Translator: CinderTL
Roland first went to the blacksmith shop to ask old master Hawk for half a day off before hurrying to the secluded wooden cabin.
The door was ajar. He called out and pushed it open, the scene inside making his heart clench.
Bronson was leaning weakly against the bed, his already gaunt frame now even more frail. His hair was disheveled, his beard unkempt, and his cheeks smudged with soot-like black streaks. The long robe he usually wore was now tattered and covered in fine scratches, with a few tiny holes scattered across it, as if burned by sparks.
Roland breathed a sigh of relief when he saw no blood or obvious wounds on Bronson. Though his face was haggard, a flicker of fanaticism burned in the scholar's eyes. He was intently studying the dagger Roland had forged himself, muttering incantations under his breath.
"Mr. Bronson?"
"Roland?"
Hearing the call, Bronson finally tore his gaze from the dagger. Seeing Roland's handsome face, he sprang up from the bed with excitement.
"Roland! Our previous deduction was correct. The demon—"
"Shh!"
Roland quickly raised a finger to his lips, silencing Bronson before he could finish.
He then swiftly moved to the door, cautiously scanning the surroundings to ensure no one was eavesdropping. Only after confirming their privacy did he slowly close the door and return to Bronson.
"Mr. Bronson," Roland said, lowering his voice in exasperation as he looked at the overly excited scholar. "If you don't want to be labeled a madman, lose the Baron's funding, and be kicked out of the manor, it's best to keep your discussions about magic quiet."
"Ah! Right, right, right!"
As if struck by a sudden realization, Bronson's face froze for a moment. But he quickly nodded, hunching his back and lowering his voice to a whisper.
"But Roland, the Magic Element on the continent really is slowly reviving! Look at this..."
Despite his efforts to keep his voice down, the barely contained excitement was evident in his trembling tone.
He held the strangely shaped dagger before Roland's eyes as if presenting a priceless treasure.
The moment the dagger drew near, that familiar, uncanny sensation—as if it could sense the emotional fluctuations of fire—washed over Roland again.
He narrowed his eyes, studying it closely.
Compared to when he had given it to Bronson, the dagger's overall appearance hadn't changed much.
Only the cylindrical midsection was now covered in a spiderweb of fine cracks, and the intricate spell patterns adorning it now glowed with an eerie, blood-red light.
"I've successfully harvested a fire element!"
"Harvested... a fire element?" Roland frowned slightly.
Lacking the relevant knowledge, he couldn't fully grasp the difficulty of this feat.
But the fanatical gleam in Bronson's eyes made it clear that this was no simple task.
"That's right! Watch this!"
Bronson eagerly began his demonstration.
He carefully touched the dagger's tip to the smooth surface of the table.
The instant the blade met the wood, the solid tabletop began to slowly melt away like butter under a hot knife.
Thin wisps of blue smoke rose into the air, eventually leaving behind a thumb-sized, charred hole in the table, its edges still glowing with a dark red ember.
At the same time, the red glow emanating from the intricate patterns on the dagger dimmed slightly.
As Roland was secretly startled by this strange phenomenon, Bronson had already begun to speak excitedly.
"Do you know, Roland? Even before the Final Epoch, wizards had to use a unique method to draw elements from the air and cast spells by activating runes imprinted deep within their consciousness. But regardless of the element, not a single trace of it remained in their bodies after casting the spell."
"But I!"
Bronson raised the dagger high, his voice rising involuntarily, his eyes gleaming with an almost fanatical light.
"I have created spell patterns that can store Magic Elements! This is an epoch-making breakthrough!"
"Mr. Bronson," Roland said, reluctant to dampen the scholar's enthusiasm, but feeling it necessary to bring him back to reality. "According to your explanation of how spells work, even if these patterns can store Magic Elements, wouldn't they still dissipate after the spell is cast? And besides..."
He pulled out the red crystal he had kept close to his body.
"Isn't this crystal, formed by solidified Magic Elements, also a form of storage?"
"Completely different!"
Roland hadn't expected his question to make Bronson even more excited.
"According to ancient texts, these crystals of solidified Magic Elements only exist within demonic beasts and cannot be artificially created!"
"And when wizards cast spells, they must expend a great deal of mental power to filter out the unnecessary impurities from the air."
"But my spell pattern already purifies the Magic Elements as it draws them in, eliminating the need for mental exertion. I can directly channel the purified Magic Elements without expending any mental power."
Hearing this, Roland finally understood.
Bronson's spell pattern was essentially a power bank with a built-in filter.
It could purify the various elements mixed in the air into a single attribute and store them.
When casting a spell, one could directly extract the pure Magic Elements from it, completely bypassing the need to expend mental power.
If that were the case, it truly seemed like a groundbreaking discovery.
As Roland pondered this, Bronson's excited voice rang out beside him.
"Watch closely, Roland!"
The increasingly frenzied scholar gripped his dagger with four fingers, raised his arm level with his shoulder, and extended his index finger forward.
In the next moment, a fire orb the size of a knuckle suddenly materialized out of thin air, slowly coalescing at Roland's fingertip.
Whoosh!
With a whistling sound, the fireball shot out like an arrow.
Bang!
After a muffled thud, a charred crater was left on the thick wooden wall.
Roland, taken aback by the sight, was about to say something when a sharp cracking sound suddenly pierced the silence.
Turning his head, he saw Bronson's dagger shattering inch by inch, metal fragments clattering to the floor.
An eerie silence fell over the room.
"Mr. Bronson," Roland broke the silence. "That... was that magic?"
It wasn't that he was blind; the power of that fire orb was vastly different from the one cast by the Blood-Colored Goblin.
"Well, strictly speaking..." Bronson cleared his throat, the earlier fervor completely gone, replaced by his usual reserved demeanor. "That was just a trick, known in ancient texts as the Flame Arrow."
"A trick?"
"Yes. According to ancient texts, magic is divided into tricks and spells. Spells are further classified into nine tiers."
Roland thoughtfully recalled memories from his past life.
"So tricks are just the most basic application of magic?"
"That's an accurate way to understand it."
"How long did it take you to gather those Magic Elements?"
"About... ten days?"
"So this was the first time you've used this spell pattern to cast a trick?"
"No, the second."
Bronson's voice grew softer, fading to an almost inaudible whisper.
"Ten days of charging, and it's already worn out after two tricks? Not to mention the time I spent forging this dagger in the first place..."
Roland's initial enthusiasm instantly cooled.
But after a moment's reflection, he realized Bronson's spell pattern design actually held considerable potential.
After all, this was just preliminary research.
If they could delve deeper, shorten the charging time, and reduce the spell pattern's wear on the device, allowing it to cast spells multiple times...
Even the most basic tricks could significantly enhance combat effectiveness.
From Bronson's demonstration, it seemed using a spell pattern to cast tricks consumed almost no mental power.
After a moment of contemplation, Roland spoke.
"Mr. Bronson, could I learn that trick?"
"Of course."
Bronson nodded gently.
"The knowledge of tricks isn't restricted by the High Tower's prohibitions on me."
"Well, I think..."
Roland paused, encouragingly.
"Mr. Bronson, while your research results may not be perfect yet, their potential for development is vast."
"You're right!"
Bronson's spirits lifted, and a spark of determination rekindled in his eyes.
"If I keep at it, I'll surely..."
Here, Bronson's expression faltered.
"Uh... but I seem to be running short on research funds."
"Lately, because of the war in Black Cedar Forest, Baron Forslin has rejected my requests for research funding several times. And when I returned just now, I demonstrated my findings to him, but..."
Bronson scratched his head, looking embarrassed.
"He said my performance was just circus trickery. He even flew into a rage and further cut my research funding."
"Trickery?"
Hearing this, Roland recalled the village where he had stayed before the Heavenly Father's celebration. There had indeed been performers demonstrating similar techniques.
But he was certain...
Roland glanced at the black hole in the wooden wall, still emitting a wisp of blue smoke.
The other's technique could never achieve this effect.
Still, he understood Baron Forslin's perspective.
After all, magic had vanished centuries ago, and people had long since lost their understanding of this mysterious art.
Not to mention the trick Bronson was performing resembled juggling more than actual magic.
Thinking this, Roland paused for a moment before speaking slowly.
"If you were to continue refining this spell pattern, how much would you need per month?"
"Not much, not much at all!"
Bronson, sensing the hidden meaning in Roland's words, rubbed his hands together and slowly held up three fingers.
"Three silver coins will be more than enough!"
"Because the Magic Element is gradually reviving, I've discovered that the spell pattern can still produce effects even without relying on solid artifacts. The effects are greatly diminished, of course, but it doesn't significantly impact my research."
"Three silver coins, huh?"
That's barely manageable, Roland thought, mentally calculating.
As a blacksmith apprentice, he earned nearly one silver coin a month. Combined with the five silver coins he already had, that would be enough to fund Bronson's research for two months.
As for what would happen after two months...
He planned to take on a bounty from the Adventurer's Guild to slay demonic beasts and see how much he could earn.
Thinking this, Roland cleared his throat.
"Mr. Bronson, I'm willing to support your continued research, but..."
"But what?"
Bronson immediately leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Roland with eager anticipation. His wrinkled face was filled with hope, a comical yet somewhat pitiful sight.
"I need you to share your research findings with me completely and assist me with any research I require."
"No problem! But..."
Bronson tugged at the corner of his mouth, looking slightly embarrassed.
"Does your promise to be my assistant still stand? I'm not trying to be lazy."
As if afraid Roland would misunderstand, he quickly explained.
"With your help, my research speed would increase significantly. That would be beneficial for both of us, wouldn't it?"
"No problem. I'll be staying at the manor for the next few days anyway."
As he spoke, Roland reached into his pocket, pulled out a coin pouch, and fumbled for three silver coins, which he handed to Bronson.
As for whether Bronson would deceive him, Roland had his own thoughts.
If Bronson cheated him, the worst he'd lose would be a few coins. With his steadily improving skills and strength, acquiring money would only become easier.
But if Bronson truly dedicated himself to the research and successfully improved the spell pattern, or even developed other types of spell patterns, it would be a massive boost to Roland's current limited offensive capabilities.
Moreover, Bronson held many treasures worth exploring, such as the ancient texts written in an unfamiliar script.
Though Roland couldn't study them now, he would definitely seek guidance on them later.
Establishing a long-term partnership with this eccentric scholar seemed like a guaranteed win.
As Roland pondered this, a question suddenly struck him.
"By the way, Mr. Bronson, I recall you requested me to craft that dagger... was that before you predicted the resurgence of the Magic Element?"
"Uh... well..."
Hearing the question, Bronson deftly pocketed the coins while speaking with a hint of embarrassment.
"You might not know this, Roland, but anyone who gains entry to the High Tower for advanced studies naturally possesses an affinity for a specific element."
"So, initially... I had intended to use my own blood for the experiment."
"Elemental affinity..."
Hearing this familiar term, Roland couldn't help but recall the properties of the Furnace Heart.
"Does that mean that since I have an affinity for the fire element, I also have the potential to become a wizard?"
Suppressing this somewhat unrealistic thought for the moment, Roland resumed discussing the research direction of spell patterns with Bronson.
It wasn't until noon, when the lunch bell rang, that their conversation gradually subsided.
Swallowing to moisten his dry throat, Bronson finally remembered.
"Oh, right, Roland. Earlier, a servant named Matthew said you were looking for me. Was there something you needed?"
Hearing the question, Roland's mind flashed back to the scene he had witnessed in the forest that day:
The warriors of the Blazing Sun Church...
The Blood-Colored Goblin using magic...
And the enormous creature's remains that both sides had fought over.
(End of the Chapter)
Translator's Corner
🎁Read anywhere from 30-80 Chapters Ahead on the site for FREE!
🔓 𝐰𝐰𝐰.𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐥.𝐜𝐨𝐦 — 13 Series (7 Ongoing) | 14+ New Chapters Daily | 7,200+ FREE