Now, Livia chants steadily grow louder, the odd words flow out of her mouth as if they were as natural as breathing. She drops her right arms and turns her palm to the ground. Her hand a scrap on it that was still bleeding. A single drop of her blood falls to the ground. The wind begins to swirl around her as an unnatural quiet fall over the forest. The very air around her hums along with her words, in complete sync.
Once the chant is finished there is no bright flashing light, no purple sparkles, or glowing sigil in the air. The natural sound of the forest resumes, the wind returns to normal, and Livia's arms drop limply to her side. If any other being had witnessed her, they would just see some crazy, delusional girl yelling at nothing.
The magic of this world didn't require long lengthy chants, not unless you were doing a specific and outdated ritual. No, it was showy and pretty with bright beams of light, glittering colors, and so on.
The Old Ones' magic had no such thing.
It was an ancient and dangerous power that taped into the very nature of the world, wild and chaotic, finicky and fickle, push and pull, and generally invisible to the eye. It was no easy feat to tap into it. You had to be respectful but firm, and it required a level of focus that few would be able to keep steady.
There was a deeply engrained balance to it. It was the type of power that couldn't be abused, not without paying a price. But it was also the type of power that let you bend the very nature of the world like any other. It pushed the limits, it made impossible feats possible.
No, it was nothing like the magic that the humans, elves, demons, and other beings of Etheria used. Livia wouldn't be able to one-shot anyone with it. She wouldn't be able to have a thrilling battle with it, like an overpowered adventure and hero or heroine.
The Old Ones' magic was subtle. But just because it wasn't seen and couldn't flatten mountains doesn't mean it wasn't equally devastating, perhaps it was even more so. Livia likened it to a slow poison without a cure. There was something unmoving and almost inevitable about the ancient power.
Livia didn't need the power. Just like every human on Etheria, she was born with magic. It was ingrain. With training, discipline, and practice, she could certainly expand her magic capacity, especially as an adventurer.
The thing is, there are a strict, intricate ranking and leveling system in the world of Etheria. It's something she never really paid attention to since she had thought her magic capabilities were nothing to give a second thought to. It was rather common. Not everyone had an expansive pool of magi power or MP to use. So, Livia had absolutely nothing to do with it and even avoided gaining access to the Ranks, because of it.
She hadn't wanted to be reminded at the one thing she failed at and could do nothing about.
Which leaves her very blindsided.
Livia has no clue what level anyone was at, what skills they might have, and so on.
This means she needs something to give her an edge over the rest of the world, something that no one could hope to defend against, something she could use to her complete advantage. While she did know the showy, and ingrained magic that all beings of Etheria used, she only knew what she learned during her second life, and it only covered the basic defense, healing and offensive spells, and a whole lot of nasty hexes and curses.
Apparently, whoever she was had not been interested in the glowly magic that everyone was using, not unless it was something vicious and mean. But a lot of others no doubt new those same spells as well, and who knows how many things have changed and been improved on since her second life.
This leaves her to the Old Ones' ways in magic, which was external and boosted her own to a certain extent. It was completely foreign. She knew it was because even in her second life it had been all but nonexistence. Now, there was not even a whisper of such beings ever existing.
The old chant was for a spell that hid the truth from all but her. It used dark elements like the blood of the caster and the two full moons.
The body of the Emperor hides a secret that Saer hasn't discovered yet. Once he does, he would come looking for his brothers' body.
In the original story, Saer simply retrieves the remains from the Royal Tombs underneath the Palace, feels a small ounce of remorse, before carrying on and using his brother in an old ritual that let him gain access to the secret the Eastern Empire had once buried long ago.