Magic Runes

After Roland first went to the blacksmith shop to ask Hawk for half a day off, he hurried to that secluded little wooden house.

The door of the wooden house was ajar. He called out before pushing it open, and the scene before him tightened his heart.

Bronson was leaning weakly on the wooden bed, his already thin frame appearing even more gaunt.

His hair was messy, his beard unkempt, and his cheeks were smudged with dark marks like soot.

The long robe he always wore was now tattered, covered in fine scratches, and dotted with small holes that looked like they were burned by sparks.

However, what relieved Roland was that there was no blood or obvious wound on Bronson.

Although his face was haggard, a hint of fanaticism flickered in the scholar's eyes.

He was intently looking at the dagger Roland had personally forged, muttering to himself.

"Mister Bronson?"

"Roland?"

Hearing the call, Bronson finally shifted his gaze from the dagger.

Upon seeing Roland's clear and handsome face, he excitedly sprang up from the wooden bed.

"Roland! Our previous deduction was correct, magic."

"Shh!"

Roland quickly raised his index finger to his lips, stopping Bronson before he could blurt out the rest.

Then, he lightly darted to the door, cautiously looking around. After confirming no one was eavesdropping, he slowly closed the door and returned to Bronson.

"Mister Bronson,"

Looking at the overly excited scholar before him, Roland helplessly lowered his voice.

"If you don't want to be considered a lunatic, lose the Baron's funding, and be kicked out of the manor, it's best to speak quietly when discussing magic."

"Ah! Right, right, right."

Hearing this, Bronson seemed to recall something, his expression faltered, but then he nodded, hunched his back, and his voice dropped to a whisper.

"But Roland, the magic elements on the continent are indeed slowly recovering! Look at this."

Despite deliberately lowering his volume, the uncontrollable excitement was evident in his trembling voice.

He presented the strangely shaped dagger to Roland as if displaying a treasure.

The moment the dagger came closer, that familiar, strange feeling, as if he could sense the emotional fluctuations of fire, surged into his heart again.

Roland narrowed his eyes and examined it closely.

Compared to when he handed it to Bronson, the dagger hadn't changed much overall.

Only the cylindrical part in the middle was covered in fine, spiderweb-like cracks, and those intricate patterns were now emitting a strange blood-red glow.

"I successfully collected the Fire Element!"

"Collected. Fire Element?"

Roland frowned slightly.

Due to his lack of relevant knowledge, he couldn't fully grasp the difficulty of this operation.

But judging by the fervent light in Bronson's eyes, it was by no means a simple task.

"That's right! Watch this!"

Bronson impatiently began to demonstrate.

He carefully touched the flat tabletop with the tip of the dagger.

The instant the blade touched the wood, the hard tabletop slowly caved in as if it were butter under a hot knife.

Wisps of smoke rose, eventually leaving a thumb-sized scorched hole on the tabletop, its edges still glowing with dark red embers.

At the same time, the red light on the dagger's intricate patterns dimmed slightly.

Just as Roland was secretly startled by this strange phenomenon, Bronson had already begun to excitedly ramble on.

"Do you know, Roland? Even before the End Era, wizards had to use a unique method to draw elements from the air, and cast spells by activating the runes imprinted in the Deep Sea of Consciousness. But no matter what element, not a trace would remain in the body after casting a spell."

"But I!"

Bronson raised the dagger high, his voice involuntarily rising, his eyes flashing with an almost fanatical light.

"I have created spell patterns that can store magic elements! This is absolutely an epoch-making breakthrough!"

"Mister Bronson,"

Although Roland didn't want to pour cold water on his enthusiasm, he felt it was necessary to calm the excited scholar.

"According to your casting principle, even if these patterns can store magic elements, won't they still dissipate after casting? And,"

He took out a red crystal he had been keeping close to him.

"Isn't this kind of crystal formed by solidified magic elements also a way of storing them?"

"Completely different!"

Bronson became even more excited by this question.

"According to ancient texts, this kind of solidified magic element crystal only exists within monsters and cannot be manufactured artificially!"

"And when Wizards cast spells, they need to expend a large amount of Spirit Power to remove unnecessary impurities from the air."

"But my Magic Runes, which filters out unnecessary Magical Essences during the process of absorbing elements, doesn't require Spirit Power and can directly utilize the Magical Essences within."

Hearing this, Roland finally understood.

The spell patterns Bronson was researching were equivalent to a power bank with a filtering function.

It could purify mixed elements in the air into a single attribute and store them.

When casting a spell, one could directly extract refined Magical Essences from it, completely saving the consumption of Spirit Power.

If that were the case, it truly seemed like a great piece of research.

As he was lost in thought, Bronson's excited voice rang in his ears.

"Watch closely, Roland."

The scholar, who was gradually becoming frenzied, spoke, gripping a dagger with four fingers of his right hand, raising his arm, and extending his index finger forward.

The next moment, a fist-sized ball of fire suddenly appeared out of thin air and slowly condensed at his fingertip.

"Whoosh!"

With a sound of breaking through the air, the fireball shot out like an arrow.

"Bang!"

After a dull thud, a scorched indentation was left on the thick wooden wall.

Seeing this, Roland was slightly stunned. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly heard a crisp cracking sound.

Turning his head, he saw that the dagger in Bronson's hand had shattered inch by inch, and metal fragments scattered all over the floor.

An eerie silence fell upon the room.

"Mister Bronson."

Roland was the first to break the silence.

"Was that... magic just now?"

It wasn't that he was blind, but the power of that fireball was worlds apart from what the Blood Goblins could unleash.

"Uh, strictly speaking..."

Bronson coughed lightly. The previous fervor had vanished, and he returned to his usual reserved demeanor.

"That was just a Cantrip, known as Flame Arrow in ancient texts."

"A Cantrip?"

"Yes, according to ancient texts, magic is divided into Cantrips and Spells, and Spells are further divided into nine tiers."

Roland thoughtfully recalled memories from his past life.

"So, Cantrips are just the most basic applications of magic?"

"That's an accurate way to put it."

"Then, how long did it take you to gather these Magical Essences?"

"About... ten days?"

"So, was that the first time you used this Spell Pattern to cast a Cantrip just now?"

"No, it was the second time."

Bronson's voice grew quieter and quieter until it was barely audible.

"Ten days to charge, and two Cantrips rendered the dagger useless? And that doesn't even include the time I spent forging this dagger."

Roland's enthusiasm, which had just been ignited, instantly cooled down.

But on second thought, he felt that Bronson's spell pattern design actually had considerable potential.

After all, this was only the preliminary research result.

If he could continue to delve deeper, shorten the charging time, reduce the wear and tear on the tools caused by the spell patterns, and enable it to cast spells multiple times...

Even the most basic Cantrip would significantly boost combat capabilities.

After all, judging from Bronson's demonstration just now, using Magic Runes to cast a Cantrip seemed to consume very little Spirit Power.

After a moment of contemplation, Roland asked.

"Mister Bronson, can I learn that kind of Cantrip?"

"Of course."

Bronson nodded gently.

"The knowledge related to Cantrips is not within the restrictions the Tower imposed on me."

"Then I believe..."

Roland paused and encouraged him.

"Mister Bronson, although your research results are currently incomplete, the potential for development is vast."

"You're right!"

Hearing this, Bronson's spirits lifted, and the fighting spirit reignited in his eyes.

"As long as I continue to study, one day..."

At this point, Bronson's expression faltered.

"Uh, but it seems I'm running out of research funds."

"Recently, due to the conflict in the Black Fir Forest, Baron Foslin has rejected my requests for research funding several times. And when I just returned, I demonstrated it to Baron Foslin, but he..."

Bronson scratched his head and said somewhat awkwardly.

"He said what I performed was just circus acrobatics. He even flew into a rage over it and further reduced my research funds."

"Acrobatics?"

Thinking about it, Roland recalled that before the Heavenly Father's celebration, there were indeed acrobats performing similar techniques in the village where he was staying.

But he was sure.

Roland looked at the black hole emitting a faint wisp of smoke on the wooden wall.

The opponent's technique definitely wouldn't have this effect.

However, he also understood Baron Foslin's thinking.

After all, magic had disappeared for hundreds of years, and the world had long lost its understanding of this mysterious art.

Not to mention that what Bronson was performing was a cantrip, which bore some resemblance to acrobatics.

With this in mind, Roland pondered for a moment before slowly speaking.

"If this spell pattern were to be further improved, how much money would you need per month?"

"Not much, not much!"

Sensing the hidden meaning in Roland's words, Bronson rubbed his palms together and slowly held up three fingers.

"Three silver coins will be enough!"

"Because the Magical Essences are gradually recovering, I've found that even without relying on solid objects, the spell patterns can produce effects. Although the effect is greatly reduced, it doesn't significantly impact the research."

"Three silver coins?"

It was still somewhat bearable.

Roland calculated inwardly.

He was currently working as a Blacksmith Apprentice and earned nearly one silver coin per month. Combined with the five silver coins remaining in his pocket, it would be enough for Bronson to research for two months.

As for after two months...

He was planning to go to the Adventurer's Guild to take on bounties for killing monsters and see how much he could earn then.

With this thought, Roland cleared his throat lightly.

"Mister Bronson, I can fund your continued research, but..."

"But what?"

Bronson immediately leaned forward, gazing at him eagerly.

His face, etched with a few wrinkles, was filled with anticipation, looking both comical and a bit pitiful.

"I need you to share all your research findings with me without reservation and assist me with any research I require."

"No problem! But..."

Bronson tugged at the corner of his mouth, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Do you still stand by your promise to be my assistant? It's not that I want to be lazy."

As if afraid Roland would misunderstand, he quickly explained.

"It's just that with your help, my research speed will increase significantly. Isn't that good for both of us?"

"No problem, I'll be staying at the manor for the next few days anyway."

As he spoke, Roland reached into his embrace, took out his coin purse, fumbled for three silver coins, and handed them to Bronson.

As for whether Bronson would deceive him, Roland had his own thoughts.

If Bronson deceived him, he would only lose a small amount of money. With his constantly growing skills and strength, earning money would become increasingly easy and simple.

But if Bronson genuinely dedicated himself to research and successfully improved this spell pattern, or even developed other types of spell patterns, it would be a significant improvement to his strength, given his current lack of offensive capabilities.

Moreover, Bronson possessed many hidden treasures worth exploring.

For example, those ancient texts written in unfamiliar scripts.

Although he didn't have the time to study them now, he would definitely seek his guidance in the future.

Establishing a long-term collaboration with this eccentric scholar seemed like a surefire profitable venture.

At this thought, Roland suddenly recalled a problem.

"By the way, Mister Bronson, I remember you asked me to make that dagger, and it seemed to be before the resurgence of Magical Essences, right?"

"Uh, that..."

Hearing this question, Bronson put the coins into his pocket neatly while saying somewhat awkwardly.

"You might not know this, Roland, but anyone who can enter the Tower for advanced studies possesses a natural affinity for a certain element."

"So, in the beginning, I actually intended to use my own blood for the experiment."

"Elemental Affinity."

Hearing this familiar phrase, Roland couldn't help but recall the Trait of the [Heart of the Furnace].

"Doesn't that mean that I, with an affinity for Fire Elements, also have the potential to become a Wizard?"

Suppressing this somewhat unrealistic thought for the moment, Roland then discussed the research direction of Magic Runes with Bronson.

It wasn't until noon, with the sound of the lunch bell, that the two gradually stopped talking.

After swallowing a mouthful of saliva to moisten his somewhat dry throat, Bronson finally reacted.

"Oh right, Roland, a servant named Matthew mentioned earlier that you were looking for me. Was there something you needed?"

Hearing the question, Roland's mind couldn't help but recall the scene he saw in the jungle that day.

Warriors of the Blazing Sun Church.

Blood Goblins using magic.

And the remains of a giant creature that both sides were fighting over.