Apostle...
Pale-faced Jeron rose unsteadily—though, to be fair, how much paler could a dark elf really get?—his expression like he'd just lost his homeland. Leaning against the wall, he finally spoke.
"You succeeded... Yes, that's truly a relief..."
Each word ground out through clenched teeth, as if his guts were melting from agony. No wonder—a fortune in magic stones enough to buy a small castle, all turned to worthless rocks. If the mana had just been sucked dry with nothing to show for it, Jeron might've grabbed Yoahim by the collar, shaken him senseless, and maybe even killed him.
Though it was just imagination, the close call sent a chill down Yoahim's spine. He swallowed hard.
"No... these magic stones... I'll compensate you. For real. I swear I'll make it right."
"No need. It was my responsibility—I never foresaw this happening."
Grind. Watching Jeron gnash his teeth like they might shatter, Yoahim took a cautious step back. Best not to provoke him here. One wrong word, and a level 8 spell might come flying.
"So, do you feel anything different?"
"Uh, hold on."
Yoahim finally checked the notification he'd overlooked amid the shock of the magic stones turning to stones.
'Let's see.'
Enlightenment always strikes suddenly. Thanks to the intense stimulus, your ability to handle mana has grown further!
Black Magic skill level +1!
If the path is blocked, sometimes smashing through the wall is faster than finding a new one. You've confronted your absurd fate head-on. Your god chides your reckless courage even as he takes pride in it.
You can now learn Black Magic up to level 6!
'Not seeing things, then.'
The flickering vision of that woman in his fading consciousness hadn't been some pre-death hallucination. It was the goddess descending directly into the mind of her apostle.
With Kallagon's—Kakali's—help, Yoahim had overcome death's brink and absorbed the magic stones' mana into his body. At the cost of turning them to rocks, of course.
'I absorbed the mana, but I don't feel any increase in my own reserves.'
Yoahim had indeed taken in all that mana from the stones. But if he'd truly absorbed that much, it should've overflowed, spilling out everywhere. Instead, nothing. Black Magic leveling up had bumped his mana pool a bit, but compared to the stones' vast reserves, it was negligible.
So where had all that mana gone? He couldn't be sure, but it must've been entirely consumed in shattering the level cap. Nothing else explained it. It sure hadn't evaporated into thin air.
'If it had, Jeron might've clutched his neck and collapsed.'
Yoahim gave a wry smile, glancing at the pile of stones on the floor.
'That much just to break one level cap.'
Even Kakali's sacred relic had only broken two. These insanely expensive stones barely managed one. To break another cap, he'd need more relics like hers or stones with equally immense mana.
'Not urgent right now, but when I have time, I should hunt for Kakali's relics.'
Mana springs had plenty of stones, but he felt too guilty to raid them. If he drained one dry, even Haellagos wouldn't forgive him. Relics it was, then. He didn't know how many existed, but surely more than one. Even a hack like Delion had one, and Kakali had once been a goddess who split the world with Raello.
'Might be easier to find than I think.'
Yoahim nodded to himself and turned to Jeron, who was sniffles and all picking up the stones—er, former magic stones.
"Uh... Jeron? Feels like one wall's come down. And my Black Magic has grown a bit too..."
"That's truly fortunate, sniff..."
"No, seriously, I'll pay you back. No bullshit. You trust me, right? I'm the apostle? Come on, stop crying, cut it out!"
"...I wasn't crying. Still, it's a relief. My efforts weren't wasted."
"I appreciate it, Jeron. So, just to check—can I learn Blood Magic now?"
Jeron had held off teaching Blood Magic due to its dangers. He'd promised to do so once Yoahim's skills improved and he could resist its temptations. With Black Magic at level 5 now, it seemed time.
"Of course. You've more than earned the qualification."
"Then let's start now?"
"Right this instant?"
Classes were over for the day, but Yoahim's thirst for knowledge burned bright—especially after breaking through his limits.
Jeron smiled faintly at his eager disciple.
"Very well. Consider it a parting gift. I'll teach you."
"Parting? Where are you going all of a sudden?"
Jeron was the Jenahe Tower Master. A dark elf versed in Blood Magic had few places that would welcome him—humans and fairies certainly wouldn't. Unless... to Alzahar's forces? But he'd sworn atonement under Haellagos; betrayal was unlikely.
That left one option.
"To the battlefield?"
"Yes."
"Is the war that dire? Enough to mobilize the tower's black mages?"
Jeron shook his head lightly.
"No. The enemy's resistance is fierce, but we've crushed over half of Alzahar's forces. The castles and mana springs we've seized number beyond two hands' count. And after news spread of you slaying Hallidery at Levia Castle, some of his troops even surrendered to us."
Too soon for victory declarations, but momentum favored Haellagos.
"The long war has claimed many black mages," Jeron continued. "Soldiers can be replaced with undead, but not mages. And Jenahe Tower's other name is the Jenahe Magic Soldier Corps. As soldiers, it's time we fulfilled our duty."
Yoahim nodded solemnly. Few could kill a black mage of Jeron's caliber, but war wasn't solitary. A coordinated assault could still end him. Yoahim prayed his mentor returned safe.
"I won't be here from tomorrow, but don't slack on your training, Apostle. You'll stand on the battlefield soon enough—not far off. Even the Apostle of the God of Death can't dodge death forever. Hone yourself relentlessly. To survive."
Yoahim nodded gravely.
"You too—don't die. I've still got plenty to learn from you."
"Hahaha! Understood. I'll survive for your sake, Apostle. Now, enough chatter."
Jeron gestured, opening a sub-space. He roughly tossed the stone-turned magic stones inside, then drew a sharp knife—similar to the ritual blade from before.
Gripping the gleaming silver blade, he beckoned Yoahim closer.
"Extend your hand."
Yoahim did, and a sharp sting hit instantly. Blood welled up from the cut, beading then dripping down.
At first drops, then a steady stream poured from his index finger. Staring at it, Yoahim asked,
"You're not pissed at me, right?"
"Heavens, no." Jeron shrugged. "As I told you before, Apostle, true black magic draws on life force. But it's no easy feat. Unlike mana, life force isn't visible or easily sensed."
Yoahim nodded instead of replying.
"Does that mean life force is some imaginary energy? No. We can't sense it, but we know it exists—stronger proof than our own lives.
So when do I learn Blood Magic? I'm getting dizzy here.
Yoahim glanced at his bleeding finger, then back to Jeron as the explanation continued.
"Black mages conceptualized this vague life force. What makes up a living being? Answers vary, but simply: blood, flesh, and bone."
Countless creatures roamed the world in myriad forms, traits, and habits. Yet all shared this: blood, flesh, bone.
"Black mages wielded great power through sacrificial rites. But preparing offerings and rituals every time was cumbersome. They simplified it to blood alone. Hence, Blood Magic."
Jeron flicked his finger, and the pool of blood from Yoahim's drips ignited abruptly.
Yoahim startled back, but the burning blood climbed back up the droplets toward his finger.
As the dark crimson flames neared, Yoahim swallowed.
They surged fiercely, right to his fingertip—
"Your homework is this."
Fwoosh. The flame vanished like a candle snuffed by breath.
Yoahim's mouth twitched as he eyed Jeron.
"Use your blood to create a flame. Practice while I'm gone. If you can't manage this, you have no talent for Blood Magic."
"...But does it have to be my own blood? You've used mine before, so it doesn't seem mandatory."
"True, you can use others' or monsters'. Blood Magic stems from sacrifice, after all. But your own is easiest to handle. Magic's hard with borrowed mana, isn't it?"
Yoahim groaned in reluctant agreement. Logical, but wounding himself every practice session? Jeron added,
"Oh, right—the top cause of death among Blood Magic learners is exsanguination. Be careful not to bleed out."
"...You're joking."
"No?"
"......"