Chapter 43: A Small Dispute

The next few days were relatively quiet. Studying spells became Constantine’s biggest concern. Relying on his excellent memory and his spirit of exploring new things, the young man finally fully mastered the incantations for several first-level spells he had on hand—the Grease Spell, Feather Fall, and Mage Armor. He even managed to memorize the incantation for that second-level spell, Earth Claw, though the combination of Divine Script was quite long, and Constantine wasn’t confident he could control it in actual combat.

As a Lich who enjoyed traveling, Hartdiel had rich practical experience. Although the magic Constantine mastered wasn’t powerful, in Hartdiel’s explanation, if used properly, it could still produce some surprising effects.

Magic, the mysterious force of this world. Even though second-tier spells were still the lowest level of magic, it was enough to excite Constantine, who had gotten used to a world without magic. As they generally said, he now officially qualified to be called a Sorcerer. Correspondingly, he had another batch of spell scrolls in his hands.

Servants disturbed him even less. Now, apart from the Old Steward and the Blood Elf, the other servants would consciously keep their distance. Only the Duke’s youngest daughter was an exception. Obviously, this Sorcerer brother, who had attracted monsters just like in fairy tales, further aroused the little girl’s curiosity. Although, perhaps due to intentional restraint from her mother, she could no longer easily run to Constantine’s room to play as she did last time, Constantine still often saw her around—waving to him from afar in the courtyard by the window, or sweetly greeting him when they ‘accidentally’ met in the corridor. Then she would seize the chance to start a conversation.

However, another little kid seemed to have taken on the task of being her protector. Often, before the curious little girl could bring up the topic she wanted to discuss, he would suddenly appear and use his mature, coffin-like face to drive the girl away from what he saw as danger. His feelings toward Constantine had shifted from contempt to wariness. Every time they met, he fully armed himself. Even face to face, Constantine couldn’t tell what was going on in that little head behind his cold expression.

“Although I admit you are indeed one of the most peculiar-minded fellows I have ever seen, talent alone cannot explain a Spellcaster’s power increasing dramatically in a short time. Those great figures remembered through the ages also had to undergo a long and arduous process of tempering. That process takes at least a dozen years. On the Continent, the most genius Archmage, David, took six years to advance to the fifth level. And Houdini, called the greatest master of the Arcane Arts, took twenty-three years…” When Constantine awoke from Meditation again, the Lich leisurely began to speak.

According to this Archmage, if Constantine studied diligently, relying on his Sorcerer talent and the gift from that special existence, he might also become a powerful Spellcaster. However, wanting to increase his power in a short time seemed impossible by following the usual path of Mage training. Touching the fifth layer of the Weave of Magic and being able to use those practical spells was often the lifelong dream of many Mages, one that most never achieved. And for a Sorcerer relying on innate talent, that goal was even more distant. Moreover, in Constantine’s current state, put nicely, he was training in both magic and martial arts, which was extremely flashy. But as the saying goes, one knows one’s own affairs best. In both aspects, he lacked the talent to quickly break through bottlenecks. Having a little knowledge but acting like an expert was practically the same as achieving nothing.

“Of course, these people all used ordinary methods. But in this field, there are certainly some shortcuts… As far as I know, those able to touch higher layers of the Weave of Magic in a short time can usually borrow some special means—borrowing power from a certain existence, or finding unlucky victims to plunder through sacrifices, or even finding special methods, such as exploiting loopholes in certain rules…”

The young man stood up and shook his head noncommittally. As far as he knew, those methods were equally difficult to achieve… or to be effective. But Constantine didn’t dare try them lightly.

Those tricky methods, like borrowing power from creatures of other Planes or snatching it from certain sacrificial offerings, were extremely dangerous. Just like the evil martial arts in his memory that were more prone to causing practitioners to go berserk, the slightest carelessness could lead to death, or even the more terrifying destruction of the Soul. And exploiting loopholes in the rules, while possibly even creating an existence akin to a Deity… not to mention whether any loopholes could be found in that perfected world’s rules, even if one somehow found one by mistake, gaining power would also mean losing freedom—such a method was equivalent to reaching into the domain of the Deities. How could they ignore it? Pursuit and killing would surely follow.

“Prepare a carriage… I want to go to the Magic Tower.” Ringing a bell on the table, Constantine instructed the Blood Elf who appeared shortly after.

It seemed he couldn’t get a good answer from the Lich, for whom increasing power was everything. Constantine finally decided to go to the Mage Tower instead. After all, last time, he gained considerable inspiration from Nikolai there.

One piece of good news was that, seemingly due to the weakening of the Curse’s wielder’s power, the effects of Constantine’s recent treatments were greatly enhanced. The twice-daily treatments were changed to three times every two days, giving him more free time… And he also needed to resolve another matter—the issue of reforging the Soul Amulet had also run into trouble.

For these past days, the Lich had been hiding in a corner of Constantine’s body in Soul form. Although this didn’t cause much substantial impact on the young man, thinking of an old skeleton attaching itself to him was enough to make one’s hair stand on end. Moreover, the Negative Energy from an Undead Creature inevitably clashed with the life force of a living person. Remaining in this state for a long time, Constantine worried it might affect his physical development—after all, this body was only a little over thirteen years old now. From a physiological perspective, it was the peak period for physical growth.

But this Amulet wasn’t easy to make.

In other aspects, Constantine didn’t find it particularly difficult. The Magic Array to be inscribed on the Soul Amulet wasn’t especially complex. After seeing the detailed array diagram provided by the Lich, Constantine thought it wasn’t much harder than carving a seal. Although carving delicate array lines on a small Gemstone was a bit challenging, as long as the young man used the convex lens from his simple telescope and got an engraving tool with a diamond tip, carving arrays on various materials wouldn’t be a problem.

However, the problem the Lich raised afterward became a bottleneck. The original Amulet used a mineral called smoky quartz—on the Western Continent, this wasn’t really considered a Gemstone. It was usually found in places with a very heavy aura of death. But besides Necromancers being interested in them, their dark, dull appearance and chilly aura made them generally unpopular. Therefore, they were completely unavailable on the market. The original piece was discovered by the Lich on an ancient battlefield.

“Additionally, I must remind you that ordinary smoky quartz can only bear a limited Soul strength, so it’s completely out of the question… The best would be the elite part called morion, or there might be some substitutes. But obtaining those things is actually much harder than getting morion… It’s a shame your current abilities are too weak. Otherwise, you could try visiting my Magic Tower. There would be no shortage of backup materials there.”

“Your Magic Tower? Where is it?”

“Deeper into the Underdark, a place of ruin, not very far from the surface… So, want to go take a look? My proud treasures are all stored there.”

“No deal! I’d rather go to the ancient battlefield!”

“That one’s relatively farther, to the north of the Continent, near the northeast border of the Orcs’ territory. But it’s actually closer to your homeland. If you want to make a trip back home, you could consider it…”

“That might really send me back to my hometown for good…”

The carriage was still that simple Noble carriage, but now its escort presence was much weaker… Besides Nehemiah Pex, who had been turned into a Vampire Spawn during the commotion a few days ago, another member of the Scorite squad was also unfortunately injured. Therefore, apart from the fully armored captain, the only one who could add a bit of presence was Gordo, who had just been assigned as Constantine’s coachman.

Fortunately, this big fellow could now also serve as decent combat power. His tall frame made the specially tailored clothes seem a bit tight. On the seat beside the coachman’s box lay that large lumber axe.

The training methods Constantine taught Gordo weren’t orthodox techniques. But clearly, these movements were unparalleled for exercising muscle groups, especially the latissimus dorsi, known as the source of strength. Perhaps due to the physical constitution of people in this Plane, in just a few short days, Gordo’s already broad back thickened even more. Or perhaps, those with single-minded focus always progressed especially fast? Now, when he swung that lumber axe straight down, sometimes the wood would split before the whistling sound was even heard—Constantine believed that such a swing, even against full plate armor, would be enough to knock the opponent down with sheer impact force.

“Please wait. Where are you going?”

Just as the young man was about to board the carriage, the light around them suddenly intensified a bit—Constantine raised an eyebrow, noticing that the Priestess of Pelo had appeared not far away and was walking toward him.

She still wore that simple Cleric’s robe, adorned only with the gold and red Sun God emblem. But in the sunlight, the robe shimmered with flecks of golden light. She wasn’t wearing her hood. Underneath her hair, a rare dark brown shade for the Western Continent race, her expression remained cold as ice. A faint, murderous aura between her brows made her originally handsome and beautiful face somewhat ambiguous in gender.

“Good day, Lady Veronica. Archmage Nikolai and I have an arrangement, so I need to visit the Mage Tower.” Constantine gave a slight bow. Honestly, although she was a rare beauty, he didn’t have much fondness for this girl who acted completely without considering others’ thoughts. But after all, she had saved him from the Vampire during the crisis, and Constantine’s recent treatments still relied on the Clerics of the Pelo Temple. So he had no intention of antagonizing her.

“If I recall correctly, the Clerics advised you to rest peacefully and not move around unnecessarily. Moreover, you should be well aware that that evil entity hasn’t been brought to justice yet. Therefore, you’d better not stray too far from our sight! As for arrangements and such, it’s best to decline unless absolutely necessary…” The Priestess seemed completely uninterested in the important figure Constantine mentioned. Her cold tone carried an undeniable firmness.

Constantine’s eyebrow twitched again. Although what she said was true, and in a sense, it considered his perspective, that address-less manner of speaking made him rather displeased. This girl, not much older than him, seemed to have a special talent—no matter what words came from her mouth, that coldness always made the other party feel uncomfortable.

Besides, the faint golden glow emanating from her also made Constantine particularly uneasy. That feeling… simply put, was like swimming in the sea after getting sunburned—a slight, tingling, burning pain.

“Apologies, but that likely won’t do… Archmage Nikolai is my respected teacher. I believe casually breaking an appointment would be disrespectful to him. Moreover, as a Noble, a promised arrangement must be honored.” After weighing it slightly, the young man brought up another noble principle. Then he tried to board the carriage. But the other party swiftly stepped forward and stood beside the carriage. Constantine narrowed his eyes. The closer distance made the glow on her body more dazzling, and the pain increased somewhat.

“As far as I know, a Noble’s promise, much like a politician’s morals or an addict’s vow, is usually taken as a joke. But due to the duty granted to me by my god Pelo… and for your safety, I cannot let you leave!”

It seemed this young Priestess named Veronica also had little fondness for Constantine. With a cold laugh, she tossed out a Commoner saying, seemingly without considering it was entirely a mockery of Nobles. Then she suddenly reached out and grabbed Constantine, immediately turning to leave… almost like a parent intending to use some unavoidable firm measures on their own child.

The abrupt move made the young man slightly startled, and then the intensified burning sensation made him frown tightly! He struggled a bit but soon realized the strength coming from her hand was nothing like that of a girl in her teens. Although those hands felt soft and boneless, the force transmitted through them was greater than a strong man’s! With his muscles trained since childhood, he actually couldn’t break free and was involuntarily pulled from the spot.

Only he seemed aware of this sensation, so no one spoke up to help him—the conversation between the two wasn’t loud, looking like a childish argument. The Griffon Knight on the side probably thought it unnecessary to intervene, and Gordo, recently promoted from lowly servant, was even less likely to say anything.

So Constantine could only try to save himself. Shouting something like “You’re hurting me!” would be extremely embarrassing now, and trying to pry her fingers loose was an even more foolish move. So the young man swiftly reached out and poked her under the armpit—a spot of soreness and numbness. The girl, who had just turned away, immediately let out a suppressed scream, her fingers involuntarily loosening slightly. Seizing the chance, the young man easily pulled his hand free. Although people in this world were much tougher than those Constantine was familiar with, their bodily structure wasn’t that different.

“You… you… insolent person!” The next second, the Priestess swiftly turned around and took two steps back, glaring fiercely at Constantine! Her movements were somewhat stiff, her two dark, bright eyebrows raised high! Her originally icy face was now flushed! And the golden glow surrounding her grew even brighter! Her originally dark hair strands floated slightly, tinted by the glow into a shade of dark gold!

Though this expression undoubtedly added some life to her face… Constantine was momentarily stunned, only then realizing his earlier action might have been… slightly… inappropriate.

“Lady Veronica, please mind your words and conduct!” The Griffon Knight finally noticed the anomaly and spoke up. But this well-intentioned reminder only earned more anger from the young lady. Silently, she lowered her hand, and a small Warhammer slid out from her sleeve—its size didn’t seem like something that could be hidden in a sleeve; it was unclear how she concealed it. This action made the Griffon Knight place his hand on the hilt of his longsword!

For a moment, the situation grew tense, swords nearly drawn…

“Lord Constantine? Is something the matter here? Veronica? What are you doing again?” Fortunately, the peacemaker finally arrived at this moment—the old Cleric hurried over from the side. He unobtrusively positioned himself in front of the Priestess, a face full of kindly smiles that could calm even the most furious. His eyes swept around, seeming to understand everything.

“Of course, of course… Lord Constantine naturally has the freedom to move about. Veronica was merely offering a well-meaning reminder… I apologize for her offense.”

…

“High Priest Astarte! Why are you protecting him?” As the carriage leisurely departed, the Priestess’s anger turned toward the old Cleric.

“What reason do we have to detain a Noble’s freedom, Lady Priestess?” The old Cleric showed a harmless smile. He seemed pleased that this superior with little social experience could show some expression.

“Do you even know that little… he just now… he… damn it!” The Priestess wanted to say more, but his smile made her finally stomp her foot in frustration and turn to leave!