Chapter 0036 Examining the Spoils of War

When the hall returned to silence, only three charred corpses and a heap of inconspicuous earthen mounds remained. Not far away, perched on a crooked, haunted tree, a carrion crow with blood-red eyes let out a soft caw and began to beat its wings, preparing to take flight.

But at that very moment, a slender hand, pale as frost and smooth as snow, suddenly emerged and seized the carrion crow just as it spread its wings. Before the bird could struggle, the hand gently closed, and the so-called “swamp scavenger” was crushed with ruthless ease.

As filthy blood spattered in all directions, the graceful figure of Mary in red finally appeared atop the withered branches of the haunted tree.

She stood lightly upon the skeletal limbs, silently gazing in the direction where Grim had disappeared. A smile, enigmatic and unreadable, curved her lips before she vanished in a flicker.

Grim prided himself on his wit, yet he underestimated the unpredictable nature of witchcraft. The magic swamp was no longer a place for secrecy or safety. The carrion crows scattered throughout the swamp served as the eyes and ears of Eagle-Eye Crusas, covertly monitoring every move of the apprentices.

Whenever night fell and wizard apprentices hid within their chambers to conduct arcane experiments, none would suspect that crazed, crimson eyes watched them from the night sky beyond the tower.

Only those with keen spiritual senses could detect these flying sentinels. If Grim did not eliminate this one, Crusas would discover his hidden cards within half an hour. Among the three strong contenders, Crusas possessed the weakest combat ability, yet his skill at gathering intelligence was unrivaled.

Thus, any apprentice seeking to preserve their secrets had but one course: to blind these omnipresent eyes and ears of Crusas.

…

Unaware of what transpired behind him, Grim’s elemental sight could detect the carrion crows, but he could not connect them to Eagle-Eye Crusas.

Slipping quietly back to his quarters, Grim could not resist the urge to sort his personal belongings. The loot from the Crone’s lair was more than just Simba’s Heartcore. Previously, eager to convert resources into power, Grim had focused solely on the Heartcore, leaving the rest unattended.

The Heartcore was the most valuable item and had already become the summoning crystal for the Earth Golem; that could be set aside for now. Of the eight fine blood sacs, Mary had devoured seven in one gulp, leaving only one. Such delicacies had once been reserved exclusively for Master Anderson the wizard.

It was well-known that aside from body-refining and bloodline wizards, most sorcerers possessed abysmally poor physiques. Years of elemental erosion, endless days and nights shut away in their laboratories, prolonged study of arcane tomes and scrolls—such a life inevitably led to a frail body. Most wizards, if not outright feeble, were at least physically weak.

Their obsession with mental prowess and spiritual fortitude came at the cost of neglecting physical training. Thus, official wizards had no choice but to rely on food supplements, medicinal tonics, and similar means to compensate for their bodily deficiencies.

These blood sacs, harvested from the roots of the parasitic bloodvine growing on murder trees, could greatly replenish vitality even without special preparation. If crafted by an alchemical master into Crimson Enchantress potions, they could directly raise a weak wizard’s constitution by two points. Of course, Crimson Enchantress only benefited those with less than ten points in constitution, and its effect was single-use.

But Grim had no means to seek out an alchemy master for such potions now. Knowing he would lose much of the blood sac’s essence, he had no choice but to swallow it simply.

As the soft pouch burst in his mouth, a thick, metallic sweetness spread across his tongue. The viscous blood essence flowed down his throat and into his stomach, filling him with a warm surge of vitality.

“Beep: Unknown energy detected invading host body. Estimated to cause unpredictable changes in host’s life system. Please indicate if removal is required. If host provides no instruction, removal will commence in five seconds…”

“Countdown begins… five… four… three…”

“Cancel removal!”

“Host command received. Removal process terminated. Would you like real-time internal monitoring of bodily data?”

“Yes!”

“Host command received. Real-time internal scan commencing…”

With a series of gentle beeps, Grim’s mind projected a constantly updating stream of physical data.

Name: Grim
Race: Human
Attributes: Strength 4.03, Agility 4.06, Constitution 3.05 (fluctuating), Spirit 8.20
Alignment: Lawful Neutral
Class: Apprentice Wizard (Beginner)
Health: 11/12 (fluctuating)
Class Experience: 650/1000
Status: Healthy
Class Skills: Scroll Copying, Spell Reading
Personal Skills: Burning Hand (solidified), Flame Arrow (solidified)

Examining his real-time feedback, Grim noted that aside from constitution and health gradually increasing, his class experience bar had also changed. If memory served, his last self-check showed only 530 experience points, now it was 650—a discrepancy of 120 points!

Where had they come from?

Grim ignored the effects of the blood sac on his body, immersing himself in reviewing past log entries. Soon, he found a previously overlooked chip notification.

“Beep: Host successfully crafted first Earth Golem, earning 120 class experience.”

So, it was from making the Earth Golem!

It seemed that choosing a suitable support profession would be the easiest way to gain class experience. Previously, he’d worried about expending vast amounts of experience with each new spell he learned. Now, with steady income, future studies would proceed much more smoothly.

In truth, Grim was only fifteen; his body had not reached its full adolescent peak, and there was much room for growth, as shown by his slowly rising basic attributes.

Yet in such oppressive, gloomy surroundings, his character inevitably bore a shadow—pragmatism and utilitarianism dominated his outlook. The so-called beautiful emotions of the past he dared not hope for any longer.

Before gaining strength, caution was his shield, yet even so, he could not avoid being swept up in the intrigue among powerful apprentices.

He was fond of Mary in red, and she seemed to reciprocate—though domineering and fierce, she often protected him. This was undeniably fortunate.

Yet, owing to his cautious and reserved nature, Grim was unwilling to entrust his safety or hopes to an outsider. Thus, he resolved to seize this brief period of protection to advance swiftly. As for his future? Grim remained lost.

He did not know how he had come to this place, nor why he was here. Thus far, all his actions had been mere survival, going with the flow. His current status constrained his vision, making it hard to see the world clearly. Perhaps venturing out would not be a bad idea; at least then he could truly experience this unfamiliar world.

Maybe, then, he would discover his direction and his path.

Lost in these musings, the blood essence finally permeated his body, bringing a flush to his pale cheeks and filling him with boundless energy.

With delighted yet icy composure, he watched as the constitution indicator on his self-check panel climbed steadily, settling at 4.37. His quantified health soared to 14 points.

His constitution had risen from 3.05 to 4.37, an increase of 1.32—though not reaching the Crimson Enchantress’s extreme, it far exceeded his expectations, likely due to his original low baseline. Now, even at 4.37, he barely matched other wizard apprentices; he remained outmatched by body-refining peers.

The 14 health points were merely the chip’s numeric model based on the life system of a high-magic world, reflecting his current vitality rather than reality.

Given his physical frailty, without defensive spells, any attack spell would mean instant death. Thus, aside from developing his golem potential, he urgently needed a defensive spell.

Otherwise, in future battles, he would not even survive the aftermath of the clash between powerful foes.

Having dealt with the blood sac, Grim assessed his remaining spoils.

One broken fragment of a magical device, its original shape unrecognizable, made of common mithril—a low-grade item, doubtless left behind by some former apprentice devoured by monstrous beasts, of little value. Grim discarded it outright.

Next was a fist-sized chunk of metal ore, shimmering with eerie blue light, and a pebble-sized, mysterious white stone.

The white stone turned out to be quite a prize. After several tests, including applying black bone water to its surface, Grim finally identified it.

A swamp giant lizard egg!

This was the same crocodile-like creature Simba had ridden; naturally suited to life in swamp pools, it possessed innate petrification rays. If not for the short range of its petrification, it could have made an excellent familiar.

The egg was still alive—a viable embryo. If traded, it might fetch something of real use to Grim.