Preparing to Leave, Deducing Spells

East Blue, Shells Town.

"Alright, the wound has scabbed over. Eat bland food, get plenty of rest, and go to bed and wake up early for the next ten days to half a month, and you'll be fine."

An obscure East Blue branch didn't have a dedicated military hospital. No one knew what those part-time military doctors did before, and anything could happen except they wouldn't kill you.

So, this was the medical clinic in Shells Town.

"Thanks, Doctor!"

Lowett sat up from the recliner, grabbed a shirt from the side, and put it on, buttoning it up.

"You're welcome, I'm a doctor after all."

Rustle...

After washing his hands clean in a basin of clear water, the doctor, who was around fifty years old, pondered for a moment before walking to the medicine cabinet and starting to prescribe medicine for Lowett.

"Did you know..."

He suddenly spoke.

"Hm?"

Lowett was taken aback.

"The steel cat's claws used by the pirate Kuro are thicker than ordinary blades and much narrower... so they wouldn't leave such smooth, neat wounds on a severed limb."

As his voice fell, the atmosphere in the small clinic suddenly became heavy.

The afternoon sun slanted through the doorway, casting light on the wall. It was dry and sweltering.

Under the bright sun, there were few pedestrians on the street; they had all retreated indoors to escape the heat. Accompanied by the seemingly tireless chirping of cicadas in the treetops, the large town felt so... lifeless at this moment.

But a chill...

always permeated this sickroom, separated only by a screen, which should have been hot.

Necromancy · Ghost Hand!

A patch of ink appeared on the floor behind the doctor, and a pale, skeletal arm with an ominous aura emerged from it, slowly reaching for his ankle.

The middle-aged doctor seemed oblivious to this, still carefully selecting medicines.

"The young lads at the branch aren't fighting the Black Cat Pirates for the first time, and neither am I... dealing with severed limbs."

"This kind of wound... reminds me of Colonel Skinner. His sword was very fast, and he most liked to disable pirates by severing their limbs, capturing them alive."

That's why Lowett disliked lying; one lie often required another to perfect it, endlessly.

"You shouldn't have told me this."

The bone claw was already close. At this distance, unless one possessed the insidious movement speed of "Hundred Plans" Kuro, escape was impossible.

As long as the bone claw scratched the skin, the poison and curse it carried would, like the saliva of a Komodo dragon, continuously erode the prey's health, killing them invisibly.

"Why didn't you report me?"

Morgan didn't know the truth; Lowett was very sure of this. The soul fluctuations invisible to ordinary people were more apparent to a necromancer than the morning light.

"There's no need!"

He took a piece of straw paper, wrapped the medicine, and the middle-aged doctor slowly tied the string, stopping his actions.

"As long as a patient appears before me, I cannot possibly ignore them. Whether I tell them or not will not change the outcome... I am a doctor, you are a patient, nothing more."

"So, in your eyes now... I'm no longer a patient?"

Lowett grinned and asked coldly.

Unexpectedly, the doctor nodded decisively.

"Yes."

"I have already healed you!"

Lowett was speechless.

"...So get out of this town, pirate!"

For the sake of reproduction and continuing life, the summer cicadas still chirped on, unaware of their fate.

The doctor didn't turn around, but a gust of wind suddenly sounded in his ears.

Rustle!

The wide cloak of Justice, pulled by the strong wind, flapped noisily. He felt his hand lighten as the prepared medicine disappeared.

When he looked up again, the white coat was only a corner at the door, and then it too quickly vanished.

Hoo...

Looking at the wall, which reflected the sunlight and became increasingly dazzling, he sighed deeply.

"Pirates, Navy... When will this life ever end!"

After saying this, his tense nerves relaxed, and the middle-aged doctor's clothes were instantly soaked with cold sweat. His vision darkened.

In the evening, his family, who were waiting for him to come home for dinner, noticed he was late. Curious, they went to the clinic to check and found the old man sitting in his chair, a smile on his lips, having passed away peacefully.

"Probably worked himself to death? Doctor Sheldon he..."

"Said he died of sudden heart failure, a doctor can't even heal himself!"

"Such a good person! He was fine just yesterday..."

The neighbors discussed.

"It's time to prepare for my departure!"

Deep in the forest, in a hidden natural cave.

Lowett was sewing Colonel Skinner's right hand onto a Zombie Puppet's body, letting it stand up and take a few steps to get used to its new limb.

For an ordinary Spell Apprentice, ten days was barely enough to grasp a basic rune. Runes were visualized spell patterns developed by mages to educate their disciples, a shortcut that made it impossible to even think about increasing spiritual power.

The journey from a "Spell Apprentice" understanding magic to a "Mage Apprentice" mastering it typically took over a decade for most people, which was why the mages were in such a hurry.

But for Lowett, who held the title of "Black Count," the learning process could be entirely skipped.

Ten days were enough for him to traverse the path that others needed over a decade to accumulate knowledge and understand magic, reaching the true ocean of magic.

He himself possessed the knowledge reserve and casting ability of the "Number One Under the Ten Saints," but his performance was limited by his soul's condition.

Working for others was out of the question.

As the price for living in anonymity, he, a Navy Ensign, had no rank or prospects, and his movement was even restricted.

Therefore, leaving was inevitable.

The doctor's words had merely prompted him to speed up his preparations.

"Pirates?"

"I thought the biggest difficulty at the start would be this severed arm, but I didn't expect my identity to be the most troublesome thing."

Lowett's eyes darkened, and he gave a self-deprecating smile.

"Oh well!"

After all, once his Necromancy was exposed, he would only have two choices...

"Right now, I can only use Half-Star Mana spells without any burden. My mental capacity has barely touched the threshold of an Elementary Mage... So I can't force my way through, I need to leverage the situation and find the right moment."

Controlling the puppets as they fought each other like clumsy bears to assess their combat capabilities, Lowett closed his eyes in thought.

"With 27 undead cooperating with spells, there aren't many people in the East Blue who can threaten me, but the battlefield is an unfamiliar ocean. With limited means of movement, I can only be passively beaten... What should I do?"

Build a ship in the depths of the forest with the undead?

How foolish!

"It seems I still have to rely on the warship from Branch 153."

"Let me see..."

Saying that, Ron parted the fighting undead, held his breath, and withdrew his thoughts into his Soul Sea.

"Soul Sea" was just a name, a conceptual space that mages transformed their consciousness into through magical means, making it explorable.

It wasn't an ocean that contained souls, nor was it even something that actually existed.

Different schools of magic had different names for the Soul Sea, given the rivalries between mage academies... Heh!

Rumble!

When his vision brightened again, Lowett found himself in a vast universe.

In the pitch-black world, countless shattered "mirror" fragments drifted about, reflecting Lowett's pale face in the apocalyptic lightning.

Those were Lowett's original souls... or rather, pieces of them.

In the storm of time and space, his soul had been torn into thousands of pieces awaiting decomposition.

Fortunately, the compatibility with this body was very high, and before the main consciousness dissipated, he was pulled out.

To piece all these soul fragments back together... Honestly, Lowett had never encountered such a situation and didn't know to what extent he could recover.

In this dream-like world, where up and down, left and right, time and space were indistinguishable, a bright orb floated at the center. This was the quantitative display of Lowett's mental power.

It worked on the same principle as a car's fuel gauge.

In his prime, this orb had been as large as the entire world, illuminating this space brightly, vast and boundless!

Now, only this head-sized corner remained, dim and lusterless.

"Start simulation, calculate all usable Half-Star and One-Star spells!"

Lowett skillfully placed his hand on the orb, emptying his mind.

Why are mages considered monsters whose spirit transcends their physical body?

The "spirit" here wasn't "spiritual power," but their "self-awareness."

For mages, as long as there was a need, not only their bodies but even their souls were tools that could be utilized!

Just like Lowett was now using his magical knowledge to perform simulations in his Soul Sea.

Mages were rigorous, calm, and would stop at nothing to explore the other shore of truth, reaching a level of cruelty, coldness, and inhumanity.

In reality, mages stopped considering themselves human long ago.

Theoretically speaking, once a soul evolves to the level of a formal mage, it truly has nothing to do with "humanity" anymore.

This is an evolution of life form!

"Mage" is a race name in itself.

Therefore, while necromancy is seen as dark and evil by ordinary people, within mage circles, it's no different from being a chef or a butcher...

Well, that's not exactly a good comparison either.

Several millennia-long wars dragged countless people into the fray, and it's only because... the necromancers are good fighters that they aren't universally reviled.

We researchers are the best fighters!

Logic be damned, we're still right..jpg

In short, mages are a group of individuals who have detached themselves from ordinary people, forming their own systems and living in their own little worlds.

Getting back to the main topic, the powerful mental energy boost allows a mage's brain to possess a computational limit far beyond human imagination. Their brains are comparable to computers, but that speed is often too much for the bodies that mages, who neglect physical training, can handle.

Furthermore, when deducing high-mana spells, one needs to find the single feasible solution among billions upon billions of possibilities. A few brains wouldn't be enough.

Thus, liches appeared, discarding their physical bodies to think with their souls.

Free from the limitations of the flesh, the stronger the mental power, the faster the computation speed, with no theoretical upper limit!

However, the drawbacks of being a lich are too obvious, and the mage world is not peaceful.

So, some began to try using their own souls as computational tools. The Soul Sea, from then on, transformed from a mere tool for checking one's soul state into mages' favorite private research laboratory.

In this state, by shielding the shackles of the physical body, mages can achieve computational speeds comparable to liches. When they exit this state, they can continue to enjoy the sense of security that comes with a physical body. It's simply perfect.

Limited by his soul state, Lowett naturally couldn't achieve his previous level, but half-star and one-star spells were effortless for him, and deducing them was extremely fast.

In a simulated state that placed absolutely no burden on his brain, spell after spell was rapidly listed by Lowett, each one silently recited.

"Resurrection-type Summoning: Bone March, Necrotic Realm Summoning: Bone Armor... Bone Evolution: Bone Fang Sword, Bone Magic: Bone Dissolution... Soul Magic: Vengeful Spirit Creation... Curse Magic: Pain Amplification, Acid Rain Prefix: Acidic Liquid Spell, Curse Plague Series: Carrion Black Crow... Hmm, the harvest is unexpectedly plentiful!"

Lowett chuckled.

After becoming the "Black Count," he rarely used these low-level spells meant for apprentices to practice on. The opponents worthy of his attention didn't require such measures.

With every gesture, he cast high-mana spells that ordinary people would consider miracles.

Now, forced to review this kindergarten-level knowledge due to his soul state, he felt a unique sense of... amusement mixed with disbelief.

Back then, I actually thought these spells were difficult enough to break my head over, or even cheat?

Ah, how embarrassing!

But these spells, though low in mana, are not useless. Take the half-star spell "Bone Dissolution" as an example. With a casting range starting at 10 meters, it can penetrate flesh protection to make the target's bones brittle, or even dissolve them on the spot.

It's much more convenient than soul magic for dealing with experimental subjects that resist but you don't want to kill.

Suddenly, Lowett's eyes snapped open.

"Almost forgot this one!"

Unlike Zombie Puppets, which can be stitched together at will, creating an arm that is highly compatible with one's soul requires the three-star mana Flesh Magic: Flesh Growth. Therefore, Lowett had no intention of reviewing low-level flesh magic in the short term.

If not for performing deductions today, he would have almost forgotten this skill that helped him stand out from a group of mage apprentices and become a disciple of the Musk family's descendants.

"One-star Flesh Magic: Crimson Fury!"

He softly uttered the name, a hint of nostalgia flashing in his eyes.

"This was the first spell I created..."

With that, he exited the Soul Sea and began chanting the incantation.

Hiss... hiss...

Eerie whistling sounds arose, his heart thudding "dong dong dong" at a frequency exceeding 200. Lowett's face instantly flushed an unnatural crimson.

But upon closer inspection, the scarlet hue wasn't from accelerated blood flow; it was countless tiny blood beads seeping from his skin, refracting light and dyeing his skin red.

The Zombie Puppets didn't know what was happening. They only felt the dangerous aura emanating from their master suddenly surge, causing them to roar uneasily and shuffle their feet.

They wanted to flee but didn't dare.

Retracting yesterday's words, the express delivery only came out today [manual facepalm]!

I managed to time it perfectly for a Monday release, thinking I'd get signed and change my status for recommendations by Friday. But first, the book release time was wrong, and the review took until the next day. Then, without prior notice to the editor, signing was delayed by another two days. Now, the express delivery is this slow. This...

However, speaking of which, in the two years I've been writing, I don't think I've ever succeeded once. Emmmmm... I've seen through the vanity of this world.

If you find this book good, remember to add it to your bookshelf to avoid losing it next time.

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