡¯ seemed minor at first glance but were deceptively useful. "Switch unlocks or locks doors. Physical doors, of course, no magic locks, no traps. It¡¯s like a skeleton key in spell form." He smiled faintly. "Roger must¡¯ve used this constantly." ¡¯Communication¡¯, on the other hand, was simple but ingenious. "A voice transmission spell. You can whisper a message straight into someone¡¯s ear, but only for five seconds at a time. A short message can change everything in the right moment." --- Leonard leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. His gaze shifted to the single ¡¯first-level spell¡¯ in the inheritance: ¡¯Fear¡¯. Its description sprawled across the parchment like a spider¡¯s web, intricate and daunting. ¡¯Four hundred nodes.¡¯ Leonard whistled softly. "A monstrosity of a spell. No wonder Roger never managed anything beyond this." Fear was a potent weapon; capable of striking pure terror into the hearts of its target, overwhelming their senses and reducing them to trembling wrecks. But the sheer complexity of its spell structure made it a challenge. "Four hundred nodes¡­" Leonard muttered, shaking his head. "That¡¯ll take months to learn. At least." --- The final spell in Roger¡¯s inheritance was ¡¯Terror¡¯, a group expulsion and control spell. According to the fragmented memories stored in the soul bead, it had the power to strike fear into the hearts of multiple targets simultaneously, scattering them or freezing them in place. A dangerous tool, but its complexity made it clear why Roger had struggled with it. Leonard meticulously organized the spells in his notes, carefully reviewing and memorizing the intricate spell frameworks. Each one had to be committed to memory with precision; every node, every symbol, every pattern. A single mistake could render the spell useless or worse, backfire catastrophically. By the time he finished, two days had passed in a blur of ink-stained fingers and sleepless focus. Leonard sighed, flexing his cramping hand. "If only there were a spell to transfer thoughts directly into words¡­ I wouldn¡¯t have to write all this down by hand." The idea lingered in his mind, and his lips quirked into a faint smile. "If a spell like that doesn¡¯t exist, I¡¯ll make one after I become a proper wizard." He stared at the stacks of notes he¡¯d made, feeling the weight of it all. Roger¡¯s inheritance wasn¡¯t grand, but it was a treasure trove of utility; spells, knowledge, and tools that could make Leonard¡¯s path as a wizard infinitely easier. But there was also a lingering sadness in what he had discovered. Roger had spent his entire life clawing at revenge, achieving nothing but pain and ruin. Leonard exhaled, shutting the book of notes with a quiet snap. "All that obsession¡­ and in the end, he was just a stepping stone for someone else." He stood, his gaze drifting toward the window as the morning sunlight streamed in, illuminating the room. "Well, Roger," he murmured softly, "your mistakes won¡¯t be wasted. I¡¯ll make better use of this knowledge than you ever could." With that, Leonard tucked the notes into his cloak, ready to embark on the next step of his journey. Knowledge, after all, was power. And Leonard had no intention of letting it go to waste. Chapter 55: Brewing Potion! With the inheritance organized, Leonard finally turned to his meditation. The intense mental work over the past two days seemed to have sharpened his focus. As he slipped into the meditative state, he noticed something unusual: his efficiency had increased significantly. Half a day later, Leonard opened his eyes with a small but satisfied smile. Another ¡¯earth ring¡¯ had condensed within his mental framework, and his ¡¯mental power¡¯ had increased by 0.1¡ªa small step, but an important one. --- That evening, Leonard made his way to the port to meet ¡¯Big Gold Tooth¡¯, who handed over the ¡¯fake silver ore¡¯ as promised. The crate was heavy; over ten kilograms of false silver. But Leonard ignored the bag of silver coins that Big Gold Tooth had offered alongside it. "No need for the coins," Leonard said curtly, giving the man a cold look. The last time he¡¯d mentioned silver coins, it had been purely to keep Big Gold Tooth nervous and compliant. "This is enough." Big Gold Tooth nodded quickly, wiping sweat from his forehead as Leonard disappeared into the shadows. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. --- Back in his alchemy laboratory, Leonard¡¯s excitement grew. He set the crate of false silver down and began preparing to brew one of the most valuable potions in his repertoire: the ¡¯Meditation Accelerated Mutation Potion¡¯ an "experience bonus potion" that could drastically speed up his meditation. "This will save me weeks, maybe even months," Leonard muttered to himself as he began organizing the ingredients. --- The laboratory was quiet except for the faint clinking of glass and the rhythmic grind of the mortar. For three hours, Leonard worked with precision, his movements almost mechanical as he prepared the delicate mixture. Finally, he reached the last and most critical step. Holding his breath, Leonard carefully dripped a thin stream of ¡¯pure silver liquid¡¯ into the milky white solvent. The moment the silver touched the surface, it spread and dissolved, blending seamlessly into the solution. A minute passed, and the solvent began to glow faintly. A shimmering ¡¯silver light¡¯ spread across its surface, like a flowing robe of liquid metal. Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed, watching intently. The glow lingered for ¡¯ten seconds¡¯ before fading. Leonard let out a quiet breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Ten seconds¡­ acceptable." The duration of the silver glow, known as the ¡¯Silver Flash¡¯ was a measure of the potion¡¯s quality. Anything over eight seconds was passable. Twenty seconds would have been ideal, but for a first attempt, Leonard was proud of his results. He set the potion aside and began cleaning the laboratory, his movements methodical as he tidied up the tools and wiped down the workstation. Once everything was in order, he leaned back and allowed himself a brief moment of rest. --- Hours later, after replenishing his strength, Leonard retrieved the potion from the shelf. He uncorked the vial and took a cautious sniff. The smell hit him immediately; sharp, pungent, and oddly reminiscent of ¡¯burnt rubber¡¯. Leonard¡¯s nose wrinkled in distaste. "Why does it smell so bad?" he muttered, holding the potion up to the light. Despite the unpleasant odor, the potion¡¯s shimmering consistency reassured him. He had carefully measured every ingredient, every step. There was no reason to doubt its effectiveness. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, Leonard¡¯s expression hardened with resolve. "I know exactly what¡¯s in this. Even if something went wrong, it won¡¯t kill me." With that thought, he tilted the vial back and downed the potion in a single gulp. The taste was as awful as the smell, but Leonard didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it. Almost immediately, a strange sensation washed over him. His body felt light, almost weightless, as if he were floating above the ground. His thoughts spiraled outward, expanding in countless directions like ripples on water. --- When Leonard finally opened his eyes, he was stunned. "It worked," he whispered, amazement lighting up his face. Just the day before, he had condensed an earth ring during meditation, a process that usually required a "buffer period" before another could be formed. Yet now, after using the potion, that buffer had been bypassed entirely. Another earth ring had formed during his meditation, pushing his mental power even further. "This potion¡­" Leonard murmured, staring at the empty vial. "It¡¯s more effective than I thought." The possibilities swirled in his mind. With this potion, his growth as a wizard could accelerate dramatically. Every day of meditation would yield results far beyond what was previously possible. Leonard¡¯s lips curled into a determined smile. "This is only the beginning." With the knowledge he¡¯d gained and the tools he now had, Leonard felt ready to tackle the next stage of his journey. There was still much to learn, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had the momentum to take on whatever lay ahead. "When you arrive at the Wizard Continent this time, remember to contact your great-grandfather¡¯s great-grandfather," the elegant man in the carriage said, his voice calm but commanding. He smoothed the cuff of his luxurious coat as he spoke. "He left for the Wizard Continent long before you were even born. Over the years, we¡¯ve received occasional letters. It¡¯s said that he has become a legendary wizard." The man paused, his sharp gaze locking onto the boy seated across from him. "Listen to your great-grandfather when the time comes. Learn from him. And Hans, strive to make your name stand out among wizards as well." Sitting opposite him was a blond-haired boy, his skin pale and flawless, as though crafted from porcelain. His tailored clothing hinted at wealth and status, each thread carefully selected to reflect his noble upbringing. Hans nodded obediently, though his mind was elsewhere, imagining the grandeur of the Wizard Continent. --- Outside the carriage, several others had stopped in front of the sprawling manor. A group of similarly dressed young nobles, all bearing the same haughty demeanor, stepped down from the carriages, their movements precise and elegant. The group gathered near the steps of the manor, their eyes gleaming with excitement. "The Wizard Continent," one of them murmured, his voice full of longing. Hans stood at the center, his posture confident, his gaze scanning his companions. "Tomorrow," he began, his tone authoritative, "we¡¯ll pay a visit to the local nobility here at Bangor Port." One of the young men frowned. "A visit to the Viscount? This is Bangor Port; a backwater. Why should we, marquises, lower ourselves to call on someone of lesser rank?" Hans shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Rules are rules, even here. The Viscount may be insignificant compared to us, but protocol must be observed. We aren¡¯t just representing ourselves, we represent the Golden Wind family." The others exchanged glances but fell silent, recognizing the truth in his words. --- Later that evening, Hans rode through the dim streets of Bangor Port in a finely crafted carriage. Beside him sat the family¡¯s butler, an older man with a rigid posture and an air of quiet competence. The carriage came to a halt in front of a rundown building. The butler stepped down first and opened the door for Hans, who wrinkled his nose at the decrepit surroundings. "Is this where the wizard connected to our family resides?" Hans asked, his voice tinged with disbelief as he gazed at the dilapidated dungeon before him. "Yes," the butler replied respectfully. "This wizard, Roger, has served as the family¡¯s contact here for some time. I¡¯ve handled most of the communications with him personally." Hans¡¯s expression twisted into a sneer. "A civilian wizard¡­ how fortunate for him that our family even bothered to notice his existence." He stepped out of the carriage, brushing dust from his coat as though it might sully his pristine appearance. The arrogance in his posture was palpable. In Hans¡¯s mind, this "pariah" wizard should be groveling for the opportunity to serve him. "Let¡¯s make this quick," Hans muttered, striding toward the dungeon with the butler following closely behind. --- Hans¡¯s thoughts drifted as they entered the dungeon. He had no real interest in Roger as a person. To Hans, Roger was just another tool, a "follower" to add to his retinue as he journeyed to the Wizard Continent. The Golden Wind family had learned long ago that survival on the ships to the Wizard Continent was far from guaranteed. Accidents, sabotage, and competition between aspiring wizards were common. Even nobles weren¡¯t immune. But having ¡¯disposable allies¡¯ wizards like Roger who could be manipulated, was invaluable. They could absorb the brunt of danger, provide support, or serve as ¡¯cannon fodder¡¯ in the deadly trials that awaited on the island selection process. Hans¡¯s lips curled into a cold smile. His father had taught him well. "Speak to their pride. Feed them scraps of respect, and they¡¯ll worship you like a king." These ignorant, lucky commoners would never know they were being used until it was far too late. --- The dungeon was dark and damp, the air heavy with the stench of decay. Hans¡¯s boots clicked against the stone floor as he and the butler descended the stairs. As they approached the final chamber, the butler slowed, his sharp eyes scanning the open door ahead. A flicker of unease crossed his face. "Something¡¯s not right," the butler said cautiously. Hans frowned. "What do you mean?" The butler didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he stepped ahead of Hans, pushing open the door fully. Inside, the sight that greeted them froze them both in place. The ¡¯stitched monster¡¯ the grotesque creation Roger had been so proud of, lay crumpled on the floor, its bloated body scorched and lifeless. Scattered bones littered the ground, the remnants of Roger¡¯s skeletal frame. The air still carried the faint scent of smoke and burnt flesh. The butler¡¯s face darkened. "He¡¯s dead." Hans stood in stunned silence, his mind racing. The "followers" his family had so carefully prepared for him, the wizard and his monster; were gone. Wiped out before he even had the chance to meet them. The shock quickly turned to anger. Hans¡¯s fists clenched at his sides, and his face twisted in fury. "How dare he?" Hans hissed through gritted teeth. "How dare this ¡¯damned pariah¡¯ die without my permission?" The butler remained silent, but his sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the signs of a battle. Whoever had killed Roger wasn¡¯t just some common thug. There had been precision in the way the stitched monster and Roger were taken down. Hans¡¯s gaze burned as he stared at the remains. He wasn¡¯t just angry at Roger¡¯s death; he was angry at the lost opportunity, the humiliation. "Find out who did this," Hans growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to know who thought they could take what belongs to the Golden Wind family." The butler bowed slightly. "Understood, young master." Hans turned sharply and stalked out of the dungeon, his thoughts churning. The journey to the Wizard Continent was already fraught with uncertainty, and now, one of his key assets was gone. But Hans was not one to back down. "If someone thinks they can get in my way, they¡¯ll regret it," Hans muttered to himself, his eyes flashing with cold determination. "This is only the beginning." Chapter 56: Consulting With Teacher! When spring arrived in Bangor Port, the city transformed almost overnight. The icy winds that had long dominated the coastal air gave way to a gentler warmth. Streets that were once filled with pedestrians bundled in heavy coats now saw people strolling in lighter, more colorful attire. The once-muted city began to hum with life. As the days grew brighter, the port itself grew busier. The imminent arrival of the wizard fleet had drawn nobles from across the kingdom to Bangor Port. These were no ordinary travelers; their entourages, lavish spending, and sheer presence injected new vitality into the local economy. Shops bustled, inns overflowed, and whispers of the wizarding journey filled every corner of the city. For Leonard, however, the excitement outside barely registered. ¡¯One more day,¡¯ he thought, staring at himself in the mirror. His Earth Ring Meditation was at ¡¯99%¡¯, and soon, he would reach a new milestone. But as he stood there, his reflection staring back at him, his thoughts wandered. "This suit looks perfect on you," said Angelina from behind him, her voice soft but filled with pride. Leonard turned slightly, glancing at her through the mirror. Angelina had been sewing him new clothes tirelessly these past few weeks, each one slightly larger than his current size. "You¡¯ll grow into them," she would say with a quiet smile, as though preparing him for a future where he might not return. Leonard nodded, murmuring a quiet thanks. He didn¡¯t bring up his departure again, not after seeing the subdued atmosphere it had created in his family. The sadness lingered in every gesture, every word unspoken, but Leonard didn¡¯t want to add to it. Instead, he let his focus settle on the tasks ahead. --- Leonard¡¯s mind briefly flicked to his progress. "Level 20," he muttered under his breath. Each level before 20 had required only 100 experience points, but now the jump to the next stage required ¡¯1,000 points¡¯ a tenfold increase. It had slowed him significantly, but reaching level 20 had brought immense improvements to his abilities. His physical fitness, mental strength, and meditation aptitude had all seen dramatic boosts. But it wasn¡¯t just his body and mind that had grown, his ¡¯knowledge of mutation studies¡¯ had advanced rapidly as well. "Level 2 mutation studies," Leonard thought with a faint smile. The jump between levels wasn¡¯t just quantitative, it was qualitative. If level 1 was like being an elementary school student, level 2 felt like stepping into graduate studies. Problems that had once seemed insurmountable were now easily unraveled. --- As Leonard reviewed his progress, the details of his abilities scrolled through his mind: --- ¡¯Leonard¡¯ - ¡¯Level:¡¯ 20 (0/1000) - ¡¯Physical fitness:¡¯ 6.97 - ¡¯Mental strength:¡¯ 17.7 ¡¯Mastery:¡¯ - Earth Ring Meditation Method (99%) ¡¯Life Occupations:¡¯ - Level 2 Mutation Studies (7.5%) - Level 1 Hematology (18%) - Level 1 Alchemy (43%) - Level 1 Necromancy (55%) ¡¯General Experience:¡¯ 1970 --- Leonard had also mastered several of the ¡¯zero-ring spells¡¯ from Roger¡¯s inheritance, including ¡¯Dark Energy Ray¡¯, ¡¯Organ Preservation¡¯, ¡¯Dark Light¡¯, ¡¯Light Spell¡¯, ¡¯Repair¡¯, ¡¯Switch¡¯, and ¡¯Communication¡¯. Though many of these spells were low-damage or utility-focused, their usefulness was undeniable. Over the past few months, Leonard had devoured every book in his alchemy laboratory and extracted every scrap of knowledge from the soul bead Roger had left behind. By now, he felt confident that he was on par with many second-level wizard apprentices in terms of knowledge. --- That night, Leonard sat cross-legged in the quiet of his room, his eyes closed in meditation. Slowly, he let his focus drift inward, toward the ninety-nine earth rings that glowed faintly in his mind¡¯s eye. They shimmered like celestial bodies in a vast galaxy of thought and energy. And then, suddenly, something shifted. Outside the glowing rings, a new ring began to form. Golden light coalesced in his sea of consciousness, and runes; delicate, intricate, and ancient, began to carve themselves into existence. The glowing runes swirled together, aligning into a ¡¯chain-like structure¡¯, each node gleaming like a tiny star. Leonard felt a surge of energy as the spell framework completed itself. The knowledge of the spell flowed into him, and a name surfaced in his mind: ¡¯First-Level Spell - Earth Ring.¡¯ The spell¡¯s description unfolded clearly in his thoughts: ¡¯Effect:¡¯ Generates a magical earth ring that imprisons a target unit. The ring applies gravitational force to restrict movement while simultaneously sealing the target¡¯s magical abilities. Leonard opened his eyes, the golden light of the spell still fading from his mind. He raised a hand, and a faint golden glow danced at his fingertips. His expression was calm, but a flicker of pride lit his eyes. "My first first-level spell," he murmured, flexing his fingers as the light faded. "Not bad." Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The ¡¯spell framework¡¯ glided smoothly at Leonard¡¯s fingertips, golden and intricate, like a living chain of light. Despite its movement, Leonard barely felt the drain on his mental power. He had deliberately limited the infusion of energy, using only a fraction of his available strength. "If one unit of standard mental power produces a spell at full power," Leonard mused, "then I¡¯ve only used about one-tenth of that; barely a whisper of energy. And the result? A spell with just one-tenth of its potential strength." He paused, watching the spell weave and pulse before dissipating. "So, the power of a spell is entirely proportional to the mental energy consumed..." It wasn¡¯t the first time Leonard had considered this, but now he was sure. His mastery over this spell felt different; natural, effortless. It was as if the framework itself had become an extension of his mind. "Could it be because I built it step by step during meditation?" Leonard wondered aloud, his brow furrowing. "Because I created it from scratch, it feels¡­ fully integrated. Like it¡¯s mine in a way other spells aren¡¯t." The thought lingered, and Leonard realized he might have stumbled onto something fundamental. Perhaps this was the very essence of meditation: not just strengthening mental power, but fully internalizing a spell¡¯s framework until it became second nature. He stood, reaching for his gray wizard cloak. The material slid over his shoulders, smooth and comforting. Its constant defensive spell wrapped him in an invisible shield of security, making him feel at ease even as he walked the unpredictable streets of Bangor Port. "I should ask the teacher," Leonard decided. "he might have answers." --- Before heading out, Leonard took a moment to test his spell further. With a focused gesture, he unleashed the ¡¯Earth Ring Technique¡¯ at full power. The runes in his mind blazed to life, and the ground beneath David, his towering assistant, shifted and solidified into a glowing, earthen ring. David grunted, struggling against the spell¡¯s effects. The earth ring encased him like a vice, its gravitational pull rooting him in place. Every movement he attempted was sluggish, as though an invisible force was resisting him. "Alright, alright! I can¡¯t move! Let me out!" David complained, his voice tinged with frustration. Leonard chuckled lightly, releasing the spell. David stumbled forward, glaring half-heartedly. "Seems effective enough," Leonard muttered, a faint smile on his lips. "At full power, it consumes ten units of mental power. If I had a magic staff, I could cut that in half, only five units for the same effect." With the test complete, Leonard set out for Alfonso¡¯s residence. The gate to Alfonso¡¯s courtyard stood open, creaking slightly in the cool evening breeze. Leonard stepped inside, noting the warm glow of light spilling from the windows. The old wizard had clearly been expecting him. Pushing open the door, Leonard was greeted by the comforting crackle of a wood fire burning in the hearth. Alfonso sat on a plush sofa, his posture elegant yet relaxed, a thick leather-bound book resting in his lap. "Teacher," Leonard said, bowing respectfully. Alfonso glanced up, his piercing gaze meeting his. "So, you¡¯ve completed the Earth Ring Meditation?" "Yes," Leonard replied. Alfonso¡¯s lips curled into a faint smile. "A bit slower than I expected, but acceptable nonetheless." Leonard hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Teacher, I have some questions." Alfonso closed his book with a soft thud, setting it aside. "Ask." "I successfully meditated on the Earth Ring Method and constructed the spell framework," Leonard began, his tone thoughtful. "But I noticed something¡­ different about it. This spell feels more¡­ intuitive. More seamless than others I¡¯ve learned. Why is that?" Alfonso tilted his head slightly, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "Noticing the difference already? Impressive. You¡¯re ahead of most apprentices." He leaned back, his expression turning reflective. "To understand the difference, you must first know the history of wizard meditation methods." Chapter 57: New Meditation Technique! Leonard straightened, listening intently. "Please explain, Teacher." Alfonso nodded. "Long ago, the meditation methods wizards used were far simpler than what we practice today. Their primary purpose was to strengthen mental power; nothing more. They were straightforward but inefficient. Wizards had to spend countless hours outside of meditation manually constructing the frameworks of their spells. It was a tedious, time-consuming process." His voice grew sharper as he continued. "Eventually, wizards began to see this as a waste of time. Building spell frameworks from scratch was a skill, yes, but one that slowed their progress significantly. They needed a better way; a method that would integrate spell construction directly into their meditative practice." Alfonso gestured toward Leonard. "The meditation method I gave you is one of those improved techniques. It doesn¡¯t just strengthen your mental power; it constructs the spell framework as you meditate. That¡¯s why the Earth Ring Technique feels different to you. It¡¯s not just a spell you learned, it¡¯s a spell you ¡¯built¡¯ as part of yourself." Leonard¡¯s eyes widened slightly as the realization sank in. "So¡­ it¡¯s a more natural connection. A spell created through meditation becomes an extension of the caster." Alfonso nodded. "Precisely. That¡¯s why mastering meditation methods is so vital to a wizard¡¯s progress. Each spell framework you construct through meditation strengthens that bond, making the spell more efficient and intuitive to use." "At first," Alfonso began, his tone measured yet firm, "some wizards believed the new meditation method was a waste of time. Others argued that the spiritual power purified through it was unstable; fragile, even." He leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on Leonard. "But as time went on, the academies conducted experiments. They found that wizard apprentices who used this new meditation method mastered several more key spells in their early development compared to those stuck with the old method. And," he added with a wry smile, "there was no negative impact on their mental strength. Once the results were undeniable, this new meditation method was adopted and widely promoted." Leonard nodded slowly, absorbing his words. The logic seemed sound; if anything, it explained why his mastery of spells felt so fluid. Alfonso¡¯s expression softened. "But there¡¯s more to it than that. The spells conceived through meditation are not only more efficient; they¡¯re far superior in terms of proficiency and control." Leonard tilted his head slightly, his curiosity piqued. "I¡¯ve noticed they feel easier to cast, but¡­ how much of a difference does it really make?" Alfonso chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Do you think magic is truly mastered the moment you construct the spell framework?" Leonard hesitated. "Isn¡¯t it? Constructing the framework means I can cast it, right?" "No," Alfonso said firmly, his tone sharp enough to cut through Leonard¡¯s assumption. "Constructing a spell framework only means you¡¯ve learned ¡¯how¡¯ to cast it. That¡¯s the bare minimum. Real mastery comes from what you do beyond that, your ability to shape the spell to your will." he raised a single hand, his index finger glowing faintly. Suddenly, a small ¡¯ball of light¡¯ appeared at his fingertips. The warm glow illuminated the dim room, its radiance gentle yet steady. "Now watch carefully," Alfonso said. The light began to shift, growing brighter and brighter until it was nearly blinding. Then, slowly, it dimmed, shrinking back down to a faint glimmer. The changes were fluid, seamless, controlled with an elegance that left Leonard momentarily speechless. "The ability to manipulate a spell¡¯s power, to fine-tune it to your needs, is the mark of a skilled wizard," Alfonso explained. "Sometimes, the power of a spell isn¡¯t defined by the spell itself but by how much mental energy you pour into it." Leonard¡¯s eyes widened as the realization hit him. He had always thought spells were rigid constructs, static tools with fixed effects. But this demonstration shattered that belief. Alfonso gave him a small nod of approval. "Your ability to grasp this already places you above many apprentices. And from what I can tell, your mental strength has reached the standard of a second-level wizard apprentice." His words made Leonard blink in surprise. "You¡¯re not far behind the aristocratic apprentices who¡¯ve been exposed to wizardry since childhood," he added. "Your talent is promising, even by the standards of the Wizard Continent." Leonard felt a flicker of pride at the compliment, but before he could speak, Alfonso continued. "There is only half a month left before the fleet arrives at the port," he said. "Use that time to prepare yourself. When the time comes, board the ship and focus on surviving the journey." Leonard frowned slightly, confused. "Half a month? But didn¡¯t they say the fleet wouldn¡¯t arrive for another month and a half? Why is it arriving early?" Alfonso¡¯s lips curled into a mysterious smile. "Let¡¯s just say I have my sources. Trust me, you don¡¯t want to miss it." Before Leonard could press further, Alfonso raised his hand, and the ring on his finger gleamed with a soft light. In an instant, a ¡¯magic book¡¯ materialized in the air, floating gently in his palm. "Since you¡¯ve completed the Earth Ring Meditation, it¡¯s time you advanced further." Alfonso handed the book to him. "This is your next meditation method." Leonard accepted the book with both hands, his eyes drawn to its ornate cover. The title glimmered faintly in golden script: "Hellfire Meditation Method." Alfonso leaned back on the sofa, waving his hand dismissively. "Now go. I have work to do, and you have studying ahead of you." --- Back at home, Leonard placed the book on his desk, staring at it with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The words on the cover gleamed in the flickering light of his oil lamp, almost as if they were alive. When he finally opened it, he was taken aback. The first page wasn¡¯t words, it was a moving image. Leonard¡¯s breath caught as the image came to life. A ¡¯stone giant¡¯ wreathed in emerald-green flames loomed over a fiery wasteland. Its massive body radiated raw power, the flames licking hungrily at the scorched earth around it. As Leonard watched, the image began to shift and distort, the fiery giant dissolving into an intricate ¡¯star map¡¯. Thousands of stars glittered against a black void, their light forming complex, interwoven patterns. Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Leonard¡¯s head throbbed as he tried to take it all in. The sheer intricacy of the star map was overwhelming; each connection, each detail felt vast and incomprehensible. "If this meditation method represents a spell framework," he muttered, rubbing his temples, "then what kind of spell is it? A first-level spell? Or something even more advanced?" Curiosity compelled him to turn the page, but as he tried, the book refused to budge. It was as though the remaining pages were fused together, bound by an unseen force. Leonard frowned, tugging lightly, but no amount of effort could move them. "I can¡¯t see the rest until I start the meditation..." he realized. Closing the book, Leonard leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. The image of the burning giant and the endless star map lingered in his thoughts, filling him with equal parts excitement and trepidation. "Hellfire Meditation," he murmured, staring at the closed book. "Let¡¯s see what secrets you¡¯re hiding." Leonard sat cross-legged on the floor of his alchemy laboratory, the faint glow of candlelight flickering across his focused face. For half a month, he had poured himself into practicing the ¡¯Hellfire Meditation Method¡¯, and the results had been... humbling. The ¡¯difficulty¡¯ of this new meditation method was on an entirely different level compared to the ¡¯Earth Ring Meditation Method¡¯. Where Earth Ring Meditation had felt like constructing a sturdy foundation, Hellfire Meditation was akin to navigating a labyrinth while blindfolded. Each step demanded precision, willpower, and relentless focus. But after weeks of struggle, Leonard finally began to unravel its mysteries. The framework was becoming clearer, its rhythm natural. The once-insurmountable complexity was giving way to understanding. One evening, Leonard turned to the back of the ¡¯Hellfire Meditation book¡¯, eager to see what awaited him. As he read, his expression shifted from intrigue to bewilderment and then to a sharp, exasperated glare. "Damn price!" he cursed, slamming the book shut. "Of course, Alfonso! Of course, you¡¯d conveniently leave that part out!" He now understood why his teacher, who was infamous for emphasizing the ¡¯price of power¡¯, had said nothing about the costs of this meditation method. She had planned for him to discover it himself. --- On one of the final pages of the book, Alfonso¡¯s handwriting appeared, elegant yet mocking: "My dear disciple, Leonard, By the time you¡¯re reading this, I trust you¡¯ve mastered the Hellfire Meditation. Congratulations! And, if you haven¡¯t realized it yet, I¡¯ve already left Bangor Port. I sincerely hope we¡¯ll meet again one day, perhaps under more ¡¯hellish¡¯ circumstances." Leonard¡¯s jaw clenched as he read further: "Let me tell you a little secret about your new meditation method. The ¡¯Hellfire Meditation¡¯ is a core method of the ¡¯Abyss Wizard Academy¡¯. Yes, the academy where I now work. Completing this meditation method will grant you extra points during their admissions process." Leonard¡¯s brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued despite himself. "The Abyss Wizard Academy was established in the ¡¯Sixth Wizard Era¡¯, and it remains one of the most prestigious institutions on the continent. Our motto? ¡¯¡¯Conquest, Invasion, and War.¡¯¡¯ Quite inspiring, isn¡¯t it? The academy has extensive ties to the Abyss Plane, offering practical courses such as ¡¯Joint Invasion Operations¡¯ a unique experience, I assure you." Leonard groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You might wonder if you¡¯re a good fit for such a prestigious academy. Let me assure you: I see potential in you that even you don¡¯t recognize. You have a soul built for conquest, Leonard, and the Abyss Wizard Academy thrives on nurturing such individuals." The tone of the letter shifted slightly as Alfonso¡¯s words grew more playful: "Of course, there are¡­ certain ¡¯¡¯risks¡¯¡¯ to practicing Hellfire Meditation as an unaffiliated wizard. Many academies frown on non-students mastering their proprietary methods. Let¡¯s just say it could get¡­ unpleasant for you if you don¡¯t enroll. But, of course, the choice is yours." Leonard slammed the book shut again, his mind racing. Chapter 58: Abyss Wizard Academy! On one of the final pages of the book, Alfonso¡¯s handwriting appeared, elegant yet mocking: "My dear disciple, Leonard, By the time you¡¯re reading this, I trust you¡¯ve mastered the Hellfire Meditation. Congratulations! And, if you haven¡¯t realized it yet, I¡¯ve already left Bangor Port. I sincerely hope we¡¯ll meet again one day, perhaps under more ¡¯hellish¡¯ circumstances." Leonard¡¯s jaw clenched as he read further: "Let me tell you a little secret about your new meditation method. The ¡¯Hellfire Meditation¡¯ is a core method of the ¡¯Abyss Wizard Academy¡¯. Yes, the academy where I now work. Completing this meditation method will grant you extra points during their admissions process." Leonard¡¯s brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued despite himself. "The Abyss Wizard Academy was established in the ¡¯Sixth Wizard Era¡¯, and it remains one of the most prestigious institutions on the continent. Our motto? ¡¯¡¯Conquest, Invasion, and War.¡¯¡¯ Quite inspiring, isn¡¯t it? The academy has extensive ties to the Abyss Plane, offering practical courses such as ¡¯Joint Invasion Operations¡¯ a unique experience, I assure you." Read exclusive adventures at FreeNovelFire Leonard groaned audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You might wonder if you¡¯re a good fit for such a prestigious academy. Let me assure you: I see potential in you that even you don¡¯t recognize. You have a soul built for conquest, Leonard, and the Abyss Wizard Academy thrives on nurturing such individuals." The tone of the letter shifted slightly as Alfonso¡¯s words grew more playful: "Of course, there are¡­ certain ¡¯¡¯risks¡¯¡¯ to practicing Hellfire Meditation as an unaffiliated wizard. Many academies frown on non-students mastering their proprietary methods. Let¡¯s just say it could get¡­ unpleasant for you if you don¡¯t enroll. But, of course, the choice is yours." Leonard slammed the book shut again, his mind racing. --- The pieces were falling into place. The ¡¯Earth Ring Meditation Method¡¯ was general, simple; a stepping stone. But the ¡¯Hellfire Meditation Method¡¯? It was an ¡¯institutional-level meditation¡¯ meant to align a wizard with the philosophy and practices of the Abyss Wizard Academy. For a moment, Leonard¡¯s expression was unreadable, his thoughts churning. Two paths now lay before him: 1. Continue with the Hellfire Meditation Method, embrace its power, and ¡¯join the Abyss Wizard Academy¡¯. 2. Abandon it, destroy the introductory framework in his mind, and hope to avoid the wrath of the academy. The name ¡¯Abyss Wizard Academy¡¯ carried weight. Everyone who had come in contact with the magic had heard of it, its reputation as a hub for ambitious, ruthless wizards who aligned themselves with the chaotic and power-hungry forces of the Abyss. It was both feared and respected, a place where only the bold dared to tread. Leonard licked his lips, a flicker of excitement dancing in his eyes. "The Abyss¡­ they say it¡¯s where the truly daring carve their paths." He wasn¡¯t naive. The academy wasn¡¯t likely a place of camaraderie or safety. It was a battlefield where only the strongest minds and sharpest wits survived. But Leonard didn¡¯t care about comfort; he cared about progress. The ¡¯truth¡¯ of wizardry. "The academy is just a platform," he muttered to himself, his voice firm. "A tool for my own goals. What matters is my pursuit of the truth. If the Abyss Wizard Academy can help me reach it faster, then so be it." --- The next few days passed quickly as Leonard made final preparations for his departure. For months, he had been discreetly stockpiling supplies, long-lasting ingredients, spices, and tools. He even went so far as to plant ¡¯sweet potatoes and potatoes¡¯ in his alchemy lab, using enchanted soil to ensure their growth. No one knew how long the journey would take, and Leonard refused to rely on the ship¡¯s provisions alone. --- On the night before his departure, Leonard found ¡¯David¡¯ sitting on the rooftop, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. "David, I¡¯m ready to leave," Leonard said, breaking the silence. David turned his scaled head, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "How long will we be gone this time?" Leonard hesitated, his words catching in his throat. "We?" David¡¯s gaze sharpened. Leonard let out a quiet sigh. "You can stay here, David. You don¡¯t have to come with me." The lizardman stood abruptly, his towering frame casting a shadow over Leonard. His voice was filled with disbelief. "You¡¯re leaving me behind? After all this time?" Leonard blinked, startled by the intensity of David¡¯s reaction. "That¡¯s not what I meant," he said softly, his tone steady but apologetic. "Why should I stay?" David¡¯s voice was low but firm, his golden reptilian eyes locking onto Leonard. "What am I supposed to do here, huh? Walk the streets, dressed like this, selling bread? Everyone who sees me thinks I¡¯m a monster. But you don¡¯t." Leonard was silent for a moment, letting David¡¯s words settle. He knew the lizardman¡¯s bitterness ran deep. Only a wizard; the kind who had shaped him into this form, could look beyond his appearance and treat him with dignity. "Where I¡¯m going, things won¡¯t be like they are here in Bangor Port," Leonard finally said, his voice measured. "The place I¡¯m headed is harsher, more brutal. There, we won¡¯t have the luxury of maintaining a detached, safe position. We¡¯ll have to claw our way up from the bottom, and the risks¡­ they¡¯re far greater than anything you¡¯ve faced here. You might even lose your life." David¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver. He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over Leonard. "Then we climb," he said firmly. "It¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t lived at the bottom before." Leonard¡¯s lips twitched into a faint smile. "Alright. If you¡¯re that determined, you can come with me." David relaxed slightly, but his tone turned thoughtful. "Master," he said after a moment, "can I bring someone with me?" Leonard¡¯s eyes narrowed. "This isn¡¯t some kind of game, David. You can¡¯t just bring anyone along for the ride." David¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t falter. "I¡¯ve already asked Beauvoir," he said, the name spoken with quiet certainty. "She said she¡¯s willing to undergo the transformation." Leonard blinked in surprise. "She¡¯s willing?" In this world, few people would willingly undergo the kind of transformation that turned someone into what David was now. The decision required courage, or perhaps desperation. But as Leonard thought about it, he realized Bova¡¯s mindset might not be so surprising after all. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. She had accepted David for who he was; a rarity in itself. If she could do that, perhaps it wasn¡¯t impossible for her to accept transformation as well. Leonard sighed, his tone softening. "If she¡¯s truly willing, it might work. For wizards, there are plenty of ways to elevate an ordinary person beyond their limits." David¡¯s eyes glinted with something like hope. "Fine," Leonard said. "Both of you stay in the alchemy laboratory until we leave." --- Over the next few days, Leonard¡¯s preparations were methodical. He visited the ¡¯new port¡¯ of Bangor daily, pacing along the docks to ensure he didn¡¯t miss the fleet¡¯s arrival. Despite not knowing the ship¡¯s captain or the exact day of departure, he trusted his instincts, when the time came, he would know. And then it happened. --- The first sign was the sudden shift in the weather. A ¡¯dense fog¡¯ rolled in from the sea, shrouding the port in an eerie gray. The once-clear skies turned dark as leaden clouds pressed low overhead. The wind howled through the streets, carrying with it a strange, foreboding chill. Inside their home, Angelina looked out the window, worry etched into her features. "The weather outside is terrible. Has Leonard gone out again?" she asked anxiously at the dinner table. James, her younger son, nodded hesitantly. "He left early this morning," he muttered. Hamilton, sitting silently, glanced toward the window. He had noticed Leonard¡¯s strange behavior over the past few days, the sudden outings, the quiet evenings spent chatting with family. It was as if Leonard were savoring the moments before a departure he hadn¡¯t yet announced. Angelina suddenly stood, grabbing her coat and an umbrella. "I¡¯m going to find him," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. Hamilton stood as well, gently taking the umbrella from her hands. "You don¡¯t need to go alone," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I¡¯ll come with you." As they stepped outside into the thick fog, Hamilton turned to their children. "James, stay here and look after your sister," he said firmly. James opened his mouth to protest but stopped at his father¡¯s stern expression. He sank back into his chair, muttering under his breath as Hamilton and Angelina disappeared into the swirling gray. --- Meanwhile, at the docks, Leonard stood beneath the growing gloom, a newly purchased umbrella in hand. Around him, dozens of ¡¯carriages¡¯ lined the streets, their passengers cloaked in fine robes or heavy traveling gear. Dockworkers moved with urgency, hauling crates and barrels despite the worsening weather. Leonard¡¯s sharp gaze scanned the horizon. And then, through the fog, he saw it. A ¡¯massive ship¡¯ emerged from the haze, its dark hull towering over the dock like a beast from a myth. Its ¡¯figurehead¡¯, shaped like the head of a serpentine monster, gleamed with an almost unnatural green glow. The serpent¡¯s eyes burned with an eerie light, its sharp fangs bared as if daring anyone to challenge its passage. The ship moved with an unsettling grace, its vast bulk gliding to the dock with barely a sound. Leonard watched as a ¡¯ladder¡¯ descended from the side of the vessel, extending to the dock below. From the carriages, finely dressed nobles began to emerge, their expressions a mix of apprehension and determination. Travelers from the port moved cautiously toward the ladder, their eyes drawn to the imposing ship. But as Leonard observed, he realized this was no ordinary boarding process. One man stepped onto the ladder confidently, but before he could take more than a few steps, he let out a bloodcurdling scream. His body stiffened, and he tumbled backward, crashing to the dock below. Leonard¡¯s grip on his umbrella tightened. "It¡¯s not going to be that simple," he murmured to himself. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and placed his foot on the first rung of the ladder. --- The moment his hand touched the railing, a wave of disorienting sensations flooded his mind. Colors swirled before his eyes, bright and chaotic. Voices, some whispering, others screaming; echoed in his ears, drowning out the sound of the port around him. He felt the world shift beneath his feet, as though he were stepping into an entirely different reality. Leonard gritted his teeth, his mind racing to anchor itself. "It¡¯s an illusion," he told himself, forcing his thoughts into focus. "Just a test." The ladder stretched endlessly before him, each step a battle against the onslaught of visions and sounds. But Leonard pressed on, his determination unwavering. Above him, the ship loomed like a shadowed titan, its figurehead seeming to watch him with burning green eyes. And behind him, in the fog-drenched port, his family searched for him, unaware that Leonard was already stepping into a world far beyond anything they could imagine. Chapter 59: Boarding The Ship! "Wake up, Leonard. You¡¯ve been sick for months... When will you wake up?" The voice was faint, soft yet filled with a familiar worry. It was his mother¡¯s voice. "Leonard, have you finished your work? Mr. Clark is asking for the report." A sharper, more impatient tone followed, a voice from his past life, perhaps. "Get up and prepare for the experiment. Who told you it was time to sleep?" Another voice, harsh and commanding, reverberated in his ears. Then came a whisper, cold and sinister, slithering into his mind: "Fear. Let it bloom. What is the deepest fear in your heart?" Leonard froze, listening carefully. He needed to know. He needed to understand what fear truly lay hidden within him. And then, like a flickering flame, it came to him. A doubt gnawed at his resolve: ¡¯What if this is all an illusion? What if this is just a fleeting dream? What if none of this is real?¡¯ The realization made Leonard laugh, a quiet chuckle that grew louder as it echoed in the recesses of his mind. "So that¡¯s it," he murmured to himself. "I don¡¯t fear becoming a wizard. I fear¡­ not becoming one. I fear losing the power I¡¯ve only just begun to grasp. That¡¯s my deepest fear." Placing a steady hand on his chest, he felt the faint rhythm of his heartbeat. "This is real," he told himself. "I am real." The voices in his ears grew louder, merging with the illusionary sights that swirled around him, clawing at his resolve. But Leonard closed his eyes, calmed his mind, and silenced the chaos within. Slowly, the hallucinations faded, the clamor dissipated, and the fog around him began to clear. When he opened his eyes again, the ¡¯deck of the ship¡¯ was just a dozen steps away. Steeling himself, Leonard quickened his pace. His footsteps felt heavy, but his resolve was unshaken. He climbed the remaining steps and stepped onto the deck, his arrival met with a wave of curious gazes. --- Leonard took in his surroundings, lowering his umbrella as the rain drizzled around him. The deck was crowded with young people, many of them finely dressed, accompanied by older servants who lingered at their sides. "So, it¡¯s possible to bring servants to the Wizard Continent," Leonard thought, noting the dynamic. But his observation was quickly interrupted by the weight of ¡¯stares¡¯ some curious, others indifferent, and a few predatory. Certain individuals on the deck studied the newcomers like hunters sizing up prey. Leonard¡¯s sharp eyes caught the expressions, memorizing the faces of those who exuded a sense of quiet menace. "If I¡¯m going to deal with everyone from this port, like I promised my teacher, I¡¯d better start by remembering who they are," Leonard thought grimly. His gaze hardened, and when some of those lingering eyes met his, he responded with a cold, unflinching stare of his own. The intensity of his look made a few glance away, their interest waning. "In an unfamiliar environment, strength isn¡¯t optional, it¡¯s necessary," Leonard thought. "People respect power, or at least the appearance of it." --- After two hours, the ¡¯massive ship¡¯ finally began to move. The sails unfurled with a whisper of magic, and the ladder leading to the dock was retracted. As the ship glided away from Bangor Port, Leonard stood by the railing, his eyes fixed on the receding harbor. In the distance, he spotted a ¡¯carriage arriving at the dock¡¯, the curtains lifting to reveal two hurried figures scrambling out. Leonard watched them for a long time, his emotions unreadable, until the port disappeared completely into the mist. With one hand resting on the ship¡¯s cold edge, Leonard whispered under his breath: "Farewell, Bangor Port." As the ship ventured further into the sea, the fog began to thin, revealing an endless horizon where the water stretched to infinity. --- It wasn¡¯t long before Leonard heard voices. "Newcomers, there are some rules you need to understand." A group of young boys and girls had gathered near the railing, and one of them stepped forward to address the others. His tone carried an air of authority, though not without arrogance. "We¡¯re all headed to the Wizard Continent. Same batch, same ship. We might even end up as classmates. But don¡¯t get any ideas, this place has rules, and they¡¯re not to be broken." Before Leonard could respond, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the air. "Rules? We¡¯re all students here. There are no rules," sneered a young man dressed in an extravagant purple and gold robe. His tone was dripping with disdain as he continued, "Or do you people from other kingdoms think you can lord over us here in the kingdom of Erdoru?" S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Several others around him, likely from the same noble class, chuckled in agreement. Some muttered insults, while others simply sneered, their laughter laced with derision. "What a rude, barbaric little place," someone whispered, loud enough to be heard. The tension on the deck was palpable, and Leonard could feel the eyes of the gathered nobles flicking to him, gauging his reaction. The first speaker, undeterred, responded coldly: "These aren¡¯t ¡¯our¡¯ rules. They were set by Lord Merlin himself. Even the likes of you would do well to obey them." His tone grew sharper. "There are only three rules on this ship. First, you¡¯re not allowed to harm the crew. Second, you¡¯re not allowed to kill people without reason. Third, choose your bed wisely, if you get in Lord Merlin¡¯s way, he may not be in the mood to tolerate you." With that, the speaker turned back to his friends, the conversation dissolving into low murmurs. Yet, their sidelong glances carried an unmistakable air of mockery and challenge. --- Leonard stood quietly, letting their words settle in his mind. "Merlin," he thought, the name ringing familiar. "I¡¯ve heard that name before..." Suddenly, Leonard¡¯s memory clicked, and the name ¡¯Merlin¡¯ came rushing back to him. It was in the diary his teacher, Alfonso, had given him. Merlin was mentioned multiple times, an acquaintance, perhaps even a friend of Alfonso. If his teacher had become a full-fledged wizard, it wasn¡¯t hard to believe that Merlin had followed the same path. Whether this was coincidence or fate, Leonard wasn¡¯t sure, but the thought lingered in his mind as he collected himself. Shaking off the distraction, he stepped into the ¡¯cabin¡¯ to find a place to rest. The voyage was bound to be long, and securing a suitable room was his first priority. --- Leonard pulled a small ¡¯wooden stick¡¯ from his pocket and muttered a simple incantation. A warm glow ignited at its tip, casting soft light over his surroundings. The cabin¡¯s first floor was surprisingly well-furnished. Thick ¡¯red carpets¡¯ stretched across the floor, muffling his footsteps. The walls were adorned with oil-painted murals, their intricate details giving the space an air of sophistication. Yet, despite the lavish touches, every room he passed had its door tightly shut, as if the occupants were guarding their privacy or secrets. Reaching the end of the hallway, Leonard descended a wooden ladder to the ¡¯second floor¡¯. The air here was heavier, tinged with a faint, musty dampness. The walls and floors were bare wood, lacking the refinement of the level above. Instead of murals, every few meters there hung a portrait in a simple frame; each depicting a different figure, their gazes hauntingly lifelike, as if they were watching Leonard¡¯s every move. The atmosphere was colder, quieter. And like the first floor, the doors here were also closed. As Leonard walked further, the silence was broken by a sudden ¡¯creak¡¯. A door just ahead swung open slowly, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness. From within stepped a ¡¯pale, blonde-haired girl¡¯ who looked no older than her mid-teens. Her wary blue eyes locked onto Leonard as if assessing whether he was a threat. She hesitated, hovering in the doorway for a moment before stepping out completely. Leonard didn¡¯t stop. Without a word, he continued walking, sensing her hesitant gaze lingering on his back. After a moment, her light footsteps began to follow him. --- Stay tuned with FreeNovelFire The ¡¯third floor¡¯ was vastly different from the first two. Stepping into the open space, Leonard immediately realized it was a ¡¯dining area¡¯. Unlike the cramped hallways below, this floor was expansive, with tall ceilings that made it feel larger still. Tables were spread across the space, though most were unoccupied. The pale-haired girl¡¯s footsteps slowed as she entered behind him, eventually choosing a seat at a nearby table. Leonard caught the faint ripple of energy in the air as she ¡¯knocked on the table¡¯, a soft vibration that sent a subtle signal through the room. Curious, Leonard turned his head slightly and saw a ¡¯tiny figure¡¯ no taller than a palm; materialize on her table. The little man was dressed in woven clothes, his face sharp and expressive, like a miniature human. --- Leonard approached another empty table and did the same, knocking softly. A similar ¡¯energy fluctuation¡¯ rippled through the air, followed by a faint flash of ¡¯blue light¡¯. Moments later, a second ¡¯miniature man¡¯ appeared on his table. The figure was meticulously detailed, wearing tiny yet elaborate garments and a hat. Its ¡¯Bahof elf¡¯ features were unmistakable; delicate, expressive, and brimming with character. Leonard recalled reading about them in one of Alfonso¡¯s books: a race of elves renowned for their spellcasting and a peculiar passion for cooking. The tiny figure looked up at him and smiled politely. "Good evening, sir. What would you like to eat?" Leonard leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I don¡¯t need food right now. I need information, about the rules on this ship." The Bahof elf hesitated, its expression shifting to mild discomfort. "Ah, rules? You¡¯re not here for food? You do know I¡¯m a chef, not a guide, right?" The elf sighed dramatically before continuing. "Fine, fine, no need to get testy. You¡¯re not the first newcomer to ask. I¡¯ll tell you." Leonard smirked slightly, letting the elf continue. --- The Bahof elf¡¯s tone grew serious as it began to explain. "There are two kinds of rules on this ship. The first set is basic: you must never damage the ship, harm the crew, or interfere with the ship¡¯s voyage. Break these, and you¡¯ll be thrown into the sea without hesitation." Leonard nodded slowly. "And the second?" The elf¡¯s expression darkened. "The second set of rules depends entirely on the mood of the official wizard who oversees this voyage. Every wizard has their own quirks and whims, and you¡¯d do well to stay out of their way." The elf adjusted its tiny hat, its tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I¡¯ve been on this ship for nearly a hundred years, and I¡¯ve seen plenty of wizards. Some hate noise; make a sound above a certain volume, and they¡¯ll toss you overboard. Others are obsessed with cleanliness or demand strange rituals every time we dock. Every journey is different, depending on the wizard¡¯s temperament." Leonard raised an eyebrow. "And what about this journey? What do we know about Lord Merlin?" The elf shrugged. "Not much. Lord Merlin hasn¡¯t left his room since the ship departed. He¡¯s made it clear that no one is to disturb him, so this voyage has been relatively quiet. For now." Leonard¡¯s lips twitched into a faint smile as he thought. "A recluse, like my teacher." Chapter 60: Journey Begins! According to the ¡¯Bahof elf¡¯, there was an unspoken rule aboard the ship: every cabin and sleeping space had to be ¡¯fought for¡¯ by the apprentices themselves. There were no reservations or pre-assigned spots; strength, cunning, and determination dictated where one slept. The only silver lining was that ¡¯food and water¡¯ were freely available. Every apprentice could visit the dining hall at any time, tap on a table, summon a Bahof elf, and place their order. Aside from the Bahof elves, the ship¡¯s staff also included ¡¯ghost sailors¡¯ and ¡¯talking photo frames¡¯ mounted along the corridors; creatures and objects bound by ancient spells to serve the ship and its passengers. --- "How long does it usually take for the ship to reach its destination?" Leonard asked the Bahof elf, who stood perched on his table, its tiny figure animated with energy. The elf tilted its head thoughtfully, scratching its hat with one hand. "About two years," it said. "Every time I travel, the flowers I planted in the kitchen bloom and bear fruit twice, once per year. So two harvests mean two years." Leonard raised an eyebrow. "Two years¡­" That was a long journey. The Bahof elf¡¯s eyes sparkled as it asked cheerfully, "Do you want to eat something? We¡¯re good at making nearly everything!" Leonard shrugged. "What do you have on the menu?" The elf spread its tiny arms dramatically. "Almost anything, sir! But if you have a dish from your hometown, just tell me how it¡¯s made; I love trying new recipes!" Leonard paused, memories of familiar flavors stirring in his mind. "Barbecue," he said after a moment. "Let¡¯s try that." The elf clapped its small hands excitedly. "Barbecue! Excellent choice, sir. How much would you like?" "300 grams should be fine," Leonard replied. The Bahof elf nodded but added with a mischievous grin, "Remember the rules: you can¡¯t waste food. If you don¡¯t finish it, we¡¯ll reheat the leftovers for you next time you visit. And reheated food never tastes as good, does it?" Leonard smirked. "I¡¯ll finish it." With that, the Bahof elf disappeared in a flash of blue light. --- While waiting, Leonard drummed his fingers lightly on the table, thinking. If the ship took ¡¯two years¡¯ to complete a full circuit, including the return trip, then a ¡¯one-way voyage¡¯ must take roughly a year. But the real question was whether this ship was on its outbound journey or already halfway through its return. If there were still two years ahead of him, the journey would be excruciatingly long. Perhaps the nobles who boarded with him knew the ship¡¯s exact schedule, but Leonard doubted they would share such information freely. A sudden ¡¯bang¡¯ and a flash of blue light interrupted his thoughts. The Bahof elf reappeared, balancing a ¡¯large plate¡¯ that looked comically oversized in its tiny hands. "Sir, your barbecue," the elf announced proudly, setting the steaming plate on the table. "Please enjoy!" The elf tipped its little chef¡¯s hat, gave an exaggerated bow, and disappeared once again in a blur of blue light. Leonard took a bite of the food and was immediately impressed. The flavors were rich, perfectly seasoned, and expertly cooked. He now understood why the wizarding texts praised the Bahof elves as ¡¯natural-born chefs¡¯ their skill was unparalleled. --- After finishing his meal, Leonard continued exploring the ship and descended to the ¡¯fourth floor¡¯. Here, the air felt damp and stale, carrying a faint musty smell. The corridor was lined with doors, and one room caught his attention: its ¡¯key¡¯ was still in the lock, suggesting it hadn¡¯t been claimed yet. Leonard turned the key and pushed the door open. Inside, he found a small room with four empty beds. The space felt unused, the faint scent of mildew lingering in the air. "Looks like this room doesn¡¯t see much traffic," Leonard muttered to himself. He shrugged, tossing his belongings onto a bed. "It¡¯ll do." --- That night, the ship was far from quiet. Loud voices echoed through the corridor, mingling with the sound of heated arguments. Leonard ignored the commotion, lying still on his bed with his staff resting by his side. Then came a ¡¯knock at the door¡¯. Leonard cracked one eye open but didn¡¯t move. The knocking continued, louder this time, insistent and grating. With a sigh, Leonard finally rose, grabbed his staff, and walked to the door. He swung it open, his expression cold and unamused. Stay tuned with FreeNovelFire Outside stood a group of young men, their leader dressed in a ¡¯purple and gold robe¡¯, exuding arrogance. Leonard recognized him immediately, he was the noble apprentice who had caused a stir on the deck earlier. Behind him stood several lackeys, one of whom scowled. "Took you long enough," the man growled. "We¡¯ve been knocking forever. What were you doing in there?" The noble in the purple robe stepped forward, his lips curling into a smug smile. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said with exaggerated courtesy. "I am Anusheh Pratt." Leonard didn¡¯t respond, his expression unreadable. The name was familiar. Leonard had overheard it mentioned earlier on the deck, it belonged to a prominent noble family. But Leonard didn¡¯t care for titles or status. What mattered to him was survival, and these self-important nobles clearly saw themselves as predators. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Anusheh¡¯s smile faltered slightly under Leonard¡¯s icy gaze. "Well?" the noble demanded, his tone sharpening. "Are you going to invite us in, or do you plan to stand there glaring all night?" Leonard tightened his grip on his staff, his voice calm but laced with quiet authority. "What do you want?" The air grew tense, the silence heavy as the group exchanged glances. The name ¡¯Pratt¡¯ immediately rang a bell for Leonard. It was the name of the ¡¯royal family¡¯ of the Kingdom of Erdoru. The young man standing in front of him, exuding arrogance and authority, was clearly a member of that lineage, one of the nobles who carried his family¡¯s pride with every step. Anusheh¡¯s voice carried a smooth, almost practiced charm as he spoke. "The top two floors are likely reserved for the wizards who boarded the ship earlier. This floor, however, has been allocated to the apprentices who boarded from Bangor Port. Given that we¡¯re all from the same place, we should be working together, don¡¯t you think?" Leonard listened silently, his sharp gaze fixed on the royal apprentice. "Many of my royal ancestors have joined wizard academies," Anusheh continued, his tone carrying a subtle note of superiority. "Some of them are now fully-fledged wizards. What you might not know, however, is just how difficult it is for ordinary wizard apprentices to become formal wizards in these academies." He paused, as if to let the gravity of his words sink in, then continued, "Becoming a formal wizard requires vast knowledge and rigorous experimentation. Both of these demand significant resources. Ordinary gold and silver? Useless among wizards. The true currency of our world is ¡¯magic stones.¡¯ Without them, progress is impossible." Leonard¡¯s expression didn¡¯t shift, but internally, he was already weighing the implications of the young noble¡¯s words. Anusheh adjusted his robe, clearly relishing his own speech. "That¡¯s why I¡¯ve established the ¡¯Erdoru Wizard Apprentice Mutual Aid Association.¡¯ It¡¯s a place where apprentices like us can share resources, trade knowledge, and even barter for materials. If you¡¯re interested, I invite you to join us. Room 108 on the first floor. You¡¯re welcome anytime." With a practiced smile, he stepped back and added, "Oh, and it¡¯s worth noting; apprentices like us would be wise to form alliances. These academies... they don¡¯t care about you unless you stand out. And standing out is always easier when you¡¯re part of a strong network." As he turned to leave, Leonard called out, "How long do you think this voyage will take?" Anusheh paused mid-step, turning halfway back with a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. "About half a year, give or take." Leonard nodded silently as Anusheh departed, closing the door behind him. --- Inside the quiet room, Leonard sat in thought, his mind turning over the young noble¡¯s words. ¡¯Half a year.¡¯ That was enough time. With steady meditation, Leonard calculated that his ¡¯mental strength¡¯ could reach the standard of a ¡¯third-level wizard apprentice¡¯ by the time they arrived. His current arsenal of spells was already sufficient: ¡¯ten zero-level spells¡¯ and ¡¯one first-level spell.¡¯ But the real issue lay with his ¡¯materials¡¯. The supplies he had prepared before boarding were limited. At most, they would allow him to perform ¡¯ten to twenty experiments¡¯. Once they were gone, his progress in daily tasks and, by extension, his experience; would grind to a halt. Still, there was a solution. ¡¯Mutation experiments¡¯ required specific resources, but ¡¯necromancy experiments¡¯ only needed one thing: a corpse. And corpses, Leonard thought grimly, were far easier to come by than rare magical ingredients. His eyes darkened with resolve. --- The next few days passed quietly. Leonard spent most of his time meditating or working in his room. He ventured out only to eat, tapping on the dining table to summon a Bahof elf for meals. He did take the time to visit the ¡¯Erdoru Wizard Apprentice Mutual Aid Association¡¯ in Room 108. But it only took one visit to confirm what he already suspected. The so-called "mutual aid society" was nothing more than a facade. The other wizard apprentices, mostly nobles or their lackeys, made a show of promises and camaraderie. Some tried to convince Leonard to ¡¯hand over his wizarding inheritance¡¯, while others proposed that he conduct experiments on their behalf. A few even suggested he become a follower of their families, promising that their ancestors, formal wizards; might grant him knowledge in return. Leonard smiled politely but saw through their empty words. "For a clueless civilian wizard, these offers might seem tempting," he thought. "But to me, they¡¯re just childish attempts to take advantage." He never returned to the so-called mutual aid group. --- One night, the ship was quiet, drifting through the ¡¯dark sea¡¯ like a ghost ship. The faint creak of wood and the distant splash of waves were the only sounds. Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, as if it had struck something. The impact sent a shudder through the vessel, and the once-still sea erupted into a chaos of ¡¯wind and waves¡¯. Two wizard apprentices sitting on the deck glanced at each other nervously, their eyes drawn to the eerie ¡¯lights¡¯ glowing on the water¡¯s surface. Before they could react, a ¡¯wave surged upward¡¯, and out of the sea shot a ¡¯black spike¡¯, sharp as a blade. The spike pierced one of the apprentices clean through the chest, blood spraying across the deck. The second apprentice screamed, his voice shattering the tense silence as he scrambled backward, trembling in fear. --- Hidden in his room, the ¡¯alchemy laboratory¡¯ glowed softly with the light of magical reagents. Leonard was hunched over the laboratory table, carefully mixing ingredients for a new experiment. But something unusual drew his attention. To his left, the ¡¯statue of Poseidon¡¯ an artifact sealed by his teacher Alfonso; began to emit faint ¡¯blue bubbles¡¯. The air around it thickened, carrying the unmistakable tang of ¡¯saltwater.¡¯ Leonard straightened, narrowing his eyes as he observed the statue. He placed the reagent in his hand down carefully, his senses on high alert. Something was happening. Whatever it was, it had just disrupted the fragile peace of the ship. Leonard turned toward the door, readying his staff. "It seems the journey is about to get interesting." Chapter 61: Sirens! Leonard stood frozen in place, his eyes locked on the ¡¯Sea god statue¡¯, now radiating a strange and ominous energy. He didn¡¯t dare touch it, not yet. Instead, he maintained a cautious distance, methodically gathering every valuable item from the alchemy lab and storing them in his ¡¯space ring¡¯. A low, guttural murmur echoed from the statue, like a voice speaking in a language both ancient and incomprehensible. Leonard¡¯s grip on his staff tightened, his brow furrowing. Something wasn¡¯t right. The tension snapped like a bowstring when the statue emitted a sudden, ¡¯sharp and piercing sound¡¯, loud enough to make Leonard¡¯s ears ring. He dropped to one knee, hands clamping over his ears as the sound seemed to burrow into his very bones. Experience tales at FreeNovelFire With every ounce of focus he could muster, Leonard lunged forward and shoved the statue into his space ring. The moment it vanished, the sound cut off, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Leonard gasped for breath, his head pounding as he steadied himself. "If it weren¡¯t for the space ring, I¡¯d probably be dead," he muttered, shaking his head to clear it. --- Outside, the once-calm sea had turned chaotic. ¡¯Massive whirlpools¡¯ churned on the surface, dragging the ship into their grip. The vessel shuddered, its forward motion slowed significantly. Standing at the ship¡¯s prow was the ¡¯ghost captain¡¯, a translucent figure glowing faintly blue. His voice boomed across the deck, laced with fury. "This is a wizard¡¯s ship! You damn sirens dare block its path? Have you forgotten the last massacre? Do you want history to repeat itself?" As his words echoed across the waves, a ¡¯green lantern¡¯ at the mast flared to life, casting an eerie glow over the surrounding sea. The noise drew wizard apprentices out from their cabins, their eyes widening at the sight before them. Illuminated by the lantern¡¯s glow, the waters were teeming with ¡¯humanoid creatures¡¯. These beings floated on the surface of the sea, their naked upper bodies gleaming with ¡¯hard, scale-like skin¡¯. Their faces were hauntingly human, save for the ¡¯gills along their necks¡¯ and their ¡¯glowing eyes¡¯, which glared at the ship with unsettling intensity. Long, seaweed-like hair clung to their wet skin, and their hands clutched weapons ¡¯tridents¡¯, ¡¯scimitars¡¯, and other crude armaments. In the distance, ¡¯mermaid-like figures¡¯ rode massive sea beasts, circling the ship like knights preparing for battle. The ship was entirely surrounded, the sirens forming a loose blockade. Yet, despite their numbers, they did not attack. They lingered, their intent unclear. One of the wizard apprentices, a nervous young man, whispered, "Sirens¡­ intelligent creatures from the sea. Why are they blocking our path? Have they gone mad?" Another apprentice, more cynical, sneered. "Mad or not, they just killed Neuris." The group¡¯s eyes shifted to the ¡¯body lying on the deck¡¯, illuminated by the green glow. Neuris, a wizard apprentice from another kingdom, lay sprawled on the wooden planks. His chest bore a massive, gaping wound, his lifeless face still frozen in shock. Blood had soaked his clothes, and seawater dripped from his body, but there was no visible weapon to be found. "Neuris is dead," someone whispered, their voice trembling. "The sirens killed him." The outrage began to boil over. "These sea monsters dare attack wizards?" one apprentice snarled. "Do they have a death wish? I heard wizards slaughtered their kind during the last war, driving them into the deep trenches of the ocean. And now they dare crawl out of their holes to challenge us?" "We should teach them a lesson," another apprentice growled. "Someone needs to inform Master Merlin. He¡¯ll punish these creatures for their insolence." The group nodded in agreement, their voices rising in anger and fear. --- "Quiet." The ghost captain¡¯s command cut through the noise like a blade. His glowing figure loomed over the deck, his expression grim. "I¡¯ve already sent a ghost sailor to inform Lord Merlin," the captain said coldly. "If you value your lives, stay out of the way." Even as he spoke, doubt flickered across his translucent face. ¡¯Why hasn¡¯t Lord Merlin come out yet?¡¯ Just as the thought crossed his mind, a faint, ¡¯rasping cough¡¯ echoed from the cabin. The apprentices fell silent, their gazes snapping toward the sound. A low, ¡¯gloomy voice¡¯ followed. "Someone died." The atmosphere shifted instantly, the oppressive presence of a powerful wizard descending over the deck. From the shadows of the cabin emerged ¡¯Lord Merlin¡¯. --- Merlin was a striking figure, both intimidating and oddly elegant. His ¡¯lavender hair¡¯, streaked with silver, cascaded down his shoulders, and a thick beard framed his face. His hooked nose and thin eyebrows gave him a hawk-like appearance, and his pale violet robes swayed as he moved with deliberate slowness toward the corpse. He stopped beside Neuris¡¯s lifeless body, crouching to examine it. His fingers brushed the edge of the apprentice¡¯s wound, and his lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "The heart was pierced by an ice crystal spear," Merlin murmured, his voice calm and measured. "A clean strike. The water around the wound melted the ice, an impressive hit, I must admit. Clearly the work of a sharpshooter." He rose to his full height, his sharp gaze sweeping across the sea. "No one wants to take credit?" he asked, his tone almost playful. But there was a dangerous edge to his voice, like the calm before a storm. When no reply came, Merlin¡¯s smile widened, though it carried no warmth. "You attack a wizard academy¡¯s ship, yet you don¡¯t have the courage to face the consequences? Very well. Perhaps your sea monster clan in the Heuto Sea needs a little reminder, a massacre, perhaps." His words were laced with venom, and the air around him crackled faintly with magical energy. Suddenly, a voice rang out from the sea. "It was me, great wizard." The sirens began to part, revealing a single figure stepping forward. Leonard, still standing in the shadows near the deck¡¯s edge, narrowed his eyes. The tension in the air was palpable, and he could feel the storm brewing. A strikingly ¡¯beautiful mermaid¡¯ emerged from the sea, mounted on the back of a massive sea beast that swirled beneath the surface. Her shimmering scales glinted in the green lantern light, her long, seaweed-like hair flowing around her sharp, yet alluring face. With an air of authority, she raised her voice, firm but respectful. "We did not realize this was the ship used by the Wizard Academy for recruitment. Our deepest apologies, Your Excellency." Her melodic tone carried across the tense waters as she dipped her head slightly in deference. "We are willing to offer compensation for the offense." The wizard apprentices on the deck whispered nervously, their eyes darting between the formidable mermaid and the silent ¡¯Master Merlin¡¯. The mermaid continued, her voice laced with humility but underpinned by urgency. "The treasure sacred to our tribe was stolen. The thief used magic to escape in this direction, and we believed the culprit to be aboard this ship. That is why we intercepted you. We had no intention of provoking a conflict with wizards." Her words were genuine, but her helpless tone betrayed her frustration. As beings of the sea, the sirens were dominant in their waters, feared by sailors and warriors alike. But in the presence of a wizard, their power meant little. Sirens knew all too well the stories of their kind falling under the wrath of wizards in ages past. She glanced around the deck, her expression guarded. "Had we known this was a Wizard Academy vessel, we would have avoided you at all costs. This¡­ is unfortunate." --- Merlin, standing tall in his flowing lavender robes, remained motionless as he listened. His expression was a blank slate, betraying no emotion. For a moment, there was silence. Then he spoke, his voice calm but cutting, like a blade gliding through water. "You should have been more careful." The mermaid leader winced but held her composure, her eyes flicking anxiously toward the deck of the ship. Merlin turned slightly, gazing at the sirens spread out across the sea. "Your kind has grown arrogant in recent years. Many of your tribes have gained favor with wizards, and in turn, you believe yourselves untouchable. But you forget your place. This ship is not just any vessel, it carries the future students of the Wizard Academy. By obstructing it, you¡¯ve committed a grave offense." He paused, then added coldly: "Take a hundred corpses from your ranks and leave them here. I require fresh materials for my experiments." --- The words sent a ripple of unease through the sirens. Waves rose and crashed as the sea creatures murmured in alarm, their collective distress manifesting in the restless waters. Large sea beasts circled beneath the surface, their backs breaking through the waves like silent predators. The green lantern light reflected in countless glowing siren eyes, dotting the sea like stars in the night sky. For the wizard apprentices on deck, it felt as though the ship were surrounded by a ¡¯legion of sea warriors¡¯, ready to strike at any moment. A sense of foreboding gripped them. "This is madness," one apprentice whispered. "If the ship sinks, we¡¯ll be slaughtered. This is their home turf!" But before the tension could boil over, the ¡¯mermaid leader¡¯ raised her hand, silencing her kin. Her face was calm, but there was a flicker of resignation in her eyes. "Yes, Your Excellency," she said without hesitation. The apprentices stared in disbelief as the mermaid turned to her warriors and barked an order in their native tongue. The sirens obeyed without question, moving swiftly. --- The ¡¯slaughter was swift and brutal¡¯. Strong siren warriors descended upon their own kind, dragging hundreds of their brethren into a deathly embrace. The dark waters turned a sickening shade of blue as siren blood spread across the surface. The sound of piercing cries echoed through the night but were soon silenced. In no time, the bodies of ¡¯a hundred slain sirens¡¯ were hauled to the ship, stacked like offerings on the deck. The mermaid leader watched the scene with an impassive face, though her clenched fists betrayed her inner turmoil. When the task was done, she bowed her head to Merlin. "The bodies are yours, my lord. May this satisfy your request." S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Without another word, she raised her hand, and the surviving sirens began to retreat. One by one, the glowing eyes that dotted the sea vanished beneath the waves. The whirlpools that had held the ship in place dissipated, leaving the water calm once more. The mermaid lingered for only a moment longer before she, too, sank into the sea, disappearing with her kin. --- Merlin stood motionless, staring at the pile of corpses on the deck. He raised his right hand, and a flash of ¡¯silver light¡¯ flickered across his fingers. In the blink of an eye, the bodies vanished, leaving no trace of the massacre. The apprentices on deck exchanged uneasy glances. No one dared to speak until the wizard turned and began walking back toward the cabin. His presence alone seemed to drain the air of life, leaving only cold silence in his wake. Chapter 62: Lab Assistant Recruitment! Far below the surface, the sirens regrouped in the shadows of the deep ocean. One of the warriors, a burly figure with scars running across his scaled chest, spoke with frustration. "Chief, why did we comply? This is our territory. With our numbers, we could have overwhelmed the ship, even if it carried a wizard." The ¡¯mermaid leader¡¯ turned to him, her expression somber but firm. "And what would that achieve? Do you know how our strength compares to what it once was?" The warrior fell silent, but his jaw tightened in defiance. She continued, her voice low but sharp. "At our peak, we ruled these seas. We built an empire beneath the waves, tamed the fiercest beasts, and commanded elite armies. And now? We¡¯re a shadow of what we once were. One wizard could wipe out our entire tribe if they so wished. That ship carries not just a wizard but the future of their kind." Her gaze hardened, her tone turning icy. "If only one apprentice has died, there¡¯s still room for diplomacy. But had we dared to attack that ship outright, they would have returned with their wrath. And when wizards bring their wrath, they leave nothing but devastation in their wake. Do you want our tribe reduced to ¡¯corpses littering the ocean floor?" The warrior clenched his fists but nodded reluctantly. The mermaid leader turned away, her voice softening as she stared into the endless depths of the ocean. "The one who stole our treasure may still be on that ship, but the wizard has chosen to protect them. We have no choice but to let it go, for now." The tribe fell silent, their resentment lingering in the cold waters as they retreated into the depths, knowing they had narrowly avoided a disaster far greater than a lost artifact. As Leonard stepped out of his room and into the bustling cabin, the murmur of conversations filled the air. While he sat down to eat, he caught bits and pieces of chatter from the other wizard apprentices, and it didn¡¯t take long for him to piece together what had happened last night. Apparently, it had been quite the spectacle. Leonard shook his head, feeling a twinge of regret. The ¡¯soundproofing of his alchemy laboratory¡¯ was so effective that he hadn¡¯t heard a single thing. And with all those siren corpses on the deck last night¡­ Leonard clenched his fork. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "If I¡¯d been there, I could have collected at least two of those sirens for experiments. Such prime materials¡­ wasted. What a shame." He leaned back, lost in thought. What made the sirens capable of living and thriving underwater? Was it just the ¡¯gills on their necks¡¯? Or did they possess some kind of magical mutation he could study? The possibilities made his mind buzz with curiosity and envy. --- As he contemplated, a small ¡¯Bahof elf¡¯ floated into the restaurant, carrying a ¡¯tiny trumpet-like device¡¯. With a flick of its wrist, its voice amplified, echoing across the room. "Attention all wizard apprentices! Master Merlin is recruiting a ¡¯laboratory assistant¡¯! Anyone interested in applying can register with Captain Ghost. Master Merlin has specific requirements: applicants must have knowledge of mutation science, be bold yet careful, and willing to clean up after experiments. Registration closes today!" The moment the announcement ended, the restaurant erupted with chatter. "I knew something good like this would happen!" one apprentice exclaimed, nearly knocking over his plate in excitement. "It¡¯s a golden opportunity! Assisting a formal wizard means gaining firsthand experience and with Master Merlin, no less!" Another voice chimed in, speculative. "I wonder why he¡¯s only recruiting an assistant now, when we¡¯re so close to the destination?" "It probably has something to do with the siren corpses he collected yesterday," someone suggested. "With all those materials, who knows how many experiments he¡¯ll be conducting?" Leonard watched the excitement unfold around him. He understood their enthusiasm. Becoming an assistant to a formal wizard was a dream for many. It meant unparalleled exposure to advanced knowledge, experiments, and spells. As a flood of apprentices rushed toward Captain Ghost¡¯s office, Leonard stayed seated, calmly finishing his meal. "Why rush?" he thought, cutting into the last piece of meat on his plate. "The deadline¡¯s at the end of the day. Better to avoid the crowd and conserve my energy." After finishing his meal, Leonard finally stood and made his way to the ¡¯captain¡¯s room¡¯. --- When he arrived, Leonard found the ¡¯narrow corridor outside the captain¡¯s quarters completely packed¡¯. A sea of apprentices crowded the space, shoulder to shoulder. Leonard sighed and leaned against the wall, observing the scene. Time ticked by, but the line barely moved. His patience wore thin, and he began to study the situation more closely. Toward the front of the line, a group of apprentices stood near the door, blocking it entirely. They didn¡¯t seem to be entering or leaving; instead, they just ¡¯stood there¡¯, taking up space. Leonard narrowed his eyes. It didn¡¯t take long for him to figure out their intent. "They¡¯re deliberately blocking the registration area," he realized. "If no one else can register, then only those who are already in line, or in their circle, can compete for the position." A wave of annoyance rolled over him. This was no accident, it was a calculated move. Leonard¡¯s gaze swept over the group, their smug postures and subtle grins betraying their confidence in this tactic. "Clever," Leonard thought, his lips curving into a faint smirk. "But not clever enough." --- He adjusted his staff in his hand and began walking forward. "Make way." His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable authority. The apprentices crowding the corridor turned to look at him, confusion flashing across their faces. A few made no effort to move, standing their ground as if daring him to push through. Leonard didn¡¯t hesitate. He reached out, ¡¯gripping the shoulders of the nearest person¡¯ and gently; but firmly, pushed them aside. Despite his measured movements, the sheer force behind his hands was enough to send the apprentice stumbling to the edge of the corridor. "Hey! What the¡ª!" one of them protested, but Leonard didn¡¯t even glance their way. Step by step, he advanced, calmly shoving people to the side. The narrow corridor began to clear as apprentices instinctively moved out of his path, some grumbling under their breath, others too stunned to speak. By the time Leonard reached the group blocking the door, the mood had shifted. The air felt heavier, the murmurs dying down. The smug apprentices at the front turned to face him, their confidence faltering slightly under his icy gaze. One of them, a tall apprentice with an arrogant smirk, stepped forward. "What do you think you¡¯re doing? We¡¯re first in line. If you want to register, you can wait like everyone else¡ª" Leonard cut him off with a sharp look. "You¡¯re not in line," he said coldly. "You¡¯re just blocking the door." The apprentice hesitated, momentarily thrown off by Leonard¡¯s blunt tone. But then he puffed out his chest, trying to reassert his dominance. "Listen, pal, this is how things work here. If you don¡¯t like it, you can¡ª" Before he could finish, Leonard stepped forward, his presence alone enough to make the group shift nervously. He leaned in slightly, his voice low and sharp. "Move. Now." The tension in the air was palpable. The group exchanged uncertain glances before finally stepping aside, muttering under their breath. Leonard ignored them and pushed open the door to the ¡¯captain¡¯s room¡¯. --- Inside, Captain Ghost sat behind his desk, his translucent form glowing faintly in the dim light. The ghostly figure raised a curious eyebrow at Leonard but said nothing as he approached. "I¡¯m here to register for the assistant position," Leonard said simply. The captain nodded, gesturing to a parchment on the desk. Leonard signed his name with steady hands, his expression calm. As he stepped back out into the corridor, he noticed the group still lingering nearby, their eyes glaring daggers at him. Leonard met their stares head-on, his own gaze cold and unflinching. "If you want something, fight for it," he said quietly, his tone laced with warning. "But don¡¯t waste my time with childish games." Without waiting for a response, he walked away, leaving the corridor silent in his wake. As Leonard walked away, his calm demeanor only seemed to inflame the frustration of those still lingering outside the captain¡¯s room. "What is that guy, an orc? How can he be so strong?" someone muttered under their breath, clearly irritated after being shoved aside. Another apprentice sneered. "Too crude. Absolutely no noble manners at all." "He¡¯s not a noble," someone else chimed in. "I heard from the Bangor Port group that he¡¯s just a commoner." "A ¡¯commoner?¡¯" The word was practically spat out, dripping with contempt. "Hey, kid!" a wizard apprentice called out behind Leonard, his voice laced with arrogance. "Think carefully before you sign up. This isn¡¯t a game for someone like you. You¡¯re way out of your league." Leonard stopped mid-step and turned slowly, an expression of feigned confusion on his face. "I thought Master Merlin was the one recruiting. Did he mention a rule that commoners weren¡¯t allowed? If he didn¡¯t, why can¡¯t I participate?" The group laughed mockingly. "Hah! You¡¯re bold, I¡¯ll give you that," another apprentice said, his voice dripping with disdain. "We¡¯re cautious about signing up, and yet you, a nobody think you¡¯ll be fine? You¡¯re just a commoner wizard looking to leech off someone else¡¯s success." Leonard gave them an indifferent glance and turned to walk toward the captain¡¯s door. The derision in their voices sharpened. One apprentice, his face twisted in anger, suddenly pulled out a staff from his robe and pointed it at Leonard. "Let¡¯s see how cocky you are when I¡ª" He didn¡¯t get to finish. Leonard spun on his heel, his movements fluid and faster than the apprentice could react. Before a single syllable of the spell could escape the man¡¯s mouth, Leonard grabbed the staff with one hand and drove his elbow into the apprentice¡¯s face with a sickening crack. "Ahhh!" The apprentice stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood gushed down his face. His staff slipped from his hand, and he dropped to his knees with a muffled cry. Leonard glanced at the staff in his hand and pocketed it without hesitation. "Don¡¯t ever point a staff at me," he said coldly, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air. His eyes, steely and unyielding, swept over the group. For a moment, the corridor was silent, save for the whimpering of the injured apprentice. The remaining apprentices exchanged uneasy glances. None of them dared to move. Stay connected with FreeNovelFire What they didn¡¯t know was that Leonard was holding back. If not for the ship¡¯s strict prohibition against killing, he wouldn¡¯t have stopped at breaking the apprentice¡¯s nose. "Three steps." The thought crossed Leonard¡¯s mind as he assessed the crowd. His mental and physical capabilities, enhanced by his wizard training, made him a force to be reckoned with. Within three steps, his spells were faster than any apprentice could chant. Within arm¡¯s reach, his strength, six times that of an average human, made him a lethal opponent. Without another word, Leonard turned on his heel and entered the captain¡¯s room, leaving the stunned crowd behind. Chapter 63 63: Being Merlins Assistant! Inside, the ghost captain''s quarters were modest. An ''oil portrait'' of a ship at sea hung on one wall, and a large window overlooked the endless ocean. The ghost captain himself sat by the window, his translucent form glowing faintly as he gazed out at the waves with an air of melancholy. Hearing Leonard enter, the captain turned slowly, his expression neutral. "I''m here to sign up," Leonard said simply. The captain nodded and opened a drawer, pulling out a rolled piece of ''parchment'' and a ''feathered pen''. He placed them on the table. "This is Master Merlin''s test paper. Answer the questions, and I''ll take them to him for evaluation." Leonard sat down, unrolling the parchment. Under the warm light of the kerosene lamp, he scanned the questions. The content was straightforward, basic knowledge of mutation science, foundational spell theory, and some general problem-solving scenarios. Simpler than Leonard had expected. He quickly scribbled down his answers, his hand steady and efficient. When he was finished, he slid the parchment back across the table and stood up. The ghost captain glanced at him, mildly impressed. "You''re quick," he remarked. Then, holding the parchment, the captain''s figure shimmered and faded into thin air. "I''ll deliver this to Master Merlin." --- Leonard waited in silence, glancing briefly at the oil portrait as the ghostly figure passed through the wall. Moments later, the captain reappeared, stepping out of the shadows as if the walls themselves had spit him out. "Master Merlin has reviewed your answers," the captain said, his tone even. "He''s approved you. Report to Room 101 tomorrow morning to begin your duties." Leonard nodded, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Without another word, he left the room, his steps measured and calm. --- Back in the corridor, the apprentices who had mocked him earlier stared as he emerged. Their eyes followed him, a mix of resentment, disbelief, and unease. The captain paused for a moment, turning his head slightly to glance at them over his shoulder. "You don''t get anywhere by standing in the way of others," he said coolly. "If you want something, work for it. Otherwise, step aside." With that, he walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall as the group stood frozen in place. For the first time, they saw him not as a commoner but as a real competitor. Leonard gave Captain Ghost a quick nod of gratitude. The questions on the parchment weren''t particularly challenging, so he wasn''t surprised by his acceptance. As he stepped out of the captain''s room, he found himself surrounded by a cluster of wizard apprentices. Their expressions were anything but friendly. One of them, a tall apprentice with sharp features and an air of entitlement, stepped forward and blocked Leonard''s path. His voice was laced with menace. "Who gave you permission to answer the questions?" he sneered. "You''d better pray you fail. If you actually pass, your days on this ship will become a living nightmare." Leonard paused, looking the apprentice up and down as if he were a particularly boring insect. He couldn''t help but wonder if noble wizard apprentices were born with a defect in their thinking or if years of pampered living had simply made their brains rot. ''How could people this arrogant and short-sighted be considered the future of wizardry?'' He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "If you have a problem with my answers, why don''t you take it up with Wizard Merlin himself? I''m sure he''d love to hear your opinion." The apprentice''s face turned red, but before he could retort, Leonard simply pushed past him, his strength sending the others in the narrow corridor stumbling to the side like scattered leaves. He didn''t bother to look back. --- Once back in his room, Leonard sat on the edge of his bed, his thoughts churning. Something about the test questions had been nagging at him. The phrasing, the structure, it all felt oddly familiar, like d¨¦j¨¤ vu. Frowning, he pulled a notebook from his space ring and flipped through its pages. His teacher, Alfonso, had given him this notebook along with a treasure trove of knowledge. As he scanned the notebook, Leonard''s eyes widened slightly. ''There it was.'' Many of the test questions on Wizard Merlin''s parchment were eerily similar to the notes in Alfonso''s book. "So that''s why it felt so familiar," he murmured to himself. The realization deepened his suspicion. Was it possible that Wizard Merlin and his teacher, Alfonso, knew each other? It would explain a lot. His teacher''s precise knowledge of the ship''s arrival time, for one. But if there was some connection, why hadn''t Alfonso mentioned it? Leonard leaned back in his chair, pondering the possibilities. "Until I know more, I shouldn''t assume too much. If I approach Wizard Merlin the wrong way, I could end up making things worse." --- The next morning, Leonard made his way to Wizard Merlin''s room. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. As he approached, he noticed a small group of wizard apprentices gathered outside the door. Their eyes turned toward him as he drew closer, a mixture of curiosity and subtle hostility flickering across their faces. One of them, a red-haired man with a sly, calculating smile, stepped forward. He extended a hand toward Leonard. "So, you''re the one who got the position as Lord Merlin''s assistant," he said smoothly. "Congratulations. My name is Bim Buxton. You can call me Bim. You must have an impressive knowledge of mutation science. I hope we''ll have the chance to exchange ideas sometime." Leonard studied the man for a moment, then reached out and shook his hand. "I''m Leonard. It''s good to meet you." The handshake was brief, but Leonard remained cautious. There was something about Bim''s overly friendly demeanor that made him wary. Nearby, several other apprentices introduced themselves, including a familiar face: ''Anusheh Pratt'', the arrogant noble who had tried to block Leonard from registering the day before. Anusheh''s tone, however, was surprisingly neutral this time. He offered a polite smile and said, "It seems you''ve caught Lord Merlin''s attention. That''s no small feat. I look forward to seeing what you accomplish. Perhaps we''ll even find opportunities to collaborate in the future." Leonard returned the smile, though his eyes remained sharp. "Collaboration sounds promising. Let''s keep the door open for opportunities." After a few more formalities, Leonard excused himself and knocked on Wizard Merlin''s door. --- The door creaked open, and a deep, authoritative voice called from within. "Enter." Leonard stepped inside, immediately struck by the sheer size of the room. The space was ''immense'', far larger than his own quarters, clearly the result of some spatial expansion spell. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, and the dim light from glowing orbs on the walls cast eerie shadows across the room. At the center of the chamber, an ''elaborate formation'' was drawn on the floor, its intricate lines glowing faintly blue. The material used for the formation was unmistakable: ''siren blood.'' The corpses of sirens lay scattered across the floor, positioned in deliberate arrangements that resembled the spokes of a wheel. Together, they formed what looked like a ''doorway'', their lifeless forms eerily posed to channel some kind of energy. Wizard Merlin stood at the center of it all, his lavender hair catching the faint glow of the formation. He didn''t look up as Leonard entered, his focus entirely on the glowing sigils beneath his feet. "You''re here," Merlin said, his voice calm but commanding. "Good. You''ll assist me with the preparation of this ritual. Watch carefully, and don''t make mistakes." Leonard nodded, stepping forward cautiously. His eyes scanned the scene, his mind already racing to decipher the purpose of the formation and the spell Merlin was preparing to cast. Whatever it was, one thing was certain: he was about to witness magic far beyond anything he''d ever encountered before. "Have you ever heard of sacrifice?" came the soft, almost silken voice of the man standing before Leonard. His back was turned, but Leonard was certain, this was Wizard Merlin. This was Leonard''s first time seeing the man up close. Merlin was striking, with ''lavender curls cascading down his shoulders'', an ornate magic robe tailored to perfection, and a pale, almost sickly complexion. His features were sharp and cold: a hooked nose, thin lips, and eyes that seemed to pierce through even when they weren''t looking directly at you. "I''ve heard of it," Leonard replied calmly. Sacrifice was not an unfamiliar concept to him. He recalled the books he had studied: sacrifice was essentially a ritual where offerings were made to powerful beings through ''specific magical arrays''. In return, the sacrificer could receive blessings, power, or material gifts. In some worlds, these rituals were referred to as ''worship or offerings''. The beings who received sacrifices were usually immensely powerful entities, though exceptions existed. The offerings themselves varied depending on the preferences of the recipient: ''souls, flesh, blood, faith'', and even intangible concepts like loyalty. Chapter 64 64: Sacrifice! Sacrifices were typically categorized into two types: - ''Random sacrifices'' were akin to casting a fishing net into the vast multidimensional planes, hoping to catch the attention of a powerful being or race. It was unpredictable and risky, with a high chance of failure, but some wizards found this thrilling. - ''Specific sacrifices'' were directed toward a known being. These rituals, if performed correctly, rarely failed. However, they were more demanding, requiring offerings that perfectly suited the target''s desires. A mismatched or unsatisfactory offering could result in¡­ dire consequences. Leonard shared his understanding of sacrifices with Merlin. The wizard let out a soft, almost amused chuckle. "A very standard textbook explanation," he said, his voice carrying an unsettling, feminine quality. "You''re well-read for someone so young." Merlin gestured toward the ritual array etched onto the floor with sharp, fluid lines. "This here is a sacrifice. The target of this particular one¡­" He paused for effect, turning slightly so Leonard caught a glimpse of his calculating gaze. "...is a devil." Merlin motioned for Leonard to come closer, and the younger wizard obliged, stepping forward to stand behind him. "Sirens," Merlin began, nodding toward the charred bodies arranged meticulously within the glowing formation, "are a mostly worthless experimental material. They''ve been studied exhaustively. Did you know they were created by the sea god?" Leonard''s eyebrows rose slightly. This was new information. "Yes," Merlin continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "The sea god crafted them, granting them a form of intelligence. Beings like these, forged by divine hands, have souls that demons find particularly appealing." The faint scent of blood and sulfur lingered in the air, making Leonard''s nose twitch. The array before them glowed faintly, pulsating like a living thing. Then, without looking at him, Merlin said something that made Leonard''s stomach tighten: "Are you practicing the Hellfire Meditation Method?" Leonard hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Yes." He couldn''t help but wonder how Merlin had noticed. Was there something distinct about the Hellfire Meditation Method that gave him away? Merlin smiled, though the expression did little to comfort Leonard. It was the kind of smile that hinted at knowledge best kept hidden. "I thought so. Practicing that method gives off¡­ a certain aura. And you''re in luck, we share a connection. I''m a teacher at the Abyss Wizard Academy." The words sent a shock through Leonard. ''Merlin was from the same academy as his teacher, Alfonso?'' It seemed too coincidental. Leonard''s thoughts raced. Was Merlin connected to his teacher? Had Alfonso known this and deliberately sent him to this ship? Merlin didn''t seem inclined to elaborate, though, as he smoothly shifted the conversation back to the ritual. "You''re fortunate to have the Hellfire Meditation Method," Merlin said with an air of finality. "But enough about that. Pay attention. This is an excellent opportunity for you to witness a proper sacrifice." --- Merlin began chanting softly, his voice weaving through an ancient, guttural language. The array responded immediately, its lines flaring to life with a ''vivid purple glow'' that pulsed like a heartbeat. The light grew brighter, tinged with crimson as the scent of sulfur thickened, mingling with the sharp metallic tang of blood. Leonard watched as the ''bodies of the sirens'', arranged in a fixed posture within the array, began to blacken and burn. Flesh cracked and sizzled, and their forms slowly melded together, twisting unnaturally into a ''charred black gateway''. At the center of the gateway, a swirling ''red vortex'' appeared, its edges crackling with dark energy. The air around it distorted, rippling like heatwaves. Leonard felt a wave of oppressive energy roll over him. His breathing quickened, but he steadied himself, refusing to show weakness. From the vortex, a shadow began to take form. It grew larger, towering higher with each passing second, until finally, the figure stepped through. --- The creature was ''nearly three meters tall'', with a monstrous, nightmarish form. Its six muscular arms flexed as it emerged, each one tipped with claws that gleamed like polished obsidian. Its skin was a deep crimson, etched with glowing black runes that seemed to pulsate in rhythm with the array. Its face was a grotesque blend of human and beast, with burning orange eyes that radiated malice. Leonard couldn''t help but marvel at the sheer presence of the being. ''This was a devil, an apex predator of the lower planes, brimming with raw power and unrestrained tyranny.'' The devil''s gaze swept the room, finally settling on Merlin. It grinned, revealing rows of sharp, jagged teeth. "You summoned me, wizard," it rumbled, its voice deep and guttural, sending vibrations through the very air. "What is it you seek?" Merlin remained unfazed, meeting the devil''s gaze with a calm, almost casual confidence. "I have a task for you," he said smoothly. "But first, let''s discuss your payment." Leonard stood silently, absorbing every detail. This was his first time witnessing a sacrifice of this scale. The raw power of the devil, the precision of Merlin''s ritual, the ominous energy that hung in the air, it was both terrifying and exhilarating. And he couldn''t help but think: ''Someday, I''ll master magic like this.'' The demon that emerged from the ritual was striking, a terrifying and alien creature with the upper body of a woman and the lower body of a snake. Her ''six muscular arms'' glistened under the flickering light of the room, and her ''red scales'', laced with razor-sharp barbs, caught the light as though polished with blood. Her ''pointed ears twitched'', and her ''serpentine eyes'', a pair of glowing dark-yellow pupils, shimmered like twin lanterns of malice. The moment Leonard locked eyes with her, a suffocating darkness seemed to envelop his vision. Her presence radiated a pure, primal evil ''an aura so thick it felt like it could crush his soul''. Before Leonard could even think, a wave of ''violent, murderous intent'' surged through the room like a crashing tide, nearly driving him to his knees. This was no ordinary demon, this was an ''adult six-armed snake demon''. Leonard''s face paled, and his body instinctively moved. Without a second thought, he stepped back, using Wizard Merlin as a living shield. He didn''t dare make a sound. He knew the reputation of abyss demons all too well. They were not just strong, they were ''nightmarishly powerful'', their combat ability unmatched among beings of similar levels. Abyss demons were born and bred in war, honed by endless battles in their violent and chaotic realm. For ordinary adventurers or professionals, taking down an experienced abyss demon required ''a full, coordinated team'', often bolstered with the best spells, equipment, and strategy available. To make things worse, many high-level demons could summon ''lesser demons'' as reinforcements. What might seem like a one-on-one fight could quickly turn into an overwhelming massacre. And the six-armed snake demon wasn''t just a high-level demon, it was a ''masterpiece of the Abyss'', one of the deadliest among its kind. The demon surveyed the room with a cold gaze, her bloody tongue flicking out as she sized up her summoner. Her expression shifted into one of contempt as her eyes landed on Merlin. "So... it''s a wizard who''s called me," she hissed, her voice slithering like a blade against glass. Merlin''s expression remained calm, unbothered by her insolence. His lavender hair gleamed faintly in the light as he spoke evenly. "I summoned you for a task," he said, his voice cool and commanding. "What I need is a demon skilled in tracking and assassination. Do you fit the bill?" The snake demon''s lips curled into a jagged, cruel smile. "Oh, I am more than qualified," she said. Her voice was like venom, sweet and deadly. As Leonard watched, her figure began to dissolve into the shadows. Her snake-like body melted seamlessly into the room''s dark corners, leaving only faint traces of her presence. Merlin nodded in approval. "A six-armed snake demon with shadow-lurking abilities, rare indeed." With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a ''silver dagger'' from his ring. Its blade gleamed ominously, faint runes carved into its surface glowing faintly. "There is another wizard aboard this ship," Merlin said, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Your task is to assassinate him. You don''t need to kill him outright, just a single wound from this dagger will suffice." From the shadows, one of the snake demon''s arms reached out and effortlessly took the dagger. Her figure reemerged briefly, a smug grin stretching across her face, before she vanished again into the darkness. Leonard felt a cold sweat trickle down his back. ''He had just overheard something he definitely shouldn''t have.'' The fact that Merlin trusted him enough to be in the room during such a sensitive moment was both reassuring and deeply unsettling. Leonard couldn''t help but worry if Merlin might decide to ''silence him'' once the task was complete. As if sensing his unease, Merlin turned to Leonard with a faint smile. "Do not concern yourself with matters beyond your station," he said smoothly. "This is the power of our Abyss Wizard Academy. Unlike others, we don''t fear summoning demons, nor do we worry about their retaliation. We recruit them, we trade with them, and we command them. It''s our unique strength." Leonard nodded stiffly, unsure how to respond. Merlin gestured toward the cluttered ''lab table'' at the side of the room. "Your task for now is simple: clean up the lab. I have other matters to attend to, but as long as you stay in this room, you''ll be safe. No harm will come to you." With that, Merlin left the room, his robes swishing softly as he disappeared into the hallway. --- Leonard glanced around the spacious chamber. The lingering aura of the ritual still hung heavily in the air, making the hairs on his neck stand on end. Merlin''s attitude toward him had been surprisingly cordial, almost too friendly. It made Leonard uneasy. What did Merlin know, or suspect, about him? Did it have anything to do with the Hellfire Meditation Method? Shaking off his thoughts, Leonard turned his attention to the lab table. It was covered in a chaotic assortment of materials; vials of blood, strange herbs, shards of bone, and items he couldn''t even identify. As he cleaned, he couldn''t shake the nagging sense of familiarity. The arrangement of tools, the patterns on the table¡­ it all felt ''eerily similar'' to something he had seen before. Once the table was spotless, Leonard found himself staring at the ''demon summoning array'' that dominated the room. Its intricate lines and symbols glowed faintly with residual energy, pulsing faintly like a dying heartbeat. Curiosity gnawed at him. He knew he shouldn''t tamper with it, summoning demons was no trivial matter; but the array was a masterpiece of magical engineering. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "Just a look," Leonard muttered to himself. "No touching. Just study the design." Cautiously, he stepped closer, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of the formation. The more he studied it, the more he felt drawn into its complexity. Each symbol seemed to hum with hidden meaning, each line a thread in a vast, unknowable tapestry. This wasn''t just a summoning array, it was a work of art, an expression of Merlin''s mastery. Leonard''s fingers itched. ''What would it take to recreate something like this?'' Chapter 65 65: Demons Temptation! Leonard stepped cautiously toward the demon sacrificial magic circle, his hands tucked into his robe, fingers brushing against the hidden charms sewn into the fabric. His gaze roamed over the intricate patterns scrawled across the ground; twisting, interlocking symbols that pulsed faintly with an eerie energy. At the center stood a towering black statue, once a doorway but now transformed into something far more ominous. He studied the scene intently, committing every detail to memory. He had no idea which markings held true significance, which ones acted as anchors, and which were mere embellishments. So he made the safest choice; remember everything. Then, without warning, a voice curled around him like smoke, low and smooth, both hoarse and strangely alluring. "Ah, my dear child, what are you looking at?" Leonard froze. The voice was too close, almost inside his ear. Yet when he turned, there was no one there. His pulse quickened, but he forced himself to remain still, redirecting his attention to the magic circle. "Clever little wizard, I think you already know who I am." The voice slithered through the air again, rich with amusement. A twitch formed at the corner of Leonard''s eye. Oh, he had a good guess. With a demonic sacrificial array still active in front of him, there weren''t many possibilities. It could only be one thing, a demon. A real one. He clenched his jaw. "Sorry, but I''d rather not find out." Without hesitation, he took a step back. Anyone with half a brain knew the dangers of engaging with a demon. A conversation could start innocently enough, but before you knew it, you were bound by a pact, ensnared in contracts written in blood. Even words could be laced with bewitchment spells, fall into the rhythm of their speech, and you might find your will no longer your own. And to make matters worse, this sacrificial magic circle was still active. Leonard gritted his teeth. Damn that fool, Wizard Merlin. Leaving an open demon summoning magic circle unattended, who does that? What kind of academy let its students wander into something like this without warning? What about safety precautions? Protection spells? Maybe a sign that said, Warning: Open Gate to the Abyss¡ªApproach at Your Own Risk? Clearly, none of that mattered to Merlin. Leonard made a decision: ignore the voice. No matter what the demon said, he wouldn''t respond. If he didn''t engage, he wouldn''t get dragged into anything. He wasn''t even officially enrolled in the Abyss Wizard Academy yet, so whatever pacts they had with demonic entities were none of his concern. "I mean you no harm." The voice chuckled, deep and velvety. "I merely sensed a fresh, intriguing soul and thought I''d strike up a conversation." Leonard exhaled sharply through his nose. Thanks for the review. Fresh and intriguing, am I? The demon continued, undeterred. "I sense the Hellfire Meditation technique within you. That makes us rather compatible. Perhaps, in the future, we could become partners. Don''t worry, I have no ill intent." Leonard finally allowed himself to speak, his voice dry. "That would be¡­ preferable." The demon hummed. "But I believe there''s potential for a more fruitful arrangement between us. What do you think?" Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "I think I have nothing to discuss with you," Leonard answered flatly. A long sigh followed, as if the demon found this exchange deeply exasperating. "You know, the Abyss is vast, teeming with all manner of demons. But only a few of us ever have the opportunity to form contracts with wizards." Leonard stayed silent, listening despite himself. "For one, most of my kin aren''t particularly bright," the demon admitted with a hint of condescension. "They only understand brute force, destruction, and bloodshed. But that''s hardly useful, is it?" Leonard arched a brow. Was the demon¡­ complaining? "On the other hand," the voice continued, "there are too many demons and far too few wizards willing to make a pact. Competition is fierce. But unlike my less-intelligent brethren, I understand something crucial." The tone shifted, taking on a persuasive edge. "It is far better to feast regularly than to gorge once and starve thereafter." Leonard narrowed his eyes. So that''s his angle. It was an old negotiation tactic, wrapped in metaphor. A demon who didn''t seek immediate gratification, but rather, long-term benefits. A patient one. And that, if anything, was far more dangerous than a simple, mindless brute. Leonard took another step back, fingers twitching slightly in his robes. He needed to leave. The demon''s voice was smooth, dripping with calculated persuasion. "You wizards, you''re not all that different from us, are you? Sometimes, you need demons as experimental materials, or maybe an army of demons to help you conquer new planes." The voice carried a strange amusement. "After all, who doesn''t love a good crisis? Only a savior appearing in a time of peril can truly win the hearts of the people, right? What if we could help you with that?" Leonard''s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn''t interrupt. "Imagine this: we create a savior identity for you, a noble wizard who slays evil demons and drives them back into the Abyss. The locals, desperate for protection, invite you to safeguard their homes, your name becomes legend. But of course, the demons would always be lurking, ready to strike again. A never-ending struggle. That''s the real power of a savior." Leonard''s mind raced as the demon''s words echoed in his ears. It was a tempting offer, crafted with the precision of a master manipulator. Judging from the demon''s tone, it was something wizards frequently employed, using the forces of darkness as pawns in their plans. The demon continued, its voice darkening slightly. "For us demons, souls and flesh are enough. Beyond that, we have no use for the trivial things that you value." It paused, as if savoring the moment before continuing. "You see, countless lowly demons are born each day in the Mother River of the Abyss. We breed them by the thousands, there''s no end to them. These demons are expendable to us, the ultimate raw material. And the Abyss is vast, who can say how many demons it contains? More demons, more partners. The Abyss is never dissatisfied with more souls to add to its collection." Leonard''s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "It''s easy for you to find a partner," he said, "There are always intelligent beings in this world who seek the power of demons." His voice was calm, betraying none of the tension building inside him. But the demon responded with a hint of pride, its voice rising with self-assurance. "Ah, but there are few who are truly worthy of being our partners. Not everyone can join us in the Abyss. A select few are deemed worthy to walk alongside us." Leonard''s gaze shifted as the demon spoke, his thoughts turning inward. "I think it won''t be hard for an assistant brought into the lab by Wizard Harlin to become a full-fledged wizard," the demon mused, clearly reading the potential it sensed within Leonard. "I can feel the power of your soul already. It is remarkable. You have a bright future." Leonard''s stomach churned slightly. He knew the demon was trying to compliment him, but there was something about its praise that made him feel¡­ uneasy. "And what is it that you want in return?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice neutral. The demon chuckled lowly, a sound that sent shivers down Leonard''s spine. "To show my sincerity," it said with mock gravity, "I''m willing to make a small investment in you." Suddenly, the demon sacrificial magic circle before him shimmered, and the very air around him thickened as the ritual array began to reverse itself. The teleportation circle at the center of the magic circle slowly began to glow, its intricate patterns lighting up with a cold, pale light. Leonard''s heart rate quickened. He gripped his staff tightly, his fingers brushing the door handle, ready to flee at a moment''s notice. As the light of the summoning circle dimmed, something materialized in the center of the magic circle. At first, it was a blur, but as the haze lifted, Leonard saw a small glass bottle sitting innocuously on the ground. Inside, blood; dark and thick, sloshed ominously. Beside it lay a broken horn, jagged at the edge, a clear sign of the demon''s power. "Many demons in the Abyss have bad tempers," the demon explained, its tone laced with condescension. "I''m careful not to offend my future partners. So, I offer you this: a bottle of blood essence from a horned demon. The blood of demons is potent, highly infectious, no doubt you, as a wizard, know how to make use of it better than a crude demon like myself." The demon''s voice was rich with amusement as it continued, "And this..." It trailed off, almost as if reluctant to share. "This is my token, a broken horn. A symbol. The next time you wish to make a deal with a demon, you''ll remember who made the offer first." The demon''s words hung in the air, dense with implications. "Harlin and I have been partners for a long time. He knows my credibility. He''ll vouch for me." Leonard''s mind raced. He had heard enough. As if on cue, the door to his side, one he had forgotten about, suddenly creaked open with a soft groan, breaking the silence. Chapter 66 66: Truth About Alfonso! The demon''s voice dipped low, almost like a final whisper. "What do you know best?" Leonard was about to take another cautious step back when he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. He turned, only to see Wizard Merlin walking into the room with his usual deliberate stride. But it wasn''t just the wizard who entered. Trailing behind Merlin was a towering six-armed snake demon, its scales glistening in the dim light. Perched on the demon''s broad shoulders was a man, wearing a wizard''s robe, exuding an aura of authority. As they entered, Merlin''s eyes immediately flicked to the demon sacrificial array, still humming with residual energy. The dark aura in the room seemed to shift at his presence. "Ah, my dear friend," the demon''s voice echoed from the array, a rich laugh following closely behind. "Is this assistant of yours going to be useful? Lorene here is the six-armed demon I trust most. Her strength won''t disappoint." Leonard couldn''t help but notice the demon''s mocking tone, as though it found some amusement in the arrangement. Merlin, unfazed by the words, nodded. "Not bad. We''ll continue our cooperation next time, but please, refrain from making my assistant a casual investment." His voice was calm but edged with a warning. The demon on the other side let out a deep, throaty laugh, the sound echoing through the room. "Hahaha, I''m simply making a small investment," it chuckled. The atmosphere thickened with an unspoken understanding, as though both parties were playing an elaborate game. "The mission is complete. You can return now," Merlin said, turning toward the six-armed demon. Lorene, the imposing demon, glanced briefly at Merlin before lowering the man on her shoulders to the ground with careful precision. With a swift twist of her enormous tail, she slithered into the demon sacrificial magic circle, disappearing in a flash of light. As she vanished, the sacrificial array began to collapse. The blackened, charred corpse in the center started to solidify, its edges crumbling away as it was slowly drawn into a whirling vortex at the center of the magic circle. It disappeared without a trace, leaving the room eerily quiet. "You did well," Merlin remarked, his voice almost approving. "But remember, you always be cautious when dealing with demons." Leonard stood still, processing the scene unfolding before him. There was something chilling about the casual manner in which demons were manipulated, used as tools in the wizard''s world. But it was clear that Merlin had done this many times before. "Those... ''investments,''" Merlin continued, his tone shifting, "were gifts from Simon for you. Whether you accept them is entirely up to you." Leonard''s thoughts raced. Simon? Was that the demon he had communicated with earlier? The one who had tried to form a partnership? The revelation sent a ripple of unease through him. "Everything is up to you, teacher," Leonard replied respectfully, though his mind was already whirring with questions. Merlin gave a curt nod before pausing mid-sentence, his gaze hardening slightly. "Well, you can stay if you like." But then, his expression shifted, and he turned to face Leonard fully. His eyes, usually hidden behind the curtain of his demeanor, bore into Leonard with an unsettling intensity. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "When did you figure it out?" Merlin''s voice was cold, almost challenging. Leonard felt a chill creep up his spine, but he met Merlin''s gaze with unwavering calm. "Your appearance may change," he said steadily, "but your habit of placing lab equipment always stays the same. Also, many of the questions on the parchment scroll align with knowledge found in your diary. You didn''t intend to hide your identity from me from the beginning, did you?" Merlin or whoever he truly was¡ªpaused, and for a moment, his expression cracked, revealing something unexpected. A laugh, low and genuine, rumbled from him. "Hahahaha!" Merlin''s shoulders shook slightly with laughter. "You really are sharp, aren''t you? Just like I hoped." Leonard felt a wave of realization wash over him. This was no ordinary wizard. Merlin was hiding more than just a few tricks, he was a master of deception. "You''ve really impressed me, Leonard," Merlin said, his tone now shifting to one of something like pride, or perhaps something more calculating. He turned toward Leonard, his eyes glinting with an unreadable emotion. "You satisfy me in ways I hadn''t anticipated." A pause filled the room, but Merlin quickly continued, his voice adopting a more commanding tone. "But from now on, just call me Merlin when we''re in public. Understand?" Leonard nodded, though his mind was spinning with confusion. Merlin, or Alfonso? Was this the same person? Had Alfonso, the wizard with the purple curly hair, replaced the original Merlin? It was a lot to process, and Leonard couldn''t help but wonder if this was all part of a much larger, more intricate plan. It seemed unlikely for a wizard to maintain two identities at once, but then again, Merlin''s true nature was anything but typical. As if reading Leonard''s confusion, Merlin''s lips curled into a faint smile. He flicked his wrist, and suddenly, the ring on his finger glowed, sending a faint shimmer through the air. Leonard''s gaze snapped to the ring, sensing that something important was about to unfold. The air in the room shifted as a sudden presence materialized before Leonard, and in the next instant, a figure draped in a black robe stood before him. His cheeks were unnervingly gaunt, almost hollow, his face so thin it looked as though it were stretched over bones. His eye sockets were sunken deeply, casting a shadow of darkness around his gaze. The aura he radiated was one of utter gloom and despondency, as if life itself had drained from him long ago. Leonard''s heart skipped a beat when he recognized the figure, his pupils contracting sharply. Every doubt he had harbored over the past weeks suddenly shattered into clarity. Alfonso, the wizard he had come to know and interact with, was not the man he seemed. The truth flooded him in a rush, so sudden and undeniable that it left him breathless. Alfonso was nothing more than a puppet. No living human could be stored in a space ring, he''d known that, and yet he''d never questioned why Alfonso had never rested, never eaten, and always sat in the same position every time Leonard had checked on him in Bangor Port. And now, it all made sense. Merlin, the mysterious wizard the Bahof elf had mentioned, who stayed locked away in his room on the ship¡­ it was all connected. Merlin had been using two puppets at once, Alfonso as one, and possibly someone else as another. The thought of being manipulated in this way stirred something cold inside Leonard, something deeper than mere frustration. His emotions were a tangled mess; anger, betrayal, confusion. But it didn''t change the fact that Alfonso, or whoever had been pretending to be him, had never truly seen him as a student. Alfonso had used him just as he used everything else, manipulating Leonard with careful precision. Leonard swallowed hard and met the gaze of the puppet before him. "Just do your own thing, Leonard," Alfonso''s voice was soft, almost empty, but there was a sharpness to it as he spoke. "I told you before that this is just a fair deal. Remember what you promised me." The figure in black slowly lifted his head, his cold, empty eyes sweeping the room, pausing momentarily on Merlin. The briefest of glances passed between them, an unspoken understanding. Leonard, still reeling from the revelation, nodded slowly, trying to steady his thoughts. "I understand," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. Alfonso''s hand moved with unnerving calmness to the ground beside him. He reached down and picked up the blood and broken horn of the horned demon, handing them to Leonard with an eerie gentleness. The air felt thick around them, as if time itself was holding its breath. "Take this," Alfonso''s voice was calm, but there was a strange weight to it. "But remember, don''t use the demon''s blood carelessly. The lava octopus blood I gave you earlier, use that for your experiments, not on yourself. Becoming a blood wizard may give you some quick power, but it won''t be of much benefit to you in the long run. Especially not for your Hellfire path." Leonard absorbed the words with the solemnity they deserved, though a part of him still bristled from the growing understanding that his mentor, if one could even call him that, had been playing him all along. But still, he respected Alfonso''s knowledge. "I understand, teacher," Leonard replied, his voice steady despite the storm swirling inside him. Alfonso then turned his attention to the wizard lying on the ground; a figure Leonard had nearly forgotten about in the wake of the revelations. With practiced precision, Alfonso stripped away the wizard''s clothing and accessories. His hands moved with disturbing swiftness, and a quiet murmur escaped his lips. "Any item, no matter how small or inconspicuous, may be a magical artifact," Alfonso muttered to himself, his voice cold and calculating. "Never underestimate a wizard, even if they seem to have lost their ability to resist, you never know what they''re capable of." Chapter 67 67: Summon To The God! Leonard stood back, watching, feeling the chill of the room settle deeper into his bones as Alfonso''s blue eyes began to glow with an ethereal light. He muttered an incantation under his breath, and a faint, shimmering blue spell cascaded over the body of the fallen wizard. The wizard''s body jerked violently, as if defying the natural laws of life, and in the next moment, the wizard sat upright, his head hanging low, eyes glazed and vacant. Leonard blinked in disbelief. The wizard was mindless, an empty shell of his former self. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. "What did you steal?" Merlin''s voice rang out, his tone clipped and demanding. The possessed wizard mumbled in a low, monotone voice. "The sacrificial item of the Siren, a broken trident." Merlin''s gaze sharpened. "Where is it?" The wizard, in his dazed state, continued to mutter as though in a trance. "In my space ring." Alfonso, still with an eerie calmness, examined the wizard''s jewelry, three rings in total. A ruby ring, a silver antique ring, and a blue ring inlaid with emeralds. His fingers toyed with them as he muttered to himself, distracted, yet thoroughly absorbed in his task. Merlin''s voice cut through the room again. "Where are you from?" The question hung in the air like a weight, and Leonard couldn''t shake the feeling that everything; everything, was spiraling into a much darker game than he could have ever anticipated. The wizard''s voice was weak, his words barely audible as he muttered, "The Wizard Tower in the Forest of Bones¡­" Leonard frowned, his thoughts racing. The Wizard Tower in the Forest of Bones? It sounded almost too unbelievable. And yet, when Merlin spoke, his skepticism was clear. "The Wizard Tower in the Forest of Bones? But from what I know, most of the wizards there have turned into the undead long ago." His tone dripped with derision. "Please, come up with a better excuse next time." Alfonso, standing beside Merlin, didn''t even flinch at the exchange. Instead, he acted with a swiftness that startled Leonard. With a sudden motion, Alfonso raised his right hand and placed it gently on the wizard''s crown. The change was instantaneous. The wizard''s already cloudy eyes rolled upward, leaving only the whites staring back, and his body went rigid, frozen in place. The air in the room grew thicker, heavy with tension. Merlin chuckled lightly, as if entertained by the wizard''s helplessness. "By the way," he remarked casually, "don''t bother trying to cast spells in secret. Your mental energy is more obvious than fish swimming in a pond." Leonard watched with fascination as Alfonso stood still, his hand on the wizard''s head, controlling him effortlessly. Despite the grim nature of the scene, the power on display was almost hypnotic. Merlin, however, wasn''t one to waste time on such trivialities. "It doesn''t really matter where he came from. What''s important is what he stole." His voice grew more serious, a sharp edge creeping in. "Anything that falls into the hands of a wizard becomes my trophy." Alfonso handed Merlin one of the wizard''s rings, which he accepted with a deliberate grace. He closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers brushing the cool surface of the ring. A faint, almost imperceptible glow flickered from the emerald-studded band, a blue light that pulsed with a quiet intensity. Merlin opened his eyes, a faint smile curling on his lips. In his hand, a heavy trident materialized, its weight unmistakable. The weapon was battered and worn, with only the faintest remains of a halberd handle left, the three prongs now chipped and dulled. The color was an aged copper green, the kind that could only come from decades or perhaps centuries, of exposure to salt and time. Merlin inspected it with a playful grin, his fingers running over the cold metal. "Another wizard trying to take advantage," he mused, almost affectionately, as if the broken trident was a new toy. After a moment, he tossed it carelessly toward Leonard. Leonard''s instincts kicked in, and he caught the trident mid-air, his palm sinking under its weight. Despite his enhanced physical strength, the trident felt heavier than anything he had ever held. It was like the weapon itself carried the weight of a thousand years, its power compressed into every ounce of its form. Leonard''s brow furrowed as he tried to balance it. "This thing should be related to the sea god," Merlin said, his voice taking on a more thoughtful tone. "In truth, most of the truly valuable artifacts of the gods have already been looted by the great wizards. But there are always those who believe they can find treasures hidden in the remains of these gods." Leonard could feel the weight of the statement, the unspoken truth that some wizards never stopped seeking greater power, even at the cost of diving into the ruins of the divine. Merlin''s eyes narrowed slightly. "They''re questioning the judgment of the great wizards. A dangerous thing to do." Merlin turned to face Leonard with an unreadable expression. "But this weapon? It''s not entirely useless. In fact, your statue might be interested in it. Why don''t you summon it and see?" Leonard''s curiosity piqued, and without a word, he reached into his storage ring and pulled out the small statue of Poseidon. With a deep breath, he placed it carefully on the ground, the cool stone surface cold beneath his fingers. For a long moment, nothing happened. The statue remained inert, silent, lifeless. Leonard felt his heart rate quicken in anticipation, but just as he began to doubt the outcome, a faint blue light flickered across the statue''s surface, like the first hint of a storm on the horizon. Then, almost as if summoned by some force beyond his comprehension, a distant sound, the roar of the ocean, the call of deep-sea monsters, echoed in his mind. It was faint at first, like a dream that couldn''t quite take shape, but then it grew louder, filling the room with the unmistakable sound of crashing waves and creature cries. Leonard felt the illusion of a distant plane brush against the edges of his perception, the very air around him shimmering with ethereal energy. He stared, wide-eyed, at the statue. Could this be¡­ God? The thought raced through his mind like wildfire. This was more than just an artifact. The statue could connect with a divine power, a force that transcended the material world. But where did that power come from? Was it the last echo of a lost god, or was there something far deeper at play here? Leonard could hardly tear his gaze away, his heart thudding in his chest. What was this power? What was it truly capable of? A low, rumbling voice seemed to come from the statue of Poseidon, or perhaps from the vast ocean of darkness itself, echoing through the room in a tone that oozed condescension. "Wizard, you are not qualified to speak to me. Your power is nothing compared to the mighty wizards of old." Leonard''s heart raced at the response, but it was Merlin who remained unfazed, his tone cool and almost mocking. "Once hailed as the most active god of the oceans," Merlin mused, his voice carrying an edge of disdain, "now you''re nothing but a trapped relic, forced to rely on this pitiful statue to spread your faith and regain power. It''s truly pathetic. Who knows when you''ll be strong again?" Leonard couldn''t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the god, though he didn''t show it. There was something haunting about hearing such a powerful being reduced to a shadow of its former self. But Merlin wasn''t done. "Tell me," he continued, "Don''t you want this trident? Surely a god like you can see its worth." From the statue, the response was immediate and chilling. "This trident is not my sacred object. It is useless to me now." The voice was cold, distant, but there was an undercurrent of something more; regret, perhaps. Merlin didn''t flinch. "If it were truly useless, you wouldn''t have responded to my call. For a god like you, each time you answer a summons, it drains your already dwindling power." Merlin''s voice dropped to a low, dangerous murmur, almost like a serpent tempting its prey. "It seems you''re still tied to this trident more than you''d like to admit." The voice from the statue darkened. "Damn you wizards," Methys, the god of tides and sea monsters, hissed, his voice now dripping with bitterness. "You are all so despicable, so treacherous." Merlin''s lips curled into a knowing smile. "Ah, this is the power of knowledge, dear god." He stood tall, his right hand casually resting on his left shoulder as he leaned forward, a look of quiet triumph in his eyes. "Without knowledge, I would not know the true value of this trident, nor could I have come to this agreement with you. Just like the antique dealers in the world who can find treasures hidden in what others call garbage, those without vision will forever see rubbish where there''s gold. Knowledge, my dear Methys, is wealth." Methys fell silent, the weight of Merlin''s words sinking in. Finally, the god spoke again, his tone weary but laced with an undeniable sharpness. "I don''t want to argue with you, wizards. What do you want from me?" Chapter 68 68: Deal with The God! Merlin''s eyes gleamed. "It''s not about what I can get, but what you can give me." His voice grew more measured, the words flowing like a carefully constructed plan. "The divine fire, godhead, priesthood, divinity, and divine power, these are the five great sources of a god''s power. The godhead is the cornerstone of your very being, and I know you won''t be splitting that anytime soon. Priesthood is useless to us; it has no meaning without the other four divine powers. What you can offer is divine fire, divinity, and divine power." There was a long pause before Methys responded, his voice colder now. "The divine fire cannot be given to you." Merlin''s response was calm, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes. "Without faith, even if you gave me the divine fire, it would be worthless. So, let''s move on." He paused, letting the tension hang in the air before continuing, "Let''s talk about divinity." Methys was silent for a moment, before conceding with a reluctant sigh. "Fine. I will give you a wisp of my divinity." Merlin raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. "One wisp? Is that all? I need five." The god''s voice turned to a growl. "You ask for too much, wizard. Five wisps of divinity? Do you truly believe I would part with that much? Are you not afraid of being consumed by it?" The words hung in the air, thick with the weight of what they implied. Divinity wasn''t just raw power, it was the very essence of a god. Each god''s divinity was unique, tied to their nature and beliefs. Mortals who absorbed divinity could take on the characteristics of a god, even transcend their human limits, but it was dangerous. Divinity was corrupting, capable of swallowing the unprepared and turning them into mere vessels for the god''s will. Merlin leaned forward, his expression almost predatory. "I''m not afraid, Methys. You see, divinity is a bargain. For a being such as you, it''s a transaction. I offer knowledge, and in exchange, I take what you are willing to give. And I will take what I need." Methys''s voice grew more menacing. "Do you know what you are asking for, wizard? Do you understand the consequences of absorbing this much of my divinity? You risk everything; your soul, your very identity." Merlin didn''t flinch, his voice low and steady. "Yes, I understand. And I''m willing to take that risk." A cold silence settled between them, as if the god and the wizard were locked in a contest of wills. Finally, Methys spoke, his voice resigned but tinged with something darker. "You have no idea what you''re asking for, wizard. But fine. You''ll get your five wisps." Merlin''s smile deepened, though there was no warmth in it. "Excellent. Let''s begin, then." Leonard watched in awe and trepidation, caught between the overwhelming power of Methys, the god of tides, and the calculating genius of Merlin. The tension in the room was palpable, and Leonard couldn''t shake the feeling that something far greater than he could understand was unfolding right before him. The tension in the room was thick with the weight of the negotiation, and the air around them felt charged with an electric energy. Merlin, ever the calm and calculated strategist, spoke again, his voice smooth and measured. "Why not?" he asked, his gaze flicking toward the trident. "This trident, worshipped by the Siren clan for centuries, contains the power of faith. If you were to use divine fire to convert it into divine power, it could be more valuable than you think." Merlin''s voice took on a persuasive edge. "You and it are both gods of the ocean. While I''m not a god myself, I understand how divine objects tied to a pantheon or priesthood can be converted. The conversion rate isn''t low, especially when the object in question holds such significant belief." The room grew heavy with silence. Methys, the god of tides and sea monsters, hesitated, clearly rattled. The idea that a mere wizard had such knowledge of divine matters made him uncomfortable, this was inmagic circle that only those who had walked the path of gods could truly understand. But this wizard... this Merlin, seemed to know too much. Methys''s voice broke the stillness, low and begrudging. "Three strands of divinity. That''s my final offer." The weight of the god''s words lingered in the air. "It''s not easy for me to accumulate divinity. Since I was sealed, it takes me a long time to even gather a single strand." Merlin''s smile barely flickered, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Three strands of divinity, then. If you want our cooperation to continue in the future, that is." Methys growled, his frustration bubbling over. "Damn it! I''m really losing more than I''m gaining in this deal!" His voice was filled with anger, as if the gods themselves were mocking him. Merlin let the moment linger, but then gestured calmly, as though it was all part of the plan. The statue of Poseidon responded with a subtle shift, its eyes glowed a brilliant blue, and the light began to cast a shimmering projection forward, filling the room with an ethereal glow. The air grew thick with energy, and in the center of the light, four points of blue-gold began to form, coalescing into something tangible. The blue-gold light swirled and danced, moving from an ethereal illusion into something real, something far more dangerous and powerful than Leonard could comprehend. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. The light became dense, swirling into four wisps of divine essence, floating serenely in the room like ethereal clouds. Merlin turned to Methys with an expression of satisfaction. "It''s been a pleasure working with you, Mr. Methys." Without a second thought, Merlin handed over the trident, a relic of great power, but now seemingly more of a formality in their exchange. The trident, as though guided by unseen forces, floated suspended in mid-air. Merlin stepped back, his hands folded with an air of finality. As the trident hovered, the surrounding atmosphere thickened. The air shimmered with azure projections that flickered and deepened, becoming richer and darker with each passing moment. Leonard, mesmerized by the growing intensity of the scene, turned toward the window. He saw the blue projections stretch out, like tendrils of the sea itself, pulling everything toward an unfathomable depth. For a fleeting moment, he felt like he was staring into the very heart of the ocean, sinking deeper into its abyss. Outside, the ships on the sea, which had been cruising steadily, slowed to an unnatural crawl. The movement of the vessels seemed almost as if they were stuck in a mire, unable to move forward. It was as if the very fabric of reality was being bent by the powers unleashed within the room. The ghost captain, standing alone on the deck, sensed something was wrong. The eerie calm that had settled over the ship was suddenly shattered by a deep, unnerving tension. He rushed from the captain''s quarters and out onto the deck, his eyes scanning the darkened horizon for any sign of danger. After the terrifying events that had unfolded previously, no one dared to stay on deck at night. Only he, the captain, stood in the eerie silence, his senses on high alert. The deck was completely still, the vastness of the sea stretching out like an endless black expanse. The ghost captain stood at the bow, his figure rigid with apprehension. As his eyes swept the ship, his breath caught. He felt something... wrong. His body froze, and a look of shock spread across his face. Fear. The once-confident captain, a man who had seen countless voyages, suddenly found himself gripped with an unsettling dread. This was a route he had traveled many times before. This ship was no ordinary vessel, its special status had kept it free from danger for years. Yet now, something felt off, something he couldn''t explain. This wasn''t the kind of trouble he was accustomed to. Something powerful, something ancient, was unfolding before his very eyes. And whatever it was, it wasn''t going to be easy to stop. The realization hit him hard: this trip was unlike any other. And the gods themselves seemed to be meddling with the fate of everyone aboard. The sea around the ship was strangely still, illuminated by an eerie glow that contrasted sharply against the darkness of the night sky. The vast expanse of the deep sea beyond stretched out, its waves dark and restless, rolling endlessly like an unseen force lurking just beneath the surface. But beneath the ship, the water seemed to pulse with an otherworldly brilliance. The light below was an impossibly vivid blue, radiant and vibrant, contrasting sharply with the shadows above. The waves and winds, once ferocious, began to subside, as if the ocean itself was bowing to some unseen power. The blue light under the ship lingered for what seemed like an eternity, bathing the sea in a quiet, glowing aura. But eventually, the light began to fade, slowly dissipating into the depths, leaving only the dark, rolling waves behind. At that moment, the ghost captain, who had been frozen in place, regained control of his body. As the commander of the ghost ship, he had been bound by a spell from the wizard, trapped aboard the vessel for eternity. Though he had lost much of his freedom, the spell provided a measure of protection, but now, he felt something was terribly wrong. His body was no longer his own. It was as if the very essence of the sea was holding him in place, as if he was under the watchful gaze of something far older, far more powerful. The fear that gripped him wasn''t the unsettling sense of being watched; no, it was something far worse. As the captain stood at the bow, his eyes widened in realization. What lay beneath the ship was not some natural phenomenon, it was a blue eye, massive and all-seeing. The creature that owned such an eye was far larger than any beast he had ever encountered, its sheer size dwarfing entire islands. It was an entity from the depths of the sea, a force of unimaginable power, watching them with a hunger that seemed almost palpable. Chapter 69 69: Master Servant Bond! At the same time, in the confines of the ship''s cabin, Merlin was busy at work. He carefully placed Alfonso into his space ring, then produced four purple crystals from his robe. With deft movements, Merlin began to absorb the floating wisps of divine essence into the crystals, watching as the gas was drawn in like a vacuum. The transmagic circle was quick. As the divinity filled the purple crystals, they began to glow, shifting from purple to a rich, pure gold, their power condensed and concentrated into an object of incredible value. Merlin turned to Leonard, handing one of the now golden crystals to him. "Here is your reward," he said smoothly, the weight of the crystal in Leonard''s palm somehow making the air feel heavier. S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. Though Leonard had little understanding of what divinity truly was, the very presence of the crystal was enough to tell him that it was something of immense value. He had no doubt that what he now held could change everything, if he knew how to wield it. "After all," Merlin added with a wry smile, "I used your statue to communicate with Methys. This divinity is a rare and precious material. Even for most wizards, it''s something to be guarded carefully." Merlin''s tone turned more serious. "You''d do well to keep this secret. If anyone finds out you have even a trace of divinity, you''ll find yourself facing some serious trouble." Leonard nodded in understanding, the crystal still warm in his hand as he placed it carefully into his space ring, sealing it away. Merlin gave a dismissive wave, signaling the end of the exchange. "The lab has been cleaned up. Come to my lab at the same time tomorrow," he instructed, his voice now distant, as if his mind was already moving on to the next task. Leonard turned and left the wizard''s room, heading back to his own quarters. Despite the excitement swirling within him, he managed to quell his curiosity for the moment. First, he needed to check on his alchemy laboratory. Inside the cool, dimly lit space, he carefully removed the divine crystal from his ring. The moment the crystal emerged, the two iron earthworms that had been quietly resting in the corner of the lab stirred. They crawled toward him, their movements erratic, almost as if they were drawn to the crystal itself. The air around Leonard seemed to vibrate with an intense energy, and the bracelet on his wrist buzzed with desire, transmitting the emotions of the earthworms directly to him. "Master, what is this?" David''s voice trembled as he looked at the divine crystal, his body shaking with an unfamiliar hunger. Leonard could see his familiar''s eyes dilating, a clear sign that David was feeling a powerful attraction toward the crystal, one that went beyond mere curiosity. "How do you feel?" Leonard asked, studying David''s reaction closely. "I... I don''t know. It''s like... this crystal is calling to me. I can''t explain it, but it feels like my whole body is being pulled toward it." David''s breathing was heavy, and his voice was shaky, as if the very essence of the crystal was pushing him toward something primal. Leonard watched as David struggled to suppress the overwhelming desire. The sight of David''s reaction was unsettling. The divine crystal, filled with the essence of a god, clearly had a profound effect on creatures with blood, especially one like David, who had undergone such an intense mutation. But why didn''t Leonard feel the same pull? He wondered, turning the crystal in his hands, watching how it glowed in the dim candlelight, casting a deep gold reflection across his dark eyes. There was something about the crystal that called to him, but in a way that felt distant, almost out of reach. "Let me study it more closely," Leonard muttered to himself, though he couldn''t deny the curiosity gnawing at his mind. David closed his eyes, forcing himself to shut out the powerful attraction. His body trembled with the effort to resist. Leonard examined the crystal with a renewed sense of focus. Divinity was a rare and potent material, and though he didn''t have the expertise to study it properly yet, that didn''t mean he couldn''t learn. Directly bestowing divinity upon a creature was the most basic form of its use, and Leonard understood that it could lead to unpredictable consequences. He needed to know more. His fingers gently brushed over the silver-gray ring on his index finger, which flashed with a subtle light. With a thought, the magic crystal vanished, absorbed back into his palm, hidden away for now. For the next several days, Leonard continued to assist Marlin with his experiments. As expected, much of his work was auxiliary, nothing more than simple tasks like preparing materials or peeling certain ingredients. But there was no denying the curiosity that simmered inside him. He longed for the chance to lead his own experiments, to truly dive into the mysteries of wizardry. However, it was clear that only when he was the one initiating the experiments would they be counted as "tasks" toward his progress. Despite his growing interest, Leonard found the other wizards on the ship less than inspiring. As word spread that he was working with Marlin, he was bombarded with invitations, temptations, and even veiled threats from those who hoped to sway him to their side. But to Leonard, the offers were laughable. He knew that none of them had anything on the support Marlin offered him. With the power and influence of one of the ship''s most formidable wizards backing him, Leonard had no need to concern himself with the petty schemes of others. The experiments with Marlin took a fascinating turn when the wizard began working on a potion that could cause a blood mutation, similar to the one David had undergone. This new version of the potion, however, was an advanced model, one that could create lizardmen with far more specialized abilities. Aquatic lizardmen could breathe underwater and dive to depths that most sea creatures would never dare approach. Gliding lizardmen possessed thin, bat-like wings that allowed them to soar through the air. There were also stone-skinned lizardmen, whose toughened hides made them resistant to low-level spells, and even invisible lizardmen, capable of rendering themselves nearly unseen. Marlin was not simply creating a potion; he was crafting an entirely new form of life, one tailored to survive in the most extreme environments imaginable. The possibilities were endless, and Leonard couldn''t help but marvel at the scope of Marlin''s work. But as he watched, a nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind. If the power of divinity could create such creatures, what other secrets might it unlock? And what role would Leonard play in the experiments yet to come? There were numerous types of mutant lizardmen that Marlin was experimenting with, each with its own specialized traits. From the basic, mindless warriors to more advanced variants, the possibilities seemed endless. But it wasn''t just about creating a cheap army of disposable soldiers. Leonard began to realize that Marlin wasn''t just looking to develop war machines. No, this was something far more ambitious. Marlin was creating an entirely new race, one with a diversity of forms, each suited to different environments and challenges. The low production costs only added to the scale of the project, making it all the more fascinating. But none of that truly concerned Leonard. His role was simple: he was an assistant, and his job was to follow instructions. He didn''t delve into Marlin''s motives or purpose in crafting these creatures. That was beyond his scope. As the experiments continued, Marlin kept nothing from Leonard. The young apprentice absorbed knowledge as he worked alongside the wizard, and it wasn''t long before he understood the full process behind creating these mutant lizardmen. Marlin, noticing Leonard''s sharp aptitude, was quick to offer praise. "I must admit," Marlin said, his tone a mixture of admiration and surprise, "you have a real gift for mutation studies. It''s rare to come across someone with such natural talent. You could go far, Leonard. If you focus on one area, you''ll be able to earn magic stones far more easily than most once you''re at the academy." Leonard blinked, curious. "Magic stones?" Marlin smiled, as though explaining something simple. "Yes, magic stones. You''ll need them for almost everything at the academy, advanced courses, research materials, cultivating followers, even gaining access to planes beyond this world. Magic stones are a currency, Leonard. Don''t underestimate their importance." "Followers?" Leonard asked, perplexed. "Yes," Marlin replied. "Cultivating followers or servants. Whether you''re developing other planes or conquering them, you''ll need people to serve you. A wizard can''t handle everything alone, especially not when you''re focused on deepening your understanding of magic. You''ll need trustworthy subordinates to help manage your territories and resources." Leonard began to understand. Wizards, while incredibly powerful, were often consumed by their research. Managing the mundane tasks of running a kingdom or a world would distract them from their true calling. They needed others to carry the burden. In many ways, the most trusted servants would become vital parts of their power structure. It suddenly clicked why many wizard apprentices Leonard had encountered over the past months seemed to carry servants with them. These servants, often raised from childhood, had specialized skills; combat prowess, intelligence, and sometimes even magical abilities. Before these apprentices had fully developed their powers, their servants acted as bodyguards or support in their quests for knowledge. The true challenge, Leonard realized, wasn''t in giving power to these servants. It was in ensuring their loyalty. That''s where things got tricky. Power was easy to bestow; loyalty was something else entirely. "So," Marlin continued, "wizards developed contracts, master-servant bonds, to ensure loyalty. Without something like that, your servants might eventually betray you, especially once they''ve gained power of their own." Leonard nodded, reflecting on his own relationship with David. Though David had become someone he trusted, Leonard wasn''t na?ve enough to believe that trust couldn''t be broken. He believed in proving loyalty over time, not just in feelings or words. As the conversation shifted, Marlin gazed out the window. "The ship is about to reach its destination. We''ll be there in two days," he said, almost casually. Leonard nodded, his thoughts flickering back to his agreement with Angele. The clock was ticking, and he had much to prepare for. "I understand."