Progress on the final two runes proved slightly harder than Luge had anticipated, though only slightly.
He sensed that the difficulty did not stem from ordinary trouble with grasping the runes themselves, but rather from his mental power. By his own analysis, his mental power had grown too quickly of late. In essence, the process of attempting to master one meditation rune after another was itself a way of training mental power, and the rate of its growth and the progress of the meditation method mutually influenced each other. If there was anything peculiar that might have had an effect during this period, it was that translucent gray crystal, which had caused his mental power to surge noticeably. Not that he thought much of such external aid.
In between meditation sessions, he remembered that he still had a storage pouch opened with the Half-Man's help that he hadn't yet inspected. But as soon as he got busy, he pushed it aside again. Becoming a second-rank apprentice wizard was right before his eyes, and he was brimming with drive. Aside from eating and sleeping, he spent all his time buried in meditation to hone his mental power. It was monotonous, yet strangely satisfying. His unrelenting effort brought a calm to his heart, and watching himself improve bit by bit gave him a quiet sense of fulfillment.
"Today should do it."
He stuffed mouthfuls of grub meat into his mouth. To save time—and also as an experiment—over the past two days he had begun eating the grubs kept in his bedroom space. Those fat grubs had been scooped into the space along with the earth he had collected to pave the floor while grub-catching in the gully. Days had passed, and they were still alive; they tasted no different, nor had they given him an upset stomach.
He finished his simple meal.
For the first time in a while, he lay down to space out. Idly letting one's mind go blank was a high-class, technically demanding way to unwind.
Fortunately, he had mastered it—and mastered its core technique, no less.
Namely, thinking of absolutely nothing.
A simple meal, a simple bout of zoning out, and a few simple bites of ice: he felt he had settled himself. Immediately, he sank once more into meditation.
He had already mastered all the runes required to construct the second demonic mark.
His previous attempts had come close to succeeding, always falling just a tiny bit short.
He felt this attempt would succeed. It was an inexplicable certainty, an instinct telling him that he was ready, as if a voice were whispering in the depths of his heart.
Six new, six old: twelve distinct runes of the Demonic Mark Meditation Method were delineated and constructed in sequence. His mental power drained steadily, serving as flesh and blood in an alternate sense for the newborn runes. Delineating twelve runes in one continuous sequence tested both his willpower and his control over his mental power. There could not be the slightest waste, nor the slightest hesitation. Runes formed through the meditation method that had yet to coalesce into a demonic mark would gradually disperse over time, and as the required runes increased, the difficulty of advancement rose accordingly.
Constructing them too quickly made mistakes and excessive consumption likely. Yet being overly cautious meant that by the time the tenth rune was finished, the first might already be dispersing, leading straight to failure. For a first-rank apprentice at this stage, relying solely on cultivating and exercising one's meditation method meant their mental power was just barely sufficient, leaving no margin for waste or error.
At that moment, he was like a patch of weed or a stone existing purely in the world without stray thoughts. The only difference was that he kept tracing runes in his meditation; otherwise, he was no different from when he was spacing out.
The eleventh rune formed in the blink of an eye. Only the final step remained before his advancement to a second-rank apprentice wizard. Even according to Kaliu's diary, such a rate of progression was exceptionally rare—faster, at least, than Kaliu, who had called himself a genius, and that was without knowing whether Kaliu had exaggerated.
In his previous two attempts, he had failed to strike the right balance, and the earliest runes had begun dispersing just as he was outlining the twelfth. Repeatedly striving to construct a demonic mark was itself an exercise in meticulous control over oneself and one's mental power. No matter how immense a force might be, if one could not command it as effortlessly as one's own limbs, it did not truly belong to them.
The twelfth rune was the most complex, like stepping onto a higher terrace. From it, one could already deduce what the runes leading to a third demonic mark would look like.
This time, his pacing was immaculate. He felt not a shred of fatigue. From the very first rune, everything flowed as smoothly as water finding its channel. Every wisp of mental power allocated, every step linked to the next, unfolded with utter naturalness. Mistakes made and problems encountered during earlier attempts were corrected and avoided instinctively by his subconscious. By the twelfth rune, everything proceeded in orderly fashion without the slightest fluctuation, as swift and steady as before. It had to be that way; only unwavering consistency could yield success.
*Rumble!*
The twelve runes finally managed to coexist within the illusory expanse of his mental-power space.
They were like old friends who had known one another for years, yet had never managed to gather all at once.
Noisy and clamorous, they drew closer and closer, weaving a bizarre spectacle of light. Repelling yet entangling one another, they gradually reached the most critical juncture.
The mental-power space trembled in response, though nowhere near as violently as when he had first become an apprentice wizard from nothing, perhaps because the space was now far more stable than it had been then.
A new dark-red demonic mark manifested in his mental-power space. Slightly longer than the first, it lay parallel beside it, with several spell models orbiting and drifting around them.
It looked like another illusory ravine, or perhaps the claw scratch left by a beast with only two talons.
After a moment's thought, he mobilized the spell model for Demonskin, guiding it toward the demonic mark to empower it, and stored the empowered phantom within the second demonic mark—his second temporary spell slot.
He chose Demonskin not only because it was the sole spell he had mastered that bolstered his resistance to beatings, but also out of consideration for his upcoming venture into the Abyss. When the time came, that protective ward would effectively double as a disguise. Having an extra instant-cast spell ready without delay or cost would undoubtedly make him far safer.
He opened his eyes and exhaled a long breath.
That single breath summoned back all manner of stray thoughts, transforming him from lifeless grass and stone back into a lively kobold.
Blinking, he suddenly realized that ever since becoming an apprentice wizard, he had never once swapped out the spell in his first temporary spell slot; every time he used it, he promptly replenished it with Bull's Strength.
Though he had abruptly become a second-rank apprentice wizard, in a desolate place like this, he could only celebrate with some flavorless shaved ice.
Still, he was well pleased.
Next, after a brief rest, he would pick a spell to test his new casting limit, ensuring he had a clear grasp of his own capabilities.
Finishing the shaved ice, he walked over to the cave wall.
He wanted to run an experiment first, using his stronger mental power to try opening that door.
Earlier, he had felt that he might be able to open a stable portal of space that could hold for a period of time, but it would have been quite a strain. Now that he was a second-rank apprentice wizard, it should be somewhat easier, granting him a door through which he could freely step into his Abyssal bedroom space.
This was also preparation for stealing the dragon blood. He could open this door in advance to enter and exit at will; if anything went wrong, he could duck inside immediately.
As for stepping over to the cave wall to make the attempt, that was merely to help him focus. After all, imagining opening a door on a wall made it easier to convince his own mind.
He still had a few more things to prepare. Once he could open the door proficiently, he would have to find a way to pierce that strange dragon's hide. Even a mosquito had to stick its proboscis in before it could suck blood.
As a luminous, dreamlike doorway gradually took form, an anxious patter of footsteps echoed from nearby.
Aisjin?
Not yet fully adept at opening the door, he strained to concentrate and finish the final touch. A doorway of space fragments, just taller than a person, was successfully constructed.
He wiped away sweat that wasn't actually on his brow.
This was a perfect chance to invite Aisjin inside for a look, he thought.
Cautious by nature, seeing that the fat grubs had been fine for several days, he had already planned to go in and look around himself.
"Brother Luge, Old Gold Tooth... his luminous threads have grown so long!" Even before she came into view, Aisjin's voice drifted around the corner, followed by her anxious face. "Those things suddenly started shining brighter and brighter! He wouldn't let me disturb you—he said you must be doing something very important—but he hasn't been able to eat anything for so long..."
Chapter 45