Chapter 30:

Chapter 30 - Foster's Tribulation

The Dreamer's Fall


Foster nervously gazed at Arthur. "Young master, it's even scarier if you claim to be a human who can raise the dead at age thirteen."

"I can't raise the dead just yet. I told you, the spell is incomplete." Arthur laughed and pointed to the corpse before removing his control and letting it fall limply to the ground. "That is just a puppet with no will of its own. You can think of it as being similar to my hidden blades, although my spell provides much more control."

"Nehk-crew-mankcy..." Foster mouthed the foreign word with some difficulty. "It's difficult to pronounce. Does it have some meaning? Since you're giving life to the dead, why not go with something simpler, like life-weaving?"

"Ha! See, kid! Even the pretty boy agrees with me!" Kyren shouted with glee.

Of course, Foster didn't hear his suggestion, so Arthur just rolled his eyes. If he called it life-weaving magic, he'd feel like some saint doing miracles in the name of some holy goddess or something, so the suggestion was quickly shot down.

"It's pronounced neck-crow-man-see. It's not necessarily the name of the spell. It's a classification of magic that focuses on controlling the dead—kind of like how you would call a mage who focuses on fire magic a pyromancer. Someone who practices necromancy is called a necromancer. Anyway, don't worry about names for now. I need help."

Foster scratched his head. "I don't know Aetherin, young master. I don't think I can help with your necromancy."

Arthur pointed to the corpse. "I don't need help with that. I need you to crack open his skull and grab the mana core from inside. Ah! But be careful not to break it. It's located at the base of his skull where the skull connects to the spine."

Foster's face went blank as if his mind had short-circuited "...What?"

Arthur feigned shame as he spoke. "I need the mana core to test a theory I have, but when I tried to do it, I felt sick. You wouldn't make a thirteen-year-old boy hack away at a corpse, would you? What happens if I grow up to be a deranged maniac?"

Foster's expression remained fixed. "...What?"

Arthur sighed as his expression returned to its resting, stoic look. "Take your sword out and get to chopping."

"...What?"

After a few more attempts at convincing him, Foster finally broke from his stupor and stationed himself over the corpse with his sword drawn.

"Young master, are you sure there's even a mana core in there? What about this fancy fur rug? You don't want to get blood all over it, do you?" Foster whined in an attempt to escape his fate while staring into the corpse's eyes.

"I'm sure. Don't worry about the rug. Just start chopping." Arthur replied nonchalantly as he wiped down his face and got dressed.

He wasn't mentally scarring Foster for the fun of it. Instead, Arthur had a theory that he may be able to use the mana core to cast spells using its mana as a source.

He also wanted to test whether the core required a medium, such as a body, to function. If it did, he needed to know if he could grant the mana core a new medium, such as an inanimate object like a staff.

It went without saying that having an extra fourth circle mana core at his disposal would result in a major boon toward his overall safety, so he didn't want to just smash it and get rid of the body without testing his theories.

Arthur heard Foster psych himself up behind him before a goosebump-inducing wet cracking sound echoed through the tent.

"Ugh." Foster gagged as he witnessed the scene beneath him. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"What happened to the tough guy who was gonna peck Agelian's to death? I believe in you, Foster! You got this!" Arthur cheered despite refusing to turn around and join Foster in his tribulation.

After a few minutes of gags, dry heaving, and sounds only a mortician could withstand, the deed was done. Arthur grabbed the rag he used to wipe down his face before blindly handing it to Foster to cover the mess.

"Young master, please don't make me do that again in the future." A pale-faced Foster pled as Arthur turned and faced him.

Arthur received the bloody blue crystal from him and dunked it in the bucket of water Senna had brought in earlier. Curiously, it appeared to shine in a pale blue light. It wasn't very noticeable due to the lighting of the tent, but it was definitely producing faint light on its own.

It was perfectly spherical and no larger than a quarter. It looked similar to the abyssal core he had seen yesterday, except that it was clear blue in color instead of crimson.

Arthur was curious if it was simply an aesthetic choice in Minaan's version of the spell or if it held a more profound meaning.

Unfortunately, the answer to that question lay beyond him, and he quickly drew in his curiosity. "No promises, but I'll try to handle it myself in the future. A necromancer should be comfortable with such things after all."

"Yeah, sure... Anyway, I'm gonna go throw up now." Foster announced as he hurriedly turned to leave.

Arthur quickly removed his gaze from the mana core and stopped him. "After you're done throwing up, bring some of the guards to get rid of the corpse. Once it's been taken care of, have the guards gather here. I want to talk to them."

Foster nodded and rushed out of the tent in a flash, leaving only Kyren and Arthur behind.

Arthur could still feel a connection to the mana core despite losing its host, so he urged it to produce the simple flame spell he had used earlier. However, when he tried to form the spell, the core radiated a burst of mana in all directions without forming a magic circle. He tried again, but the result stayed the same.

Arthur frowned. He had been expecting this possibility, so it wasn't too disappointing, but that hadn't stopped him from hoping it would work.

The problem was simple. If humans casting magic through their arms was like writing with a paintbrush, then casting magic with a naked core was like trying to write by exploding a spray paint can. The mana lacked direction, and since Arthur was already using his mana to stimulate the core, he couldn't direct the mana that the core produced.

It might be possible if he could double-cast magic, but that was far beyond his ability at the moment, and there was no guarantee it would work anyway. For Arthur to use it now, he needed to create another medium, such as a staff or wand, but just gluing it to a stick wouldn't work either.

He likely needed to enchant it somehow so the staff could accept the mana from the core and direct it. Unfortunately, enchanting was another school of magic that didn't exist on Nithe.

Arthur already had his hands full, inventing and expanding necromancy. He didn't have the time to research another type of magic right now.

He grabbed his head in frustration when he came to the disappointing conclusion that a magic staff was currently beyond his capabilities.

Looking through his fingers, he saw Kyren smirking at him. "Remind me again why you haven't learned Aetherin yet?"

If Kyren knew Aetherin, the problem would be solved. Arthur could assign him to work on enchanting magic while Arthur could focus on necromancy. It would be difficult since Kyren couldn't write anything down or research on his own, but as long as he thought up a clue, Arthur could finish the spell himself.

Kyren scoffed. "The shit's that supposed to mean? I'm a battlemage, remember? I ain't some weakling scholar stuffing my nose in a book all day like you."

"I don't know what that means. According to Levin, plenty of battlemages learn Aetherin as a hobby, and you literally have all the time in the world."

"Who cares what that four-eyes has to say." Kyren waved his hand dismissively. "I already told ya I ain't clever like you. It all looks like chicken scratch to me."

"I don't know how you got it into your head that I'm some genius or something, but I'm really not. I just so happen to know a little more than the people of this world, thanks to my rebirth going awry. If I was a genius, then you'd be in a new body, and I'd be immortal by now."

It was Arthur's honest assessment of himself. He liked to believe he was blessed with above-average intellect, but most average people likely thought the same. He felt that his self-awareness to admit that fact was what set him apart from others and nothing more.

On Earth, he was lazy and apathetic, and if it wasn't for his experience in the afterlife acting as his driving force, he wouldn't have struggled so hard to learn magic.

"Call yourself whatever ya want, but I know the clever type when I see 'em. That little hidden blade in your sleeve is proof enough. Whether or not you lived for a few decades in another world don't change the fact that you've only been here for thirteen years.

I may not know how to read Aetherin, but I do know it ain't some language to be mastered within a few years, yet here you are already making puppets out of corpses."

"I'm not even close to mastering Aetherin, and if it wasn't for my ancestor's journal—" Arthur's head suddenly perked up as he crumbled his brow. "—Wait! How the crap did you suddenly turn this around on me?"

Kyren ignored him and pointed his chin toward the canvas flap connecting the bedroom to the drawing room. "Too bad, we're outta time. Pretty boy's back with his friends."



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