Demon Hand

"Heh heh, I don't ask for much as your mentor. After all, I've already got one foot in the grave. If you have any questions, just ask!" Sanderson seemed to be in a very good mood.

"Sir, I bought a spellbook called Magic Hand at the library this morning, and I'd like to ask for your guidance." As Dean spoke, he hurriedly took out Magic Hand and handed it to Sanderson.

Somewhat surprised, Sanderson accepted Magic Hand. He knew this spellbook; it contained dark magic. He had assumed it wouldn't be circulating outside for some time yet, but someone had already bought it.

"Little fellow, I didn't expect you to have dark-affinity mana as well." Sanderson looked Dean over again. Thin and small, he was just an ordinary apprentice.

"I don't know whether it's a blessing or a curse, sir. So far, I haven't seen any benefits. Instead, it's only restricted me in other areas," Dean said, looking a little troubled.

Dean was a Mage with three affinities: darkness, fire, and Undead Affinity. Darkness accounted for the largest share, while fire and Undead Affinity made up only small portions. This was a constant source of frustration for him.

Generally, Mages would develop one affinity as their primary attribute and use the others as secondary attributes to support it.

Dean did the same, focusing on darkness with fire as support. As for Undead Affinity... sorry, but even dark-affinity spellbooks were pitifully scarce at Bru Magic Academy. Never mind Undead Affinity spellbooks—there weren't any at all.

Dark-affinity spellbooks were rare, and classes on the subject were few and far between. That was precisely what troubled Dean.

"I'm not particularly well versed in dark magic either. I can only offer you some explanations; you'll have to draw connections and apply what you learn yourself." Sanderson motioned for Dean to follow him and headed into the small room nearby.

The magical servant was still sweeping the floor. There was no one left in the courtyard.

"Little Dean, do you know what my primary attribute is?" Sanderson asked with a smile as soon as they entered.

"It should be wood, supported by ice and earth." Dean had been paying attention to Sanderson for quite some time, after all, so naturally he knew his mentor's attributes.

Their attributes were worlds apart, without a single one in common, but that was fine. Dean didn't mind that.

"That's right. My primary attribute is indeed wood." Sanderson nodded in satisfaction. It was no secret, but Dean clearly knew something about him and had still chosen him as a mentor despite their differing attributes.

Sanderson understood now. This was a lost little apprentice who desperately wanted guidance, hoping his mentor could point him toward the right... no, not necessarily the right path, just one he could actually follow.

"Let me take a look at this Magic Hand first." Sanderson sat down in the sparsely furnished room and casually opened the spellbook. Before long, he was engrossed in its pages.

Dean took the opportunity to look around. The room was mostly empty, with little furniture beyond a few chairs.

The whole room resembled a small testing ground—or rather, a place for magical experiments.

Here and there, the floor and walls bore traces of spells. They looked to have been there for years.

After looking around for a while, Dean heard Sanderson tapping his fingers against the wooden table. The sound was rhythmic, just like the tapping of the wooden staff he had leaned on earlier against the floor tiles.

"Little Dean, this spell... is rather unusual." Sanderson stopped tapping the table and found another target for his fingers, stroking his beard instead.

"If this copy of Magic Hand were incomplete, it would only be worth three to five Gold Coins. But this spellbook is actually complete. It would fetch several hundred Gold Coins at the very least!" Sanderson said with a sigh.

"However, the spell in this book can only be cast using dark magic. That severely limits who can use it."

Dean was stunned. He knew it was the complete version, but for it to be worth several hundred Gold Coins... At that thought, he swallowed hard.

"Heh, you really did stumble onto a bargain. The library probably saw that it was a dark spell with no clearly defined tier, didn't look too closely, and sold it cheaply." Sanderson shook his head with a smile.

Dean nodded eagerly. He was very pleased with this spellbook.

"Then let me ask you. There are three forms of Magic Hand here: the defense-oriented Dark Element Hand, the nimble Magic-Energy Hand, and the most brutal of the lot—Demon Hand. Which will it be?" Sanderson asked, setting down the spellbook.

Magic Hand was divided into three specific categories. There was the supportive, defense-oriented Dark Element Hand, then Magic-Energy Hand, which could be even more nimble than one's own hand. The last was Demon Hand, intended for combat.

Demon Hand mimicked the hand of a Dark Demon for use in battle. Naturally, it could also serve a supporting role, but it wasn't as durable or dexterous as the other two forms.

"Demon Hand, of course!" Dean blurted out. "I decided to learn Demon Hand the moment I saw it. After all, I don't know many spells, so naturally I want something powerful!"

Even after he finished speaking, Dean was still a little excited. Coupled with Mentor Sanderson's appraisal of Magic Hand just now, he felt more certain than ever that this spellbook had been worth far more than he'd paid.

Seeing Dean's eagerness, Sanderson smiled, as though recalling his younger self. His aptitude had been terribly poor, and learning even one new spell had taken painstaking effort, but the joy in his heart afterward had been beyond words.

"Good!" Sanderson declared. "It doesn't matter which form of Magic Hand you want to learn. As long as you're willing, these old bones will teach you—and keep teaching until you've mastered it."

With that, Sanderson extended his right hand. Icy mist enveloped it, quickly forming an ice egg slightly larger than a fist.

"Little Dean, have you... ever seen a demon?" Sanderson asked enticingly.

Dean shook his head vigorously. How could he possibly have seen a demon? He was only an apprentice, one who had been studying magic for less than a year. He could count the spells he knew on his fingers. How could he ever have seen a demon?

"Heh heh, I've never seen one either," Sanderson said. "Most demons exist only in the Abyss, in the Abyssal Great World."

The Abyssal Great World was home to a terrifying race recorded by countless civilizations and peoples. Every demon possessed strength beyond imagining. It was said that even the weakest demon that had just reached adulthood was far stronger than a human third-tier mage.

Third-tier Mages, third-tier warriors, third-tier knights, third-tier archers, and the like were all no match for a demon that had only just come of age.

Demon lords, meanwhile, possessed strength comparable to that of humanity's Eighth-Level Grand Mage Mentors.

The eighth tier was a level of power Dean didn't even dare imagine. Such beings could destroy the world.

(End of chapter)