Tortoise Shell Inkstone, Pine Pattern Ink, a soft purple-hair brush, Yellow Skin Paper.
Then add a Red Paper Tablet.
Mixing in the blood he had just squeezed from his cut finger, Zheng Qing quickly drew an above-standard Forgetting Rune, wrapped it into a rune bullet, and loaded it into his rune gun.
A new slender tube immediately appeared in his Sea of Consciousness. One end pierced the azure mass of air, while the other connected to the tail of the rune bullet. Violent magical power surged into the bullet in wave after wave, visible to the naked eye.
The swelling pain in Zheng Qing's head grew fainter and fainter.
"That should do it, right?" He rubbed his aching temples and looked at the blurry face behind the door. "What do I do next? Blast you in the head with one shot?"
That sounded a little cold.
"In theory, it doesn't necessarily have to hit my head... Any part of my body will do." The old house's master was not angered by the young wizard's blunt words, and his tone was exceptionally tolerant. "But before that, there is still one small thing missing."
"What's missing?"
"Old-fashioned wizards, like me, whenever we conduct some unfamiliar experiment and are about to finish, always place our last hope in certain great and mysterious beings... So at a time like this, we usually press our palms together and silently recite: May Merlin bless us and make this rune bullet extraordinarily effective."
"At this hour," Zheng Qing said, pulling out his Pocket Watch to check the time, then curling his lip, "Merlin is probably snoring or grinding his teeth. He doesn't have time to bother with the prayers of tiny people like us."
"Merlin snores too?" Zhu Si, curled up in Jiang Yu's arms, looked curiously