Chương 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'
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.
Tình trạng nguồn điện hàng tuần
-- Xếp hạng
Quyền lực 
-- Đá
Quyền lực