"How should I go about it?" This was exactly what Bairon wanted to do, but he began to wonder if Mr. Isabella had a touch of OCD.
"You can learn an advanced Soul spell called 'Oblivion', which will allow you to temporarily forget all spells and start from scratch. Alternatively, use the Strength-based spell 'Flesh' you acquired to strengthen your body. During this process, you can weave a new Magic Pattern using your Mindergy," Charlotte suggested two options.
"I choose the second!" Bairon stated without hesitation.
He neither knew nor intended to use the "Oblivion" spell on himself; the risks were far too high.
"Replenish your Mindergy," Charlotte commanded, without any hint of inquiry.
Both had a decisively straightforward nature.
Bairon glanced around and settled on a clear spot, sitting cross-legged, entering a "Meditation" state.
The source of a magus's power is Mindergy, but no magus Bairon had met could clearly explain its origin.
He'd heard numerous peculiar theories, but one thing was sure: there was a profound connection between a magus's Mindergy and a Spellbeast's mana.
Magi can temporarily replenish Mindergy by absorbing the mana within a mana core, but it's perilous, as the raw power of mana can easily rupture blood vessels and organs.
Although in a state of Meditation, Bairon remained vigilant.
His unique way of staying alert.
If he lost control, he'd end up as another corpse in the Shadeveil Mountains, a fate far removed from that of the Dark Magi.
Two hours later.
Bairon concluded his Meditation.
His Mindergy was restored to about a third, and his magus ring had nearly a third stored, enough to cast ten novice spells.
"Madam, I'm ready," Bairon inhaled deeply, mentally chanting the incantation for the "Flesh" spell.
"Eyes are the windows to the soul," Charlotte repeated.
Bairon closed his eyes again, feeling the light points converging within him, transforming into radiant streams coursing through his veins and muscles.
"Ah—" Bairon suddenly collapsed to the ground.
Excruciating pain, as if someone had brutally torn him apart, skin and bone, shot straight to his mind.
"Can you endure it?"
Charlotte inquired, then added, "The magus who created the Flesh spell had a peculiar sense of humor. But his talent was unparalleled. The spells he crafted are beneficial for novice magi."
"I can!"
Bairon collapsed to the ground, clutching his curled body with both hands.
Gritting his teeth, veins protruded on his forehead, and sweat poured profusely.
The intense pain made time feel agonizingly slow for Bairon, and in his mind, an imaginary clock froze, the second hand motionless.
Hold on, just hold on... Evelyn is waiting for me outside...
"Perfect."
After what felt like an eternity, Charlotte's voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
Bairon delved into his consciousness, witnessing a serpentine pathway of white light weaving through his veins, spanning across his entire body.
Although it seemed so delicate, it radiated an indescribable splendor.
"Thank you," Bairon sincerely expressed his gratitude.
Charlotte replied, "No need. Now, align the remaining spells."
She really does have OCD.
But this was beneficial for Bairon.
Meeting a spell teacher willing to help for free was a rare find.
"Let's continue!" Bairon nodded, channeling the Mindergy within him.
The Mindergy began flowing through the Magic Pattern carved by the "Flesh" spell, sequentially constructing the new Magic Circuits for "Ice Blast," "Flame Fist," "Lightness," and "Meditation," four novice spells.
By the end of the process, half of Bairon's Mindergy was expended.
Yet, upon observing the five distinct types of Magic Circuits within him, he couldn't help but wear a contented smile.
So perfect!
Even Bairon, who didn't suffer from OCD, appreciated the finesse.
Moreover, he sensed a palpable enhancement.
Suddenly, Bairon gazed at the open ground in front of him.
With a clench of his right fist and a swing:
"Ice Blast."
Instantly, an icy shard, three times the size of a human and with a casting range of over thirty meters, materialized.
Both the power and range had increased, showcasing the exponential improvement brought about by a flawless Magic Circuit.
Although it might seem like a mere quantitative change on paper, in actual combat, if an opponent magus can cast only up to ten meters and you can cast up to thirty, it signifies a qualitative leap!
Once again, Bairon sat cross-legged, entering a state of Meditation.
To his surprise, under the state of Meditation, Bairon found that the rate of his Mindergy recovery had tripled!
"Bairon, it's time for you to leave. Someone calls for you."
After an undeterminable amount of time, Charlotte's voice echoed once again.
Ending his Meditation, Bairon surveyed his surroundings, then stood up, declaring, "Madam, I'll come to see you again someday."
With those words, he vanished on the spot.
"Hee hee hee hee..."
A spine-chilling laughter resonated in the high skies.
In the heavens, a massive humanoid apparition faintly swayed.
"He's fallen for it! He's fallen for it!" The phantom's voice quivered with excitement.
At the entrance of the Dark Tower, a new name glaringly appeared on a piece of parchment:
"Bairon·Stewart."
...
After a brief moment of dizziness, Bairon opened his eyes.
Recognizing his bedroom, he checked his pockets.
The mana core he had previously fed to "the Dark Tower" was gone.
Clenching his fist, he observed the muscles on his arm, remnants of the "Flesh" spell still palpable.
"It seems I was physically transported there," Bairon murmured.
Suddenly, he heard a faint moan coming from upstairs.
Recalling the words of the statue lady, Charlotte Isabella, his face turned pale as he raced to the second floor.
Opening Evelyn's door, Bairon found her curled up on the bed.
Patches of greyish-black hardened skin emerged on her face.
Evelyn was in a semi-conscious state.
Greyscale was acting up!
"Evelyn, where's your medicine?" Bairon frantically searched the bedside drawer.
Although the magi of Sailport couldn't cure Greyscale, there was a medicine distributed by the magus guild, which could suppress the symptoms.
Turning the drawer upside down, Bairon only found an empty medicine bottle.
"Hold on, I'll get your medicine right away!" Bairon declared, turning to leave.
Minutes later, Bairon appeared on the third floor of the Magus Tower.
In the Magus Tower, there are two types of magi: those dispatched by the Magus Guild as stewards, the administrators, and those who affiliate themselves under the Magus Tower.
The latter earn contribution points by undertaking various tasks for the tower.
These points can be exchanged for gold, or other items within the tower, such as scrolls, staffs, magus rings, magus robes with Magic Patterns, and more.
What Bairon sought was the medicine to suppress Greyscale.
"It's out of stock. Last month, there was a spell-storm in the Giant Beast Ocean, and the ships transporting goods were held up at Seacape Island," Bront replied coldly, a look of indifference on his face.
In truth, there was stock left in the storage.
But to Bront, there seemed no point in disclosing this.
As the steward of the third floor of Magus Tower, and despite being a non-magus blooded commoner, he looked down on Bairon's urgency.
It was well-known in Sailport that Bairon had audaciously challenged Lawrence, the illegitimate son of the esteemed Rueel the magus, to a duel.
In Bront's eyes, Bairon was already as good as dead.
Why waste such precious medicine on a dead man?
However, in the blink of an eye, Bront felt a massive force grip his throat.
With ease, Bairon lifted him off his feet, his voice cold and demanding, "I'll ask you one more time, where is the medicine?"
Knowing the Magus Tower's inventory and stock procedures in detail, especially to ensure Evelyn never ran out of her medicine, Bairon was confident that even if there truly was a disruption last month, there should still be enough stock left.
"This... this is the Magus Tower," Bront choked out in a threatening tone.
Bairon smirked, "Yes, I killed someone here this morning. I won't mind adding one more."
A flash of realization hit Bront as he recalled poor Snooty, a promising young man entrusted with guarding the grand hall, even groomed to be the personal guard for the future Chief Steward.
But he met a swift end, reduced to shards of ice.
"It's... it's over there," gasping for air, Bront pointed weakly to an iron box nearby.
With a disdainful huff, Bairon threw him aside, heading to the iron box.
Inside, just as expected, lay six bottles of the Greyscale-suppressing medicine.
Without hesitation, Bairon took five bottles at once.
According to the rules of the Magus Tower, a single low-tier Dark Magus token could be exchanged for half a bottle of the medicine.
Bairon had handed in twelve tokens, so the six bottles were rightfully his.
The moment Bront hit the ground, he rolled away, scrambling on all fours towards the exit, then yelled out in a raspy voice, "Help! There's a thief!"
Soon after, Rueel, accompanied by a group of magi and Bront, returned to the scene.
"It was Bairon! He's robbed the treasury!" Bront exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Bairon.
Bairon's eyes turned icy, and with a swift punch, he invoked: "Ice Blast!"
In an instant, Bront, who was less than twenty meters away, transformed into a life-sized ice sculpture.
One of the magi nearby touched the statue, and it immediately shattered into pieces.
"Bairon! You dare kill in my presence?!" Rueel bellowed in anger.
"I merely came for what's rightfully mine. But since he labeled it as robbery, I guess I had to live up to that accusation. It's only considered robbery when there's a murder involved, wouldn't you say, Chief Steward?" Bairon replied with a chilling smirk.