Deon gazed at the dead replete stuck inside a sinkhole.
He still could not believe that Finn was capable of using spells from three different elements.
Fire Burst, Wind Slash, and Erode were all Tier-1 spells but Deon had never known another combat Almagi proficient in all three.
"Hey kid, what are you dazing around for?" Mikael asked.
"It's just… Sir Finn is truly amazing…"
"Really? How so?"
Deon looked exasperated at Mikael's casual comment.
But then again, an ignorant person will treat a diamond like common glass unless they knew its real value.
Deon sighed.
"Sir, I did explain before that a combat Almagi needs to memorize numerous complex mana circle configurations, understand difficult Almageia theories, and meticulously concoct blood ink, right?" Deon said.
"Right." Mikael agreed, remembering their conversation as they entered the capital—that seemed like ages ago, but it was actually less than a week before.
"Because doing that even for just one element is difficult—Almost torturous, Combat Almagi usually specializes in only one or two elements.
After all, who in their right minds would want to be stuck in lower tiers just to master multiple elements when they can just stick to one and use higher tiers that have exponentially increasing power output?" Deon's eyes widened at the incredulity.
He looked like a gossiper who just told an outrageous story and wanted the listener to agree with him.
"Yeah…It's like comparing a person with three undergraduate degrees and a person with Ph.D." Mikael murmured.
After hearing his expected response, Deon continued his explanation,
"Each element requires a mana circle configuration and blood ink dedicated to itself.
So, in the heat of the battle where a second of inattention may lead to death, a Combat Almagi has to concentrate really hard to draw the proper circle and use the correct ink otherwise he would be faced with a spell malfunction.
Every attack has its risk.
In this sense, spells may be very powerful, but they require too much from the Almagi. Higher tiers demand even more so-- Time, precision, and ink supply.
This is why very few people choose the path of an Almagi."
Just imagining the effort needed to do those with two or more elements nearly drove Deon mad.
He could never understand the Almagi's passion for learning.
"I've been thinking about this since earlier, but why does Finn use only one brush? Wouldn't it be more efficient to use two or three like painters do?" Mikael remembered how slow Finn was when drawing his unorthodox spells because of all the vial changing.
"Sir, Magusteen wood is extremely hard to log. In fact, Magusteen forests are considered forbidden lands due to the thick mana fog that surrounds them, which causes auditory and visual hallucinations.
Only registered loggers can harvest the wood and because of the danger involved in collecting it, only a small amount of brushes are produced per year, causing their price to soar and for the king to regulate their distribution."
"oh… so that's why…" Mikael nodded in understanding then, another question popped into his mind, "Also, didn't you say Finn's Tier-1 fire spell was three times more powerful than normal? Isn't that equivalent to a Tier-2 fire spell, then?"
"No. Sir Finn's unconventional attack was indeed stronger than normal but it still cannot compare to the power of a tier-2 spell.
If a normal tier-1 is an ember, then Sir Finn's version is like a flickering flame but a Tier-2 is a blazing fire."
Tap…
Nora tapped Deon's shoulder.
"Ah! I'm sorry, Dame. Did you say something?" Deon apologized for his inattention.
'huh? Did Dame Nora cry? Her eyes are red…' but knowing her personality, Deon knew she would not appreciate him asking if she was fine, so he just let it go.
"Yes. I asked if the prince could help me take out that man." She respectfully inquired.
"Ah…" Deon pursed his lips.
Since the replete was stuck in the hole, it would be very difficult for the one-armed Dame to rescue the man inside. Added to the fact that Finn was extremely stingy with his ink supply, Deon doubted that he would volunteer for the job.
"Sir Mikael, can't you use your psychokinesis to lift the ant corpse?" Deon whispered to his partner.
"Nope. my skill is limited to non-living objects so even though the ant is dead, as there's a living person inside it, my skill won't work."
Ultimately, Nora and Deon had to do it by themselves.
Deon stabbed along the fracture lines and after half an hour, they finally managed to break open the Replete's abdominal shell large enough to fit the sleeping man inside.
Yellow liquid spilled to the sides as they struggled to hoist the unconscious man.
"Ugh!" Deon grunted, holding the man under his arms.
The slippery surface made the work even more difficult.
"AHH!!" Deon slipped on the monster slime and hit the back of his head, "Ugh…"
Deon winced.
'What am I doing? I'm a prince… how could a prince look so undignified?'
This hunting competition was beginning to take its toll on Deon's self-esteem that he began to wonder if he was even a prince at all.
"Your Highness, are you alright?" Dame Nora expressed her concern, "I'm sorry that you have to do this, Prince,"
The dame glanced at her stumped arm with remorse. The redness in her eyes made her appear frail, prompting Deon to respond quickly, "No. Dame, I'm fine."
Mikael shook his head, wondering how a prince could be such a doormat**
Finn approached the hole and looked down on Deon and Nora, "How is he? Still alive?" he pointed a finger to the man who was soaked in yellow slime as if he was a newborn baby.
Dame Nora grabbed the man's wrist and briefly paused, "Yes. he's still alive but his pulse is too weak."
"I believe that's just a temporary effect of the preservation liquid. I'm sure he'll come around in a few minutes. For now, let's take him to the Midden."
And with that, Deon and his companions saved another victim of the ant colony.
--Chapter end--
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**Doormat- A person who lets other people treat them badly, and they don't complain or defend themselves when they are being treated unfairly because they think that's being selfish. In short, they always give in to others' demands. (a pushover)