The daytime passed without any change due to the arrival of the group of adventurers. Fars continued his leisurely routine, having developed a habit of daydreaming while holding the phoenix egg. Though it seemed like daydreaming, he was actually deep in thought. As he grew more familiar with the egg, it began to show signs of life, even without him entering a meditative state. The mysterious runes on the eggshell flickered, almost as if they were breathing in a peculiar rhythm, like a heartbeat. Fars found himself increasingly fond of the phoenix egg.
He particularly enjoyed the cool aura that the egg now emitted, a delightful sensation for a vampire who favored the chill. Fars recalled that the egg hadn't reacted this way initially; it was only after he first held it during meditation that it began to show other signs of life beyond the flickering runes. Could it be that he truly had a connection with it? Fars had pondered this question many times. However, if merely holding it every day could hatch a phoenix, one might argue that vampires, as an undead race, shared some distant kinship with the legendary phoenix!
As the light in the corridor dimmed, the sun, having illuminated the land all day, seemed weary as it sank below the horizon, leaving behind a lingering glow of fiery clouds that clung to the sky.
Night was about to fall, and Fars planned to fill his stomach before figuring out how to deal with the adventurers. Yet, he was curious about the structure of a vampire's body. He could drain the life force from beasts larger than himself without feeling bloated. Yet, he grew hungry easily; spending a day in his small room, aside from meditating, didn't consume much energy. But come nightfall, if he didn't feed, the thirst for blood would kick in. He had once tried to go a night without feeding, and by the next day, he felt as if he hadn't eaten for three days, yearning for anything edible. That time, he had to drink from three intermediate beasts just to satiate his hunger temporarily.
Drinking a lot wasn't a problem; the Qihar Mountain Range was teeming with various magical beasts, and Fars's strength was steadily increasing. He had a profound understanding of this: his mental and magical powers had improved significantly. Thanks to the formation in his sea of consciousness, the effects of his meditations now surpassed those of multiple sessions from his past life, and his magical energy was becoming more refined and pure. Unlike high-level mages with exceptionally strong magical energy, most high-level mages only had a few times the magical energy of intermediate mages. Their ability to cast high-level spells depended on the purity of their magical energy. A high-level spell could drain an intermediate mage's energy, but a high-level mage could unleash multiple high-level spells. This wasn't simply because their magical energy was much more robust; different levels of power required corresponding levels of strength to wield.
Currently, Fars's magical energy had reached the peak of an intermediate mage, capable of casting nearly ten intermediate spells before exhausting his energy. However, his capacity was large, and he still had significant room for growth. Fars hadn't learned any high-level spells yet, but given his magical energy's purity and quantity, he could essentially cast a high-level spell without overextending himself.
Mages were generally selfish; they typically only taught their spells to their descendants or direct disciples. Most spells learned through the Mage Association's library were low to mid-level, while truly profound knowledge required significant contributions to the association in exchange.
Fars hadn't anticipated approaching the level of a high-level mage so quickly, especially without preparation in his previous life. Now, he was on the brink of becoming one, yet unable to harness that power, which troubled him greatly. He longed to find a high-level spellbook somewhere, as he didn't expect to obtain one from the Mage Association. If he went there, he'd be lucky not to be treated as an experimental subject. Joining another vampire family might not guarantee access to high-level spellbooks either, aside from the Reimer family, which housed many mad mage vampires. Sighing, he decided to let things unfold naturally. Although he could only use some ordinary spells, once he truly stepped into the high-level realm, their effectiveness would not be lacking. High-level mages didn't frequently use high-level spells; in combat, they often relied on mid to low-level spells, which were both quick to cast and powerful.
In addition to his growing magical energy, Fars also felt his physical strength increasing. Without his clothes, he appeared far from the frail image of a mage; his tall frame had no excess fat, and beneath his pale skin lay immense power. By vampire standards, Fars was nearing the level of a vampire noble. Yet, he sensed that his body was still improving; he had merely brushed the surface of the noble level. How could his noble bloodline compare to that of ordinary vampires?
Regardless, if the adventuring team that had been troubling Fars suffered significant losses, especially if it was just that high-level swordsman, he would dare to take action. With his near high-level mage strength, combined with the body of a vampire noble and powerful blood magic, it wouldn't be impossible to take on that swordsman alone. Even if he were at a disadvantage, the swordsman wouldn't be able to do much against him. However, the current situation was that they had the numbers, and their teamwork was seamless, with mages, warriors, archers, and thieves all present. If he attempted a sneak attack, he couldn't avoid the archer's keen senses, and a direct confrontation would mean struggling to take down the warriors and that dual-handed swordsman quickly. Revealing himself too soon without achieving anything was not what Fars wanted to see.
Although the adventuring team was exhausted from the previous night, their main force remained unharmed; they were merely fatigued. After a day of rest, they would be a formidable team again. As for that opportunistic mole, Fars didn't hold high hopes for it. Like him, it feared sunlight, preventing it from continuously pursuing the adventurers, and it was no match for the cunning of the thief.
Fars had begun to wish they would leave soon; the meat hanging before him was tantalizing yet unattainable, which was quite distressing. However, the gods did not grant Fars this small wish. The rested adventurers showed no signs of exiting the Qihar Mountain Range. If they only returned with the magical core of that sword-stabbing rhinoceros, their haul would be far from sufficient. Counting it all, each member of the team would barely average a thousand gold coins. Considering the life-threatening risks of entering this beast-infested paradise, the captain would find it hard to justify such meager rewards to his team.
After a day of rest, the group appeared to be in good spirits. As night fell, they hadn't yet slept, gathering around a campfire. Fars worked efficiently; after satisfying his hunger, he quickly located them. Night wasn't the best time for hunting, and although they had rested well during the day, the area was still fraught with danger, so caution was wise. They seemed to be discussing something, but the atmosphere was harmonious, with no arguments.
This time, Fars didn't plan to watch them from the sky. He had done that too often lately, and he already had a good grasp of their strength. It was unlikely he could remain unnoticed. However, he also didn't intend to launch a night raid; he merely wanted to get closer and listen to their conversation. Knowing their intentions would make it much easier to devise a plan against them.
Casting a few concealment spells on himself and retracting his wings, which spanned two and a half meters—longer than the average noble—he steadied himself and slowly approached them.
The thief was nearby the campfire and wasn't on guard, so getting within twenty meters should be easy without detection. It was dark, and with the nearby magical beasts, even if they sensed they were being watched, it would be normal. For Fars, twenty meters was close enough to hear their conversation clearly.
Several thin branches were stuck into the ground around the campfire, with pieces of meat sizzling and dripping oil, turning golden brown. Fortunately, Fars had just eaten, and his dietary habits had changed; otherwise, it would have been hard to say whether he would have drooled after years without tasting meat.
The archer named Jessy occasionally turned the meat over; this was a task all adventurers would do, but if there was a skilled female companion in the group, these rugged men would certainly prefer not to do it themselves.
It seemed that the warrior named Moza made a slightly risqué joke, eliciting laughter from his teammates, and he received a sharp pinch from the somewhat blushing Jessy.
"Damn Moza, can't you be serious? Be careful, your filthy mouth might attract all the magical beasts in the Qihar Mountain Range, and you'll end up getting yourself killed," Jessy couldn't help but take a jab at him. Moza had dared to joke about her and the man she admired, Carter. While she did have feelings for Carter, he was a married man with a gentle and virtuous wife. Although she had long harbored feelings for him, Carter had always kept a distance.
Carter, one of the subjects of the joke, quickly stepped in to smooth things over: "Moza, if you keep talking nonsense, I'll make you face the magical beasts tomorrow. Don't blame me for being ruthless; I might just break a few of your ribs."
"Pfft, Carter, I'm not saying you're wrong, but a girl as good as Jessy, I dream of marrying her, yet you keep ignoring her. What a waste of Jessy!" Moza continued fearlessly, provoking another round of playful hits from Jessy.
But jokes were just that—jokes. Everyone knew that in this damned forest, if they didn't find some fun, they could easily get stifled. So, after each adventure, these weathered men would often seek out a tavern to drink heavily or find a woman of the night to spend a wild night with. This was their life; only adventurers could truly understand this sentiment.
The mage named Allen didn't react much; mages were often a peculiar bunch, even lost in the world of magic, with their lives outside of magic seeming rather monotonous.
"What do you think we should do next? We've already collected two magical cores; should we call it a day and head back?" After the laughter, Frosa turned to Carter and asked.
At this point, everyone fell silent; it was time to discuss serious matters. A single misstep could bury them here, and jokes were out of place. After a moment of silence, Carter spoke: "Do you all remember the two high-level magical beasts we encountered when we first entered? Last time, I misjudged the situation and didn't realize they were a pair. Although we were beaten badly and suffered significant losses, we also heavily injured that powerful male beast. I've never seen those two magical beasts in my years of adventuring; they're likely a mutated species. What do you think—would it be worth hunting them? After that, we can head back."
Fars's nerves tightened at these words.