Spellcaster

The cloaked figure came to the bedside. His black cloak began to stir without wind, as though some invisible force swirled around him. He slowly raised both hands, his slender fingers tracing complex paths through the air and leaving behind pale blue trails of light.

The Tavern Owner involuntarily took several steps back, his eyes wide. He had seen spellcasters before, but never witnessed a spell being cast from such close range.

The cloaked figure murmured an obscure incantation, his voice like an undercurrent beneath ice—cold and deep. As the chant continued, the light at his fingertips gradually changed from blue to white, like winter noon sunlight shining upon snow, so dazzling that it was impossible to keep one's eyes open. The Tavern Owner had to raise a hand to shield them.

Amid the radiance, the cloaked figure seemed exceptionally tall. He swept both hands forward, and the light slowly descended until it completely sank into the patient's body.

"Ah..." The thief on the bed let out a heart-rending scream, his body convulsing violently. Countless tiny ice crystals surfaced across his skin before rapidly melting into vapor that rose into the air. The temperature in the entire room plummeted, and a thin layer of frost formed over the walls and floor.

The Tavern Owner's teeth chattered as he watched in terror.

The cloaked figure did not move at all. Beneath his hood, his eyes flickered with runes even more intricate than before. He softly uttered the final syllable: "Purify."

The thief's body suddenly arched, then crashed heavily back onto the bed. A wisp of black frigid air sprayed from his mouth...

The room returned to calm. The thief's complexion had returned to normal, though he still looked extremely pale. His chest rose and fell steadily, as though he had fallen into a deep sleep.

"He needs rest. The cold energy has been expelled, but his body is still weak," the cloaked figure said flatly.

The Tavern Owner hurried forward and touched his companion's forehead, delighted to find that his temperature had returned to normal. "Thank you so much, my lord! You saved his life!"

"Take me to that cave. In return, the Nishang Grass is mine, and the Ice Leopard is yours."

The Tavern Owner nodded repeatedly. "Of course, of course! I'll go make preparations right away, but..." He hesitated. "My lord, that Ice Leopard is no ordinary magical beast. We may need two or three days to prepare..."

The cloaked figure fell silent for a moment before saying, "I hope this can be done as soon as possible. I have a patrol assignment with the army before long."

"A patrol with the army?" the Tavern Owner asked in confusion, though he had already formed a guess.

"I am the Border Mage for this stretch of frontier. Once you are ready, come find me at the Barracks. Just say you are looking for Mage Jialan."

Just as I thought! The Tavern Owner inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. He doesn't look very old, yet he silently subdued a Peak Junior warrior just now. He is clearly no apprentice mage. Only the military could produce such an outstanding mage. Since he has a military background, we won't have to worry about him turning on us when the time comes.

At that thought, the Tavern Owner's smile became even broader. "When the time comes, I'll personally come invite you, my lord."

The cloaked figure nodded, then took his leave and departed from the tavern.

Mage Jialan's real name was Jialan Grant. As for his name in his previous life, there was no need to mention it. When his consciousness had first arrived in this world, he had still been a newborn infant. Not long afterward, his father, a low-ranking officer of the Empire, died on the battlefield. Soon after, his mother left him as well, succumbing to illness. He was then sent to an orphanage for the children of fallen soldiers.

Because his young body housed an adult soul, his spiritual power had been quite high from an early age. In the end, he was found to possess the talent to become a spellcaster and was sent to the Imperial Magic Academy to study magic.

From the age of six until he became an official mage at eighteen, the orphanage for the children of fallen soldiers had no obligation to continue funding his education. In order to advance further along the path of magic, he answered the Empire's call and officially became a Border Mage.

He was now a Junior First-Tier Mage. When he signed a contract with the Empire to become a Border Mage, he received a method to advance to the intermediate rank. Across the continent, advancement methods for nearly all professions were incomparably precious. The price he had to pay was ten years of service as a Border Mage, or killing three enemy mages of the same rank on the battlefield, or training two official mages for the Empire.

The frontier where he currently served lay in the Empire's northern borderlands, adjoining the Misty Forest. Because the Empire's territory was so vast, the area his unit had to defend exceeded two hundred square kilometers. Yet the entire unit had barely more than a hundred people, including blacksmiths, cooks, laborers, and the like. Only seventy or eighty were actual combatants.

He was the only spellcaster in the entire unit. It was only because this place bordered the Misty Forest, where magical beasts often appeared, that the Empire had assigned a mage to guard it. Spellcasters were already exceedingly rare in this world, truly one in ten thousand. The Holy See claimed a large portion, the Mage Guild took nearly half of what remained, and some chose to become wandering mages. Very few were left for the Empire's military.

Most spellcasters did not focus on training their bodies. Though they possessed many mysterious and powerful spells, their physiques were no different from ordinary people's. In fact, many spellcasters became absorbed in meditation and neglected physical training, leaving them even frailer than ordinary people. Mage Jialan was different from them, but he was not much stronger than an ordinary person.

Traveling through snow was difficult. By the time he returned to his post, more than two hours had passed. He did not live in the Barracks, but in a small wooden cabin about half a li away. The Barracks were too disorderly, making them unsuitable for a mage's meditation and experiments.

The small cabin was built from birch wood. Its furnishings were simple, though the modest room held many items. A large wooden bed stood against the inner left wall, covered in a thick layer of animal hides.

On the right was a large table, with a high-backed chair before it, also covered in thick animal hides. A pen rack sat atop the table. In front of it stood a row of short glass bottles engraved with magical script, containing special inks for writing, mixed from the blood of various magical beasts, magical powder, medicinal herbs, and other materials.

The mage walked straight to the table, tidied the somewhat cluttered desk, then removed his boots and sat in the chair to begin Shallow Meditation.

Meditation was divided into two main types:

The first was Shallow Meditation. While meditating, one could maintain the greatest possible awareness of the outside environment and forcibly end the meditation without harming the meditator's mind or body. Its drawback was that the results were poor.

The second was Deep Meditation. During Deep Meditation, spellcasters could not maintain awareness of the outside environment, nor could they end their meditation whenever they wished. Only once the time predetermined by the meditator's subconscious had arrived could they regain awareness of the outside world.

If someone else forcibly woke them, the damage to the meditator would be immense. Usually, they would permanently lose part of their spiritual power or magic power; in severe cases, they might even drop a rank. However, Deep Meditation was three to five times as effective as the former.