Chapter 74: Metamagic Feats

A super-magic feat?! In an instant, Bohn’s eyes reddened with excitement. He edged forward fearlessly, screaming inwardly, “System, suspend all operational data—focus all resources on scanning and analyzing the opponent’s spell structure! Hurry!”

“Beep! Initiating data collection, commencing analytical scan!” The mechanical voice sounded in Bohn’s ear.

At the same time, the Arcane Eye activated, his gaze fixed intently on Ferguson’s hand movements, terrified of missing even the slightest detail. His breathing grew rapid, tension mounting. In his vision, torrents of blue data cascaded like a waterfall.

Meanwhile, Hussein, who was “enjoying” the high-level spell Mass Healing Massage, was filled with utter disbelief. In his life, he had faced countless foes, some wielding super-magic techniques, but never before had he encountered anyone so brazen as to leap two ranks in succession, casually hurling spells with nearly high-level power as if they were nothing.

“Damn it, I hate frost the most!” In that moment, Hussein was forced onto the defensive, unable to do more than fend off the relentless assault.

On the other side, three Corrupted Ones rushed swiftly toward the Count. The Count, stunned by Ferguson’s display of super-magic technique, quickly recovered his composure. He lifted a hand, grasping at the air. The three Corrupted Ones, sprinting at full speed, suddenly froze in place, defying all laws of inertia.

A faint crackling sound. The Count extended a finger, electricity dancing at its tip.

Sixth Circle Spell: Chain Lightning.

“Go!” the Count commanded.

Lightning shot from his fingertip, striking the nearest Corrupted One, then leaping rapidly to the next. The Corrupted had no chance to even scream before being reduced to charred corpses that thudded to the ground. After arcing through all three, the dazzling white bolt shot straight for Ferguson.

“Hehehehe…” Ferguson, who had been bombarding Hussein, suddenly looked up, his smile twisted and wicked. The bolt of lightning, less than a foot away, was blocked by a shroud of black energy.

“No secret is beyond the comprehension of the Defiled Scholar, hehehe…” Ferguson’s gaze was nearly mad. “That includes the arcane arts we once took pride in!”

As he spoke, lightning—identical to the Count’s—crackled at Ferguson’s fingertips, only even more powerful.

The Count’s expression changed; with a flash, he appeared beside Hussein, chanting rapidly in a low voice.

Ferguson’s supercharged Chain Lightning had just been unleashed when the Count finished his incantation—a transparent wall of air intercepted the bolt.

“What is this? Spelltheft or just simple mirroring?” The Count was surprised. He could sense that Ferguson’s constructed spell was identical to his own. This should have been impossible—even with the same spell, every mage’s understanding and construction were unique. If everyone’s spell was the same, there would be no need for experimentation; all could simply recite the standard incantation.

This move of Ferguson’s left both the Count and Hussein stunned, neither daring to act rashly.

“Hehehe… As expected of my teacher’s magic—what incredible power! Is there more? Come on, show me more!” Ferguson laughed maniacally.

“Damn! Ferguson is bluffing!” Seeing Hussein and his grandfather at a disadvantage, Bohn realized the danger. Ferguson’s apparent madness was an act—if Bohn hadn’t studied the Defiled Scholar’s lore, even he might have been fooled. With an ability to copy spells, combined with super-magic techniques, Ferguson could return your spells to you—more powerful than before; anyone would find that infuriating.

Mad Insight. Death Knell.

By embracing corruption, forbidden knowledge was gained, granting a power akin to the Copycat Eye, and through the Death Knell, it could be used almost perfectly.

This was the unique ability of the Defiled Scholar!

Years of delving into darkness and forbidden secrets allowed Defiled Scholars to perceive what ordinary people could not—even hallucinations. Legends say they can listen directly to the whispers of otherworldly gods, communicate with them, and receive dark knowledge.

Tormented by endless nightmares, their minds slip into madness; to others, they seem to mutter to themselves in isolation. The changes are not merely behavioral—the very structure of their brains and organs mutates in secret.

By expending a measure of dark energy, they could achieve an effect similar to Bohn’s Arcane Eye—perhaps even clearer.

Hussein glanced at the greatsword in his hands—the blade now nearly half-eaten away by corruption and evil. His heart bled at the sight. Enchanted gear was priceless, enchanted weapons even more so.

Enraged, Hussein’s body began to steam with white vapor. His skin and eyes flushed and glowed, his hair flared like fire. The scent of gunpowder was so strong that even the nearby Count could smell it clearly.

The Count knew that Hussein was truly angry now—meaning he was about to go all out. As Hussein lifted his foot, the Count stopped him.

“Leave this to me! He was my student after all—I must settle this myself.”

With that, the Count strode forward alone.

Hussein watched his friend’s back, grinned, and let his transformation fade. He knew the Count had seen through Ferguson’s ruse.

Seeing the Count approach, Ferguson was momentarily stunned, then broke into an even wilder grin.

“Hehehe… Teacher, display all your arcane arts! Decades of your achievements will be the key to my entrance through the great gate!”

“That’s enough, Ferguson. The most important quality for a spellcaster is composure. Though you try to provoke me with your madness, you’ve only exposed your own weakness. Your frenzied spellcasting is rapidly draining your evil energy.”

The Count spoke slowly: “Do you remember what I told you when you became an arcanist? The most important thing for an arcanist isn’t talent, but the pursuit of knowledge, and the ability to think, to reflect, to think again—only then are you a true arcanist!”

“To seek understanding and explore the essence of things—that is the true key to the great gate!”

As the Count approached, Ferguson grew ever more agitated, spells tainted with corruption flying at the Count.

“Kill me! Use your most prized arcane art to kill me!”

A transparent wall stood firm before the Count, shielding him from Ferguson’s onslaught.

“My strongest arcane art?” The Count looked down at his hands. “Since this is my student’s final request, let it be as you wish…”

...

That day, many in Seventon claimed to have witnessed a miracle—they had seen with their own eyes the Lord of Radiance descend. As the sun was setting, a second sun suddenly appeared over the city. What could that be but the Lord of Radiance himself?

In the days that followed, the clergy at the Amanata Temple noticed a marked increase in worshippers—their donations swelled accordingly.

After this incident, Bohn learned a crucial lesson: Never meddle in the battles of high-ranking professionals, especially when high-level arcanists are present—and above all, never use the chip’s scanner in such situations.

One of the Count’s spells nearly fried his chip!

Count Eolam’s final spell was Solar Flare—an eighth-circle spell!

A massive torrent of information surged into the chip, instantly freezing it.

At dusk, as night was falling, the Count’s spell made it seem as though a new sun had risen over Seventon—a spell far beyond Ferguson’s capabilities.

“No! Impossible… Why can’t I see through it… Aaaaah…” Ferguson didn’t last two seconds before the newborn sun incinerated him to ash.

Hussein, being of fire elemental descent, was unharmed.

Bohn was not so lucky—his Arcane Eye was active at the time, and he was nearly blinded. With the chip’s data collection at full capacity, the deluge of eighth-circle magical data nearly crashed the entire system.

…