Spellcasting Tool (Part 1)

Merlin had imagined what it would be like to meet Old Wilson many times, deducing various situations that might occur, but now that the meeting had truly arrived, his heart felt very calm.

"Merlin, why are you here?"

Old Wilson quickly jumped down from his horse and walked with large strides to Merlin's side, his gaze revealing deep paternal affection.

Merlin had to tilt his head up slightly to gaze at Old Wilson, because Old Wilson was exceptionally tall, close to two meters in height, with a broad back and a waist like a bear's. The moment he drew close to Merlin, a wave of pungent bloodlust rushed straight toward his face.

"Father, did you run into bandits?"

Merlin didn't rush to answer, instead asking in return.

Old Wilson gently slid his blood-stained greatsword back into its scabbard, speaking with utter indifference, "I merely ran into a few petty bandits, but I killed them all. They pose no threat. Come, let's go inside and talk in detail."

Thus, Merlin followed Old Wilson into the castle. With a servant's help, Old Wilson unbuckled his heavy black armor. Merlin saw two or three servants struggling heavily to lift the armor, and deep shock stirred within his heart—the black armor on Old Wilson's body weighed at least three hundred catties.

For an ordinary person, wearing nearly three hundred catties of heavy armor meant movement was out of the question; simply enduring it for any length of time was already a problem. Yet Old Wilson was able to wear it, moving not only with complete ease but also engaging in combat, which vividly demonstrated just how outstanding his physical constitution truly was.

Originally, Merlin had assumed Old Wilson was merely a Level-Two Flame Swordsman, but looking at it now, Old Wilson was far from as simple as he appeared on the surface. If he were solely a Level-Two Flame Swordsman, it would have been utterly impossible for him to wear such crushing heavy armor.

Aside from being a Level-Two Flame Swordsman, Old Wilson was also blessed with extraordinary natural gifts; his physical constitution was exceptionally formidable, and his raw strength was terrifyingly great—even his pure physical strength surpassed that of a Second-Level Elemental Swordsman.

No wonder Father was able to survive the war in the Black Moon Kingdom known as the slaughterhouse, accumulating massive military merits and ultimately becoming a noble. His physical constitution is his greatest reliance!

Merlin could now sense countless fire elements frantically surging into Old Wilson's body. Old Wilson should already have reached the peak of a Level-Two Flame Swordsman, awaiting only a single opportunity to perhaps become a Level-Three Flame Swordsman!

As for Old Wilson's true strength, Merlin was unable to perceive it, yet he believed that coupled with Old Wilson's terrifyingly great strength, facing at least a Level-Three Elemental Swordsman, he ought not to find himself at a disadvantage.

Led by the female housekeeper, Old Wilson went into his room to bathe. Before long, Old Wilson emerged from the room into the hall, having changed his clothes and looking full of vigor.

By now, Old Wilson had cast off his black armor. The fierce, bloodthirsty aura that had clung to his person had vanished entirely, and his whole demeanor appeared remarkably peaceful. He walked over to Merlin, gently patted Merlin's shoulder, and looked him up and down. A look of satisfaction appeared on his face as he smiled slightly and said, "Not bad, you've grown this sturdy. Now you look like my son!"

It was clear that Old Wilson was extremely pleased with the improvement in Merlin's physique. After all, anyone who had seen the frail state of Merlin's body in the past would hardly dare believe he could be Old Wilson's son.

"That's right, Merlin, you aren't in Blackwater City—what are you doing out here in the fief? Did something happen at home?"

A cold glint flashed across Old Wilson's eyes, and the peaceful aura from just a moment ago seemed to turn berserk in an instant.

Fortunately, Merlin's mental power was already quite formidable, allowing him to control his own emotions so that he remained unaffected by the shock of Old Wilson's berserk pressure.

"Father, nothing is wrong at home. It's just that the City Lord intends to invite all the nobles of Blackwater City to the City Lord's Manor to discuss matters concerning how to deal with the bandits, which is why I came to notify you."

Merlin explained the whole sequence of events in detail, causing Old Wilson to knit his brows and fall into deep thought.

After a long while, Old Wilson finally raised his head and said indifferently, "The small towns surrounding Blackwater City have basically all suffered from bandit harassment. What's strange, however, is that none of the small towns have suffered devastating destruction, as though these bandits aren't out for pillaging at all. They must have some other objective."

"Regardless of how that may be, these bandits must be driven away; otherwise, the small towns around Blackwater City and the fiefs of many nobles won't have a single day of peace. When I went out on patrol a few days ago, I only ran into a small faction of bandits—at most a dozen or so—and their strength wasn't very great either. My heavy armored knights completely wiped them out, but those large hordes of bandits have hidden themselves away in some secret location and haven't been found to this day."

"If we can gather the strength of all the nobles in Blackwater City to act in a unified alliance, dealing with these bandits will be much easier. By the way, did Ogdin say when the discussion would take place?"

"Probably the day after tomorrow," Merlin replied indifferently.

"The day after tomorrow? Very well. If we set off tomorrow, we should still be able to make it in time. Merlin, we'll set off back to Blackwater City tomorrow."

Old Wilson made his decision swiftly. It seemed the threat posed by these bandits was indeed substantial, causing even Old Wilson to feel it was difficult to handle and necessitating the combined strength of all the nobles in Blackwater City to drive them out.

Early the next morning, Merlin awakened from his slumber. At this time, the sky was just beginning to grow bright, but servants were already bustling about.

Merlin put on his clothes, stepped out of his room, and went straight downstairs.

Old Wilson had not yet woken up. Merlin glanced up at Old Wilson's room, recalling how last night, he had vaguely seen the stunning female housekeeper quietly slip into Old Wilson's room.

Merlin shook his head, casting the chaotic thoughts in his mind aside, and turned his gaze toward a section of the wall outside the castle. He remembered that last night, the source of that strange wind had been right beneath that mottled section of the wall.

"Young Master Merlin!"

Many of the guards and servants in the castle already recognized Merlin, and they bowed respectfully one after another. Merlin nodded and smiled in return, walking straight out of the castle.

"Hoo..."

The winter morning was still very cold. A light snow had fallen the night before, leaving the ground somewhat slick.

Merlin looked around and, finding no one else nearby, proceeded directly toward the wall. Before long, he arrived at the spot where the strange wind had appeared the previous day. The ground here was exceptionally flat, having been forcefully scraped smooth by that gust of wind last night.

"It's right here."

Merlin reached the corner of the wall and quietly squatted down. The peculiar spell fluctuation he had sensed yesterday ought to be right beneath this section of the wall.

The soil beneath the wall was moist and not particularly hard, so Merlin directly reached out and began carefully scraping away the surface layer of earth.

After a short while, amidst the damp soil, Merlin touched a hard, intensely cold object.

"This is the spellcasting tool?"

Joy surged in Merlin's heart. Without caring what the object in his hand actually looked like, he wrapped it directly in a strip of cloth he had prepared in advance, and then returned to the castle as if nothing had happened.