Eidolons are beings of pure Mana, born inside the Reverse Boundary of the World. Sometimes, they'll crawl their way out into the Physical Realm and wreak absolute havoc. They're incarnations of malice that instinctively seek to harm any kind of intelligent life despite being fully sentient.
Laemno's fingers repeatedly tapped the leather binding, itching to take out his writing set and scribble his thoughts. However, he knew that it went against the notebook's rules.
I guess you can't expect anything less from beings whose origin is casually called "Sea of Malice." If they're as dangerous as described, I don't really see humankind surviving against them. How did they do it? With the help of magecraft, I presume.
After calming his ebbing thoughts, Laemno turned the page, his silvery eyes darting across the blocs of text.
This is interesting. There are actually no records of humans born with a natural aptitude for magecraft. Does this mean that magi are engineered in some way or another? Hmm...
He traced the following lines of Heriperan script with a slender finger, making sure to absorb every word.
That's it! While they're not born with the ability to manipulate Mana, humans can artificially acquire it. It's a dangerous method that involves flooding one's body with pure Mana. By withstanding its corruption, an individual can effectively gain power and knowledge directly from the Reverse Boundary of the World, thus becoming a magus.
This method is called an Insight Ritual, and the abilities acquired through it depend on several factors, such as the symbols, incantations, and relics used. After countless trials and errors, human magi managed to document twenty-five different Insight Rituals. They're labeled Sorceries, with every type divided into ten magus classes, each with unique aptitudes.
Laemno frowned, noticing that the word twenty-five was crossed. An added note was written in the blank space above it, displaying twenty-six.
Was it a mistake? Or did this notebook's owner do it on purpose?
Unable to find an answer, Laemno resumed his reading. The next piece of information piqued his interest.
There is actually another way of manipulating Mana, although it's rough and primitive. Unlike normal magi, an individual using this method won't have a natural defense against Mana's corruption, nor will they be as skillful with its control. Still, for basic tasks, it can achieve acceptable results with minimal consequences.
In short, it involves sparking temporary mystical reactions using the atmospheric Mana, mainly thanks to specific materials and rituals.
When he turned the page, Laemno found the first written warning, highlighted with red ink.
Basic magecraft, when not used by a magus, is still extremely dangerous. Do not attempt any undocumented spell. Follow the instructions.
Further down, on this section's third page, three spells were listed with their relevant details. He scanned through them, gaining a rough understanding of their capabilities and risks.
In summary, basic magecraft is separated into three categories: perception, enhancement, and hypnosis. A simple spell of perception magecraft will allow me to see the flow of Mana for a few seconds. With it, I can accurately determine if someone is using magecraft, have a rough estimate of their strength, and locate residuals of their Mana.
The problem is that by increasing my perceptive abilities, I'll be able to observe things normal humans shouldn't see. The aggressive Eidolons aside, Dead and Natural Spirits won't always attack people. However, if I perceive them, they'll also notice me, which doesn't bode well for a non-magus like me.
Moreover, seeing the flow of Mana means being subject to its corruption. It's advised that I shouldn't use perception magecraft more than twice per day, or I'll likely collapse on the spot.
Next, there's enhancement magecraft. The recorded spell allows me to coat specific body parts with Mana, significantly strengthening them. The result is simple, but the backlash is terrifying.
Since I'm not a magus, my body isn't acclimated to Mana, meaning I'll suffer great damage each time I use enhancement magecraft. Worst case scenario, my muscles will atrophy, my bones will break, or I'll just die from weakness.
Laemno couldn't help but grimace at that warning. Dying sure is easy in this world.
The last documented spell comes from hypnosis magecraft. It's complicated to put in place, but it is still the least risky one for me. It can be used to deeply bewitch someone by following very specific steps and speaking an established keyword. Since I'm employing a medium to focus the flow of Mana, I don't need to withstand its corruption.
Its only weaknesses are that it won't work more than once with the same target and that it's useless against magi.
Laemno immediately realized the value of such a spell in his situation. If anything, this was his most powerful weapon right now and maybe the key to his escape.
This brand of Mana manipulation is called spellcraft. It's weak compared to real magecraft and nearly useless in a battle against magi, but in my situation, it's the best thing I can ask for. Aside from the fact that I don't need an Insight Ritual to use it, spellcraft employs Mana directly from the atmosphere. This means that it leaves almost no residuals and can't be traced back to me since it doesn't contain my signature.
After skimming through the ingredients and preparatory steps needed for each spell, Laemno reached the end of the first section. Under the last bloc of text, another warning was written in reddish ink, reading:
Do not open the second section before leaving Priene.
That was the notebook's ninth rule. Laemno guessed that the second section delved a little deeper into the Insight Rituals and magecraft in itself, thus likely incurring a greater risk of attracting a response from the flow of Mana. It could easily be noticed by the Temple of Stars' magi, who were probably stationed in the Luminous House.
Still, there's something that has been nagging me... Why would the second "assassin" go to such lengths to help me? I doubt I know him since he went through the hassle of impersonating Father Agathon. He's not part of the Temple of Stars either since they want to complete the Sacrificial Ceremony.
Perhaps my initial guess was correct, and I've been embroiled in an invisible conflict between two hidden factions. They both want to ruin the Sacrificial Ceremony, but while one wants me dead, the other wishes to keep me alive. I'm walking in the dark here; simple cautiousness won't cut it. Maybe I'll need to throw the notebook away after my escape.
Laemno closed the notebook and slid it underneath his tunic alongside the triangular mirror. Then, he walked out of his chambers and grabbed the smallest amphora he could find. Back in his bedroom, he filled the round, ornate pottery with water from his jar and placed it above the silvery table. Finally, he lighted a candle using the smoldering fireplace, though it took him quite a few tries.
Outside his floor-to-ceiling windows, serene twilight bathed the white-and-silver sea of buildings, giving birth to a mesmerizing sight.
There should be at least an hour before dinner. I'll have time to finish everything before I'm disturbed.
Following the notebook's instructions, Laemno tore out its second page—the eerie one repeatedly filled with the word Congratulations. It would not only serve as a shared catalyst for the three spells since he lacked access to mystical ingredients but also significantly shorten the crafting process.
He proceeded to burn the page with the candle. As soon as the reddish flame made contact with the papyrus, it turned white, quickly spreading across its surface.
Its speed surprised Laemno, who nearly dropped the piece of paper. However, he remembered the notebook's instructions and held on to it. The white flame devoured the papyrus in a matter of seconds, but it didn't burn his skin, no matter how close it got. In fact, it didn't even emit heat, which he found odd.
The ashes fell into the small, water-filled amphora, immediately darkening the transparent liquid to black. Under Laemno's focused gaze, the blackness slightly receded, condensing into a dark paste at the bottom of the pot.
Having previously aligned several small oil flasks on the table, Laemno started by emptying the now gray liquid into the makeshift vials. Afterward, he manually separated the thick paste into two equal parts:
The first one was sculpted into five finger-sized sticks left to harden on the table.
The second one underwent a little more processing. Laemno added a few droplets of blood from the gash on his palm, which turned it reddish. Somehow, it made the product highly flammable, and he easily lit it on fire with the candle. The paste liquefied under the pink flames, becoming a transparent, tar-like substance.
"Alright! It's done."
Laemno couldn't help but smile as he poured the viscous substance into the remaining oil flasks, making sure to distinguish them by color. Thankfully, his clothing was ample and left more than enough space for him to fasten the vials on his belt right underneath the tunic. The black sticks would melt quickly in contact with his skin, so he wrapped them in thick cloth and skilfully attached them under his sleeves.
Finally, he cleaned up everything, leaving no traces of his cooking.
With this, I won't be completely helpless if the first assassin attacks me. The gray liquid is for perception magecraft. One drop in the eye, and I'll be able to observe Mana for about forty seconds. The black sticks are for enhancement magecraft. They'll melt instantly in contact with my skin and coat the designated limb with strengthening Mana. I only have five, so I'll need to make them count.
As for the transparent substance, it's the catalyst for hypnosis magecraft. The spell's ritual is simple. Smearing a target with the tar-like paste and speaking a keyword places a hypnotic cue in their mind. To activate it, I need to draw a spiraling symbol and repeat the keyword, putting the bewitched individual under my control. Using my blood in the preparation was to designate me as the "hypnotizer," making me immune to its effects.
Laemno jumped around, ensuring his flasks were properly adjusted and wouldn't randomly fall off.
"I'd imagine it would be a disaster if they were to drop on someone accidentally."
While he pondered half-seriously about that scenario, hurried footsteps echoed outside his wing. Nearly at the same time, the booming sound of a bell reverberated across the Divine Capital.
The next moment, Laemno's bedroom door opened, and one of the armored guards entered, accompanied by a bald, black-bearded clergyman around his late forties.
The man immediately bowed, his back arched so low that it reminded Laemno of Father Agathon's macabre post-death reverence.
"O Honored One! Blessed of the Heavens and the Gods Beyond! We have great news!"
Laemno frowned at the man's zealous attitude. He briefly paused before asking, "What is it?"
The clergyman adjusted his posture, a beaming smile on his face. Sparks of excitation glistened in his blue eyes, and he spread his arms, taking a praying pose. Behind him, the armored guard was on his knee; one closed fist on the ground while the other held his spear.
"The seven-pointed star began its radiant ascension. After four hundred years, we will finally achieve the wish of the Nameless Saint once more. O Celestial Offering, Her Divine Majesty has spoken. The Sacrificial Ceremony will take place in six days!"