Demon Hand

"Heh, I don't have any demands. I'm nearly in my grave, after all. If you have questions, ask away!" Sanderson seemed to be in a good mood.

"Mentor, I bought a Magic Hand spellbook at the library this morning. I was hoping you could help me understand it." Dean hurriedly took out Magic Hand and handed it to Sanderson.

Sanderson took the spellbook, a little surprised. He knew it was a dark magic spellbook and had thought it wouldn't circulate outside the library anytime soon. Yet someone had bought it.

"Little fellow, I didn't expect you to have an affinity for dark magic." Sanderson looked Dean over again. He was small and thin, an utterly ordinary apprentice.

"I'm not sure whether that's good or bad," Dean said, troubled. "So far, I haven't seen any benefits. It's only limited me in other ways."

Dean had three affinities: dark, fire, and undead. Dark made up most of his magical power, while fire and undead accounted for much smaller portions. It was a frustrating combination.

Generally, mages chose one affinity to cultivate as their primary one and used the others for support.

Dean did the same, with dark as his primary affinity and fire as support. As for his Undead Affinity... Well, Bru Magic Academy had pitifully few dark magic spellbooks, let alone undead ones. It had none at all.

Dark magic spellbooks were so scarce, and classes on the subject were just as rare. That was the source of Dean's frustration.

"I'm not well versed in dark magic myself," Sanderson said. "I can only explain what I can. You'll have to work out the rest from there." He motioned for Dean to follow him and headed into the small building nearby.

The magical servant was still sweeping the floor. No one else remained in the courtyard.

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

"Wood, I think, with ice and earth as supporting affinities." Dean had been paying attention to Sanderson for a long time, so of course he knew his mentor's affinities.

Their affinities were worlds apart, without a single one in common, but Dean didn't mind.

"That's right. Wood is my primary affinity." Sanderson nodded approvingly. It was no secret, but Dean had clearly learned something about him and still wanted him as a mentor despite their different affinities.

Sanderson understood then. Dean was a lost young apprentice who desperately wanted guidance. He hoped Sanderson could show him the right path... No, it didn't even have to be the right one. Just a path he could follow.

"Let me look at Magic Hand first." Sanderson sat down in the sparsely furnished room and opened the spellbook. Before long, he was absorbed in it.

Dean took the opportunity to look around. The room was spacious and held little furniture, only a few chairs.

It looked like a small testing ground—or rather, a place for experimenting with magic.

Traces of spells marked the floor and walls here and there. Some looked years old.

Dean was still looking when he heard Sanderson tapping his fingers on the wooden table. The rhythm was the same as when he had tapped his cane against the floor tiles earlier.

"Little Dean, this spell... is rather unusual." Sanderson stopped tapping the table and began stroking his beard instead.

"If this copy of Magic Hand were incomplete, it would only be worth three to five gold coins. But it's complete. It must be worth several hundred at least!" Sanderson said with a sigh.

"Still, it can only be cast with dark magic. That's a strict requirement."

Dean froze. He knew the book was complete, which meant it was worth several hundred gold coins... He swallowed hard.

"Heh, you got yourself a bargain. The library probably saw that it was a dark magic spell with no clear level, didn't look too closely, and sold it cheap." Sanderson smiled and shook his head.

Dean nodded quickly. He was more than happy with the spellbook.

"Then tell me: which of its three forms do you want? The defensive Dark Element Hand, the nimble Magic-Energy Hand, or the most brutal of them all—Demon Hand?" Sanderson set down the spellbook.

Magic Hand had three distinct forms: the defensive Dark Element Hand, the Magic-Energy Hand, which could be even more nimble than one's own hand, and finally the combat-focused Demon Hand.

Demon Hand modeled the hand of a Dark Demon and was meant for combat. It could serve as a support spell too, though it was neither as enduring nor as dexterous as the other two.

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

Dean grew even more excited as he spoke. Coupled with Sanderson's appraisal, he felt increasingly certain the spellbook had been an incredible bargain.

Seeing Dean so eager, Sanderson smiled. He seemed to remember his own early days. His aptitude had been poor, and every new spell had taken enormous effort to learn, but the joy he had felt afterward was beyond words.

"Good!" Sanderson said at once. "It doesn't matter which form of Magic Hand you want to learn. If you want to learn it, these old bones will teach you until you can cast it."

With that, Sanderson extended his right hand. Ice mist gathered around it and soon formed an icy sphere a little larger than his fist.

"Little Dean, have you ever seen a demon?" Sanderson asked in a tantalizing tone.

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

"Heh, I haven't 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 in the histories of countless civilizations and peoples. Every demon possessed unimaginable strength. It was said that even the weakest newly matured demon was far stronger than a human third-level Mage.

Third-level mages, warriors, knights, archers, and the like were no match for a demon that had only just reached adulthood.

Demon lords, meanwhile, possessed power comparable to a human Eighth-Level Grand Mage Mentor.

The eighth level was so powerful Dean hardly dared imagine it. Beings of that level could destroy worlds.

(End of chapter)