Chapter 27: Meditation

The entrance to the Mage Tower remained quiet and deserted. However, when they were still a few hundred feet from the cyan light barrier, the two draft horses pulling the carriage neighed and refused to go any further. Although the warhorses of the three Griffon Knights did not act as panicked, they too could not remain calm. So, for these last few steps, Constantine had no choice but to proceed on foot.

“Hmm… lad, your name is Constantine, correct? Stand still. I need you to come to me.”

Just as the youth arrived before the large door shimmering with cyan light, the simple dragon-patterned emblem on his chest suddenly glowed. Then, a voice resonated throughout the surrounding space.

By the time Constantine realized whose aged and powerful voice this was, the scenery around him had melted and twisted as if dissolving. With a slight wave of dizziness, he was pulled into a dim, deep indoor corridor, standing before a door that immediately swung open.

The youth raised an eyebrow. He noticed the exquisitely carved black door had a slight rainbow sheen, seemingly carved from a single piece of obsidian… Although, for safety’s sake, he had left the Lich at the Duke’s Mansion this time, the elegant script characters on the door were enough to indicate its owner possessed such capability. Based on the script he had learned these past few days, Constantine figured he was likely on the highest floor of the Mage Tower. Within Archmage Nikolai’s private domain.

After two knocks went unanswered, the youth carefully pushed the door open.

Unlike the magic laboratory where cold leaked from the wall cracks, this study was extraordinarily quiet. The air was even and warm, and the fire in the hearth slowly emitted a red glow. The walls were painted snow-white with some unknown coating, yet faint silver patterns were imprinted upon them. The two bookshelves were also white, displaying many books with beautiful gold lettering in a neat and pleasing arrangement. Above the bookshelves, even a pot of trailing plant hung down like emerald, its tiny leaves faintly concealing some of the books.

But apart from these, the room contained only a writing desk of indistinguishable wood or stone—it was actually still an experiment table. A small set of crucibles and vessels sat in the center. Several parchment scrolls lay scattered across it. The only proof it also served as a writing desk was the marble inkwell holding a few feather pens. However, a unique medicinal scent in the air made the youth sniff twice.

The tall frame of Archmage Nikolai currently sat behind the writing desk, but he paid no attention to the uninvited Constantine… The old mage was grinding a small pile of herbal powder in a small stone mortar, mixing it evenly, then adding a type of fat rendered from some unknown animal. Then, all these ingredients were thrown into a crucible for refining. Cyan flames licked the gray-black bottom of the copper pot as the gooey mass inside bubbled and churned. Perhaps this was the typical attitude of every Archmage-level being; once lost in thought, they rarely noticed their surroundings.

So Constantine stood silently nearby, carefully observing the other’s every move. Regarding magic potion study, he himself held a certain interest. Magic potion lore in this plane was a rather complex and precise science, similar to the chemistry Constantine knew. There were some similarities, but the youth had not yet found a suitable learning opportunity.

“That is something which requires slowly accumulated experience to master. Simply memorizing herb descriptions, potion formulas, and speculation cannot grasp its essence!”—that was Hartdiel’s advice to the youth.

Of course, with Constantine’s fairly dexterous fingers, excellent patience, and cleverness, he could probably deduce some pharmacological combinations based on notes in old books and ancient records. But that was the limit. Without a foundation of extensive experiments, he could not optimize or alter any formulas, nor did he clearly understand the significance of the requirements for cutting, grinding, crushing, and the specific conditions for brewing and stirring.

“Oh… you’re here. Sit down.” Only after a long while did the old mage shift his attention to the youth he had summoned, though he showed little regret for leaving his guest waiting. “Hmm, do you have a teacher? I mean, one who formally instructs you in magic?” He abruptly asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I should say no… but a mage by my father’s side gave me some instruction many years ago,” the youth cautiously replied. It was best not to reveal the Lich’s existence. He had already prepared some excuses for creating scrolls, though they had some holes. The old mage probably wouldn’t verify such a harmless issue.

“Hmm, you’ve looked through the spellbook I gave you? Gained any insights?” As the youth expected, the old mage carefully adjusted the flames and asked absentmindedly.

“Well… not yet.”

Actually, this was a recent headache for the youth. According to the Lich, a Sorcerer who awakened their talent had a considerable advantage in learning, especially with the lowest-tier spells. They often quickly mastered five or six spells. But Constantine’s progress in this area was extremely slow. Although he had recently begun to grasp some Divine Script and had looked over all the low-tier spells in that spellbook over the past two days, the feeling he had when first using Magic Missile had not reappeared. Regarding this, the Lich, as a Mage, didn’t have much good advice. Sorcerers were far rarer than Mages, and most he encountered were enemies. He didn’t know much more than Constantine about cultivating such abilities.

“Must I really create a life-or-death situation?” the frustrated youth thought more than once.

“Don’t lose heart. Actually, you are already doing quite well…” The old mage smiled, seemingly sensing the youth’s inner disappointment.

“How exactly does a Spellcaster cast spells?” Then he suddenly posed a question. And before the youth could answer, he answered it himself: “Mental Power. No matter what type of Spellcaster, they all use Mental Power to connect to the Weave of Magic! The difference lies in the method of using that Mental Power!”

“The Mental Power of Mages is more explosive. Therefore, they can use spells more concisely. Skilled Mages often only need gestures or words to guide a magic spell. The whole process usually doesn’t exceed ten seconds. This is called a Feat, an ability unique to Mages. As for Sorcerers, they are fascinated by the subtle changes in Mental Power. Their control over Mental Power is unmatched. Therefore, their spellcasting is rich in variation. Although the spells they use are difficult to speed up or skip certain steps, they can produce a variety of changes!”

“For example, a Light spell. Mages can only use it to create a light source. But Sorcerers can mobilize varying degrees of Magic Power to obtain light of different intensities, as well as control the area of light appearance, casting range, etc. Of course, it’s said skilled Sorcerers can even achieve effects clearly beyond simple illumination spells, like changing light color through precise Magic Power frequency, or even creating illusions with lights of different colors…”

“Of course, this is hard to understand. You should start by trying to contact the Weave of Magic first… Although not strictly necessary for a Sorcerer, it might have some effect.” After this explanation, the old mage seemed to realize he had spoken too much and shifted to a practical approach: “Calm yourself. Concentrate your thoughts, then try to resonate with the space around you…”

So, following the old mage’s voice, the youth closed his eyes and began to perceive the surrounding world with his Mental Power. As this Mental Power gradually condensed, he felt his mind begin to sink into something solid-like… That should be the Weave of Magic the mages mentioned. Following the old mage’s instruction, he tried to draw power from those intangible sources of Magic Power. However, this process wasn’t easy. Surging currents washed over his thoughts. He could only arduously attempt, again and again, to seize and solidify his own domain, gradually adding a few more trickles to the small stream he could control.

After Constantine followed the steps, a pain transmitted into his mind, very similar to the mysterious headaches he had experienced before. Only this time, he felt the pain didn’t come from his body, but from deep within his own consciousness… or perhaps his Soul. However, the intensity was much lighter than those previous headaches.

“Could it be that I, too, get to experience a ‘blessing in disguise’?”

The youth felt somewhat fortunate. That previous experience of enduring pain hadn’t been in vain. His mental endurance allowed him to focus his mind easily. Enduring this pain, he followed the mage’s instructions, trying hard to slowly sink his consciousness, immersing it into the dark Abyss of his mind—or rather, continuously advancing toward the center of the Darkness… So the pain intensified, coming in waves like the tide, but it was still far from reaching Constantine’s limit.

For an instant, light seemed to appear before his eyes. Silver flames flickered, illuminating the dark space of his consciousness. It was a complex, interwoven three-dimensional network, woven from countless silver threads. It somewhat resembled a nest built by a group of Spiders.

However, unlike a real spiderweb, this vast network was so bright it was a bit dazzling, as if silver-white flames burned faintly within it.

In that moment, Constantine felt like a tiny insect traveling within this network. As he gradually penetrated deeper, he seemed to see all the textures of this webclearly. That feeling of constantly leaping forward, of getting closer, even intoxicated the youth for a moment.

Unfortunately, the Meditation couldn’t last long. Just as Constantine tried to delve deeper into this layer of the network, the pain struck again. Only this time, the intensity had increased severalfold compared to the beginning! The youth struggled slightly and felt darkness wash over his vision. He didn’t know how long passed before his consciousness awoke from the darkness.

A series of electrical signals stimulated his nerves. For a moment, inexplicable pain made him feel as if every muscle in his body had been crushed by a massive boulder. He didn’t even have the strength to lift a finger