Self-Control Is Power

Self-Control Is Power

"Ah, you can see it. Interested in opening it and taking a look inside?" Evenson asked Melinda with a wicked grin.

"I..." Melinda was clearly tempted by the suggestion. What had just happened was still vivid in her mind. Two Senior Agents armed with guns had been effortlessly taken down, while all the other party had done was say a single word. Such an ability was immensely tempting to a field agent who lived alongside death. And according to Evenson, the requirements for learning Magic were extremely demanding, yet she happened to possess the talent for it. A saying from her hometown immediately came to mind: "If Heaven grants you something and you refuse it, you will suffer the consequences."

Just as Melinda was about to agree, Coulson grabbed her hand and stopped her. "May, you don't have the authority to do that." That was right—she lacked the authority. Even if opening the book did not bring about the danger Evenson had described, merely taking the initiative to make contact with supernatural power was already against S.H.I.E.L.D.'s regulations.

But Melinda did not see it that way. "Maybe I can learn Magic—learn an ability like the one from earlier. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs this kind of power. The Director will agree."

Nick Fury had always been the sort to pursue his goals until he achieved them. To put it bluntly, he would stop at nothing. He also firmly believed in the idea that only those who held swords could preserve peace. Coulson understood that very well. Although the overall number of Mutants was not large at present, it was growing. These people with special abilities could easily cause enormous trouble, and dealing with them was extremely dangerous, sometimes even involving casualties. Perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. should also equip itself with agents possessing special abilities. They used superpowers against us; we would use Magic to punish them. With that thought, Coulson released Merlin's hand, making it clear that he would not interfere.

The two agents had reached an agreement, but Evenson shook his head and refused. "You aren't qualified."

"What? Why?" Melinda did not understand, and she was even a little angry. If she had given up herself, that would have been one thing. But being rejected and deemed unqualified infuriated this fiercely competitive woman. "I can see that book. I'm qualified." Her voice was low and restrained.

"That only proves that your Mental Power is strong and that you have the potential to be initiated. It does not mean you are qualified to learn Magic." Evenson was very blunt.

"How will we know unless we try?" Melinda stubbornly persisted.

"Someone who is truly qualified, like me, wouldn't just stare blankly at the cover." Right. When he had first seen the book, he had not stared blankly at its cover—he had planned to use blood to bind it as his master. Sigh, what a dark history.

"And..." Evenson interlaced his fingers before his mouth. "Haven't you noticed that your current state is very strange?"

"Strange? What's strange about it?" Melinda did not understand what Evenson meant.

"An agent who did not believe Magic existed before coming here is now craving this power so desperately."

"Craving...?" Melinda was confused. Before coming here, she had already decided that this would be her last field assignment. Afterward, she would become a desk worker. But why had she just wanted that power as though possessed, even persuading herself to violate regulations?

"Your Mental Power is strong, so you can see that book. But at the same time, you've been influenced by it. It has stirred up your greed for power. And you lack the most important quality required to become a Sorcerer—restraint."

Many people, especially the mages of Dalaran, believed that becoming a Sorcerer was not difficult. They thought all one needed was enough evil and greed. In truth, that was complete nonsense. The Magic wielded by Sorcerers was far more dangerous than that of other spellcasters. Fel energy was far more violent than fire Magic, shadow was more incomprehensible and bizarre than mysterious arcane arts, and commanding a horde of demons was unquestionably harder than commanding a water elemental.

Therefore, to master such dangerous Magic, what one needed most was caution and restraint. Only then could one use power without being harmed by it, and ensure that one remained the master of power and demons rather than their slave. Of course, some Sorcerers became excessively greedy, demanding without limit and coveting power beyond the limits of their control. Their endings were usually tragic. Most were killed outright by those powers, while some became shells and vessels for power. They might become very strong, but by then they were no longer themselves. So let it be emphasized again: if you want to become a Sorcerer—if you want to remain alive and retain yourself while becoming a powerful Sorcerer—you must understand this: restrain yourself. Self-control is power.

"So... what would happen if I opened that book...?" Melinda's expression was somewhat ugly. She had not expected to be led astray by a book, even if it was a magic book.

"You would pour all your attention into it and stare at the book in a daze. Because of the book, no one would notice you. Even if you stood right in front of them, they would subconsciously ignore what you were doing, until you starved to death. And throughout the process, you wouldn't understand a single word in the book or learn anything at all." As he described something so terrifying, Evenson suddenly smiled. "Ha, that would actually be the better outcome. Since you wouldn't understand it, you wouldn't be skinned alive."

"That does sound nice," Melinda said, though her tone did not sound remotely relieved. But she was more concerned about something else now. "How long will it last? How long will this book's influence over me remain?"

"It ends here. It tested you, and you failed. Although you paid no price, it will not give you another chance, nor will it reveal itself before you again." Clearly, because Melinda's Mental Power was higher than that of ordinary people, she had been influenced by the Compendium of Warlock Spells. Although it contained only formulas and exercises, a magic book was read with the eyes, but understood through will; its exercises were done with the hands, but grasped through thought—the will and thoughts of the person who wrote it. By solving the exercises and calculating the formulas, the reader came to understand the writer's will and thoughts, thereby learning from them. Put simply, it was like one of those all-in-one guides: click wherever you did not understand, and then you would grasp the writer's meaning and learn Magic. For those without talent, however, while none of the dangers Evenson had fabricated would occur, the words in the book would be nothing more than dead words—impossible to understand and utterly unreasonable. They would become hopelessly engrossed and ultimately gain nothing, while the book would vanish from their sight forever. So if you were not qualified, you were not qualified. Forget using blood to bind it as your master—even if you severed an artery and splashed it with a basinful of blood, it would be useless.

"That's wonderful. I didn't want to see it again anyway." This time, Melinda was genuinely relieved.

"Alright, I think it's time to ask the final question." Seeing that the matter had ended, Coulson felt it was time to bring this strange conversation to a close. Otherwise, if it continued, he felt his entire worldview might not survive.

P.S. The contract was successfully signed. There'll be an extra update tomorrow—probably, maybe, perhaps.