The Unlucky Aether Particle

Understanding the Book of Vishanti did not mean the spells of the two worlds had no differences.

To convert all the white magic recorded in the Book of Vishanti into Spell Marks he was familiar with, even Lowett, now a Ten Saints Venerable, would need at least three to five years.

Silvery-white runes drifted from the book, sinking into the surrounding space like smoke and vanishing in the blink of an eye. It looked as though nothing had happened, but the space around them had already been solidified, awaiting reinforcement.

Looking at the Book of Vishanti glowing white in his hand, Lowett cast his spell while complaining.

"This reminds me of when I was still an apprentice... Red mage robes, a brown prism staff, golden spell stones, a blue-covered spellbook, a rainbow focus crown. I dressed like a circus clown."

Ancient One was taking out a crystal staff she had not used in a long time from another dimension. Her eyelid twitched at his words as she asked, half-seriously and half-jokingly.

"Do spells where you come from not require incantations?"

"Of course they do." Lowett paused, then smiled.

"Equipment, gestures, syllables—nothing can be left out. Some even require calculations of the sun and moon's trajectories and spatial coordinates to adjust a spell's power. Oh, and elemental concentration too... Casting a spell was like an advanced math competition. Complicated as hell."

"I certainly couldn't tell..."

Ancient One rolled her eyes.

But she did not dwell on it. Ever since Lowett had first descended into this world, Ancient One had known there were differences between their spells.

Their spellcasting required "conditions." There had to be a one before there could be a two. Without fulfilling those conditions, no amount of power mattered.

But he directly controlled Spell Marks with his soul, creating