Nightmare

Talar Rune. Lister had drawn it hundreds of times on draft paper before he could reproduce this most important mage rune with precision. He was staying up late, grinding Dreamfoil, Silverleaf, and Earthroot. The fragrance of the three herbs nearly stole his breath, and even the skin of his fingers had been stained a pale white carrying the fresh scent of plants.

This was the simplest magical ink to make: Moonlight Ink. It was the key to creating runes. Runes needed a medium. Of course, one could choose to use mithril to draw a magic array, but the cost would be far too great. Many magic arrays were single-use items; there was no need to do that.

Lister impatiently began drawing the Talar Rune on smoked parchment with Moonlight Ink. Solemnly, he touched the quill, heavy with Moonlight Ink, to the parchment, and faint arcane power began to drift free.

He drew a deep breath, picked up a compass and set square, and began.

Hundreds of practices had made Lister intimately familiar with the Talar Rune. He could have guessed the process even with his eyes closed. Every circle represented a different degree of resonance with the arcane; every character represented a change in the direction of arcane energy's flow. Even as he drew, Lister could sense the power contained within it.

His movements were firm and meticulous. When he had completed all 105 runes, the palm-sized sheet of parchment immediately gave off an unusual charm. Lister had bestowed it with magic.

Lister gazed in amazement at his creation, delight shining in his eyes like a child seeing the world for the first time. He rubbed it and sniffed it, only coming back to himself some time later. Dawn had already arrived.

This was merely the tip of the vast iceberg that was runology. Runology was further divided into glyphs—inscriptions—and runes. Glyphs assisted one's own spellcasting, while runes directly restrained certain things in the outside world. All of this required the help of magical ink and alchemical techniques, while magical ink itself could not be separated from the study of herbalism.

It was a vast system, an extraordinarily vast system, link within link. Often, only after thoroughly studying the arcane could one create the corresponding runes. Otherwise, one simply could not properly grasp the power within them. A failed spell would first backlash upon its caster. Belo'vir had been incredibly fortunate that only his hair had stiffened rather than his muscles. Prolonged muscular rigidity could cause tissue necrosis; even the best outcome would be amputation. Those who wanted to use wrongly mixed potions in the right places could wash up and go to bed.

Lister placed the parchment on the table. There were still two hours until six, barely enough time for a nap. He set his alarm. Ebony Chill danced playfully through the air, circling the house like its master. If Lister failed to wake up, it would use Frostbolt to wake him.

"He hasn't learned Arcane Intellect, yet his capacity for learning is as frightening as if Arcane Intellect had been cast on him. If he takes another step forward, what will he become? Ebony Chill, is this your new master?"

If Lister had still been awake, he would have been scared half to death. An enormous phantom blue dragon floated outside the window. Other than Ebony Chill and its wielder, no one could see it.

Ebony Chill nodded, the ice crystals above it bending politely as they released wave after wave of special magical fluctuations. The other party nodded as it listened. "It seems he does not dislike frost spells. I thought he had never used you because he disliked you."

"The great Alodi has returned, seeking greater power. Tell me, Ebony Chill, has the Council considered what consequences granting such power to a mortal might bring? Hmm?"

"What if their beloved Guardian betrayed them? Just as at this very moment."

Ebony Chill released a series of fluctuations. Aeldagosa smiled, transformed into a gust of wind, and vanished into the air.

It was a long dream. Lister felt as though his soul had flown from his body. He had experienced something similar in dreams in his previous life—a true burst of inspiration. He drifted slowly through a patch of darkness. When he lowered his head, however, he abruptly saw an eye staring at him.

The eye bloomed within the darkness. Amid densely packed pink, fleshy tentacles bloomed an eye with a purple sclera and a black vertical pupil. It conveyed suspicion and curiosity, as well as puzzlement over how such a tiny thing could see it. Yet there was even more delight, and a chilling majesty. At that moment, the black-violet void energy even made Uther in the next room tense up in his sleep.

"Obey—" a hollow voice echoed through the darkness. "Me!"

Lister's mouth fell open. The terrible pressure left him completely unable to resist. He could only watch as tendrils of black-violet void power slowly invaded him, assimilated him, and dragged him down into the abyss. Even his thoughts were frozen by that horrifying power. His whole body was cold as ice, utterly powerless to fight back.

The next moment, countless green lights drove them back. A majestic female voice rebuked him above his head, "Get back into your cage!"

A massive green hand seized Lister by the shoulder. Lister spun around sharply and saw a tall half-man, half-stag being holding him, taking him away from the increasingly dense black abyss. Green light and black-violet energy tangled without end, while terrible tremors echoed through the dream world. Lister finally recovered from his shock and shouted, "You're Cenarius?!"

"Is she Ysera?" The colossal dragon that blotted out the sky above dipped its head slightly.

The demigod's eyes were full of astonishment. At that moment, bone-piercing cold swept in. Ebony Chill tore through the darkness and effortlessly took Lister from the demigod's grasp. Under Cenarius's startled gaze, the two returned to the real world.

Like someone finally waking after drowning, Lister felt endless exhaustion when he opened his eyes. He felt uncomfortable all over. He knew perfectly well that it had been C'Thun, Ysera, and Cenarius. He had never expected to stumble into the dream world by accident—and be discovered by C'Thun.

He gripped Ebony Chill tightly. Icy magic flowed through his entire body without discrimination, freezing even his bones. He had to inspect every inch of himself to prevent any lingering trick of the Old God.

It was an exceptionally wise precaution. After magic had been infused throughout his body, a wave of nausea suddenly hit him.

Uther, awakened by the void, pushed open the door. The devout priest stared in horror at a nightmare-like sight.

An eyeball frozen gray-white was vomited out by Lister. The black-red mucus wrapped with it inside a layer of transparent ice looked especially bizarre.

"It seems like a decent magical item." Lister dispelled the solid ice, washed the eyeball clean with alcohol, and directly destroyed the foul blood with flames.

He pinched the lifeless eyeball. The void power within had completely dissipated, leaving behind only a simple physical vessel. That trace of void power had merely been an insignificant fraction split off from C'Thun, less than a single hair from nine oxen. Yet its ability to corrupt Lister to such a degree was already enough to prove how terrifying it was.

Had it been an ordinary person, all their will would likely have been swallowed in an instant, and they would have completely become a pawn the Old God had buried in the world. Lister shook his head. This was why the Old Gods were so terrifying.

Even so, this eyeball contained C'Thun's source power. A thought suddenly came to Lister. Could this be another kind of qualitatively transformed energy? Qualitatively transformed void energy?

Uther took the eyeball. Brilliant light flared from his hand, but the eyeball did not react. The void energy inside had already been completely spent, so naturally it would not respond to the Holy Light.

"I advise you to throw it far, far away. This thing gives off a rather bad aura." Uther returned the eyeball to Lister. He did not want to touch it for another moment; all he wanted was to smash it to pieces. "Uh, perhaps this sounds unpleasant, but I advise you not to touch such evil things. Once someone gets shit on them, they can never wash it clean for the rest of their life."

"Do you remember, Uther? When we left Newman City, I obtained a Mage Eye." Lister tossed the eyeball into preservative fluid and carefully examined the large, lifeless eye. "Mage Eye is a spell developed according to the structure of eyes in the real world, combined with string theory. This is the eyeball of a magical creature I bought—a very powerful magical creature, an extraterrestrial lifeform. It will be of great help to my research on Mage Eye. I still haven't researched any new spells, so I need to speed things up."

Uther suddenly understood. Indeed, he had learned that many mage experiments were live experiments. Of course, at least Lister never did them in front of him, nor did he interfere with faith in the Holy Light. Compared to other mages, he was practically a saint—especially that boy named Nobo, who wanted to conjure Pyroblast after reading a few books. He was utterly mad.

"Then you should make good use of it. It would be best to find a few more to try your hand on." Uther stretched lazily. "If they aren't expensive, that is."

Perhaps this was the fundamental reason the Void stood opposed to the Holy Light.

"Oh, right. If you have time the day after tomorrow, go to the village. Everyone..." Before Uther could finish, Lister was already walking out the door with a slice of bread between his teeth. "If I have time, I'll go."

"Good heavens, there's no need to work yourself this hard." Uther shrugged.