"[Permafrost]..."
Ronan softly spoke the name of the sigil.
He examined the sigil in his hand. From his experience as a runesmith, he noticed that the structure of the [Permafrost] sigil wasn't particularly complex, even simpler than the [Bloodthirst] sigil he acquired from Laura.
Ronan had visited every rune shop in Seven-Ring City, hoping to purchase a soul sigil inheritance.
However, the sigils available were all quite ordinary, generic ones that didn't satisfy Ronan's needs.
First-level spell shops also sold spells, but the truly powerful core spells of any system could only be obtained through faction inheritance.
The [Permafrost] sigil, judging by its structure and complexity, was just slightly better than the generic ones in shops, yet inferior to Laura's [Bloodthirst].
Ronan thought that if soul sigils were categorized as common, rare, and excellent, [Permafrost] would fall into the rare category, while [Bloodthirst] would qualify as excellent.
The specific effects of the [Permafrost] sigil were unknown to Ronan, and without guidance, he would only discover them upon successful refinement.
"A first-level ice spell inheritance, a relatively simple sigil with low refinement requirements, yet decent quality—ideal for newly advanced first-level wizards."
"Plus an obvious first-level ice artifact."
Ronan picked up the necklace from the box, adorned with ice-blue gems and a deep blue ring emitting faint ice energy waves, musing, "This looks like a starter kit for a first-level ice wizard."
Considering that Linus, during his apprenticeship, specialized in ice spells, it seemed logical that this was the inheritance left by Linus's deceased teacher.
"But why would a wandering wizard, an advanced apprentice, leave a formal wizard-level legacy for his disciple?"
Ronan's eyes showed curiosity as he picked up the final item in the box, the letter.
The letter was made of an unknown material, cool and smooth, feeling like a thin sheet of ice.
Opening it, a faint chill enveloped him, transporting Ronan to an ancient, snowy world—
**[Dear Soraya,
By the time you read this letter, I should be dead.
Do not grieve for me; my soul will follow the aurora, eternally residing in the northern glaciers.
Please treat the bearer of this letter as your own. Hallowen is a good boy, not exceptionally gifted, but he has a heart as pure and kind as ice crystals.
I left him [Permafrost]; it may be the most suitable sigil for him.
No one knows its hidden secrets; those who underestimate it are unaware that the Lanst family legend began with it.
The Frost Leader's people have hearts colder than the northern winds.
They've completely forgotten the glory and honor the Iceflame Iris once brought them. Like an old snow wolf with dulled claws and fangs, they drove us away. We were forced to leave our home, family members perishing one by one in the snow and danger.
No one can feel my anger and sorrow!
So I took the "Ice Ring"!
They will never have it, nor know its secrets!
Soraya... Soraya. My tears freeze into crystals on this paper. I see Arliss smiling and waving at me, along with our three children.
I hope you witness the Lanst family's glory once more for me!]**
Ronan gently placed the letter down, his face reflecting a strange light.
"Iceflame Iris... Lanst family... Frost Leader, and the Ice Ring!"
This letter was written by someone on their deathbed, addressed to a person named "Soraya."
It bore no signature.
The information it conveyed was vast and complex. Ronan pieced together a narrative from the chaotic words—a family in decline, expelled by the very force they helped create, with the last family member taking something of great importance.
It seemed a tale of sorrow and resentment, yet Ronan couldn't fully empathize.
He picked up the artifact necklace, finding an inscription on the chain filled with ice-blue gems—**[To my beloved, Arliss!]**
The deep blue ice ring beneath the necklace was a later addition. Its aura was ancient and obscure, and Ronan felt a soul-piercing cold when probing it, barely detecting an intricate rune within.
"Arliss's ice ring necklace."
Ronan's gaze shifted to the [Permafrost] soul sigil. From the letter, it seemed this sigil wasn't as simple as it appeared.
"So this was meant for Linus's teacher, Hallowen, the letter's bearer."
"For some reason, Hallowen never delivered the letter. Before dying, he left the unopened legacy to Linus, and now it's in my hands."
Ronan's eyes flickered as he hesitated and deliberated.
A complete first-level inheritance lay before him.
Though ice spells hadn't been his initial choice, they were preferable to plant spells.
During his apprenticeship, Ronan had learned a basic [Ice Ball] spell, using it often in daily life, with proficiency nearing mastery.
He didn't feel a strong affinity for ice spells, but he didn't dislike them.
Considering the potential hidden secrets and opportunities in this inheritance, if he couldn't obtain the desired metal spell inheritance, Ronan would lean towards switching to ice spells over plant spells.
"Ice spells are a mainstream choice for wizards, with a clearer path than plant spells."
Ronan thought, deciding not to rush into a decision, placing everything back in the box.
Until his hopes for the Ring's metal spell inheritance were completely dashed, he preferred to wait.
Just as Ronan stored the box away and pondered where to learn about "Frost Leader" and "Iceflame Iris," a knock sounded at the door.
"Master Ronan, are you there?"
Alida's voice came from the door, tinged with unusual tension.
Ronan frowned slightly, attempting to probe with his mental energy, only to have it forcefully repelled by a presence at least ten times stronger.
A powerful wizard stood at his door!
Ronan's eyes flashed with surprise, his mind racing with guesses and possibilities, but he quickly calmed, opening the door.
"What is it, Alida?"
Alida stood timidly in the doorway, like a shy lamb, pointing to the person beside her, speaking softly, "This Ring master is here to see you."
The Ring.
Ronan's gaze flickered as he looked at the unexpected visitor.
The man was of average build.
With short black hair and a plain appearance, his left cheek bore intricate silver patterns, while the right cheek displayed a large, rough silver scar.
He wore a silver robe with the Ring's emblem, emitting waves of mental energy and a mystical soul aura that left Ronan slightly breathless.
He smiled at Ronan, but his metal-hard features conveyed only coldness, precision, and a condescending gaze.
"Late first-level... or second-level wizard?!"
Ronan quickly assessed, maintaining a respectful and courteous demeanor.
He bowed to the silver-robed man, speaking, "What brings you to visit, Master?"
"No need to worry. It's just a routine inquiry and inspection."
The silver-robed man's voice was like clashing metal, uncomfortable to hear.
He entered Ronan's room naturally, like an owner surveying his domain, then looked at Ronan, "After all, you haven't been in the Ring long, have you, Ronan Damien?"
Ronan signaled Alida with a glance, and she quickly scurried away.
Closing the door, he entered, nodding, "Yes."
The silver-robed man sat comfortably on Ronan's usual sofa, speaking softly, "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Bazel."
"Master Bazel."
Ronan approached the table, picking up the teapot, "Tea? This inn's blueberry and mint leaf tea is quite good."
Bazel smiled, not answering, watching Ronan, "You seem young, like you've just advanced."
"Mind telling me about your time before coming to the Ring?"
Ronan's eyes flickered, setting down the teapot, "I'm from Hoddam. Have you heard of it, Master Bazel?"
"Hoddam..."
Bazel showed mild surprise, "The small academy destroyed by the Crimson Tower?"
"I've heard of it."
"A poor place's second-level wizard stumbled upon a Nepha's Key, thinking fortune had arrived, unaware that unmatched treasures bring ruin."
Bazel spoke with a lofty, pitying tone.
Ronan hadn't expected Bazel to know about Hoddam Academy and its current state. Despite Bazel's condescension, Ronan couldn't help but ask, "Can you tell me more, Master Bazel?"
Bazel glanced at him, speaking calmly, "Not much to say. Hoddam's wizarding land was obliterated by the Crimson force, its founder dead, Nepha's Key seized by the Crimson Tower."
"Also affected was a small dark wizard enclave, the Forest of Whispered Death. Oh, and..."
Bazel recalled, adding, "I heard a curious tale about the Forest of Whispered Death. A first-level wizard there reportedly killed two second-level Crimson Tower wizards in battle."
"A first-level wizard defeating two second-levels?!"
Ronan was shocked; such a feat was extraordinary.
Somehow, Anglair's image came to mind, a strong premonition that if anyone in Whispered Death could achieve such a deed, it would be Anglair.
"What happened to them?"
Ronan pressed.
"You mean the talented first-level wizard from Whispered Death?"
Bazel replied indifferently, "Who knows? Maybe they're dead, captured by the Crimson Tower, or perhaps they never existed. Rumors, after all, are often false."
Ronan pondered silently, while Bazel seemed ready to end their brief conversation.
"That's all for the routine inquiry."
Bazel rose, nodding slightly to Ronan, "It was a pleasure chatting. Apologies for the intrusion."
"Master Bazel!"
Ronan's sudden call halted Bazel at the door.
Bazel turned without expression, his silver markings accentuating his aloofness and indifference.
"Is there anything else, Ronan?"
Ronan seemed to gather something within his chest.
He looked into Bazel's eyes, speaking low, "There's something I'd like to discuss with you, Master Bazel."
"Oh?"
Five minutes later, under the courteous farewell of the Blueberry Inn's proprietors, Bazel departed.
A small, elegant spell airship awaited outside, where the short man, Gu Wei, stood. As Bazel emerged, Gu Wei approached eagerly.
"Well, Master?"
Bazel shook his head coldly.
"Based on our timing, this was the most likely."
"But it's the opposite."
"He's just a newly advanced, sigil-less refugee."
"Ah..."
Gu Wei sighed in disappointment, muttering, "From our list, two have left Seven-Ring City, the rest are eliminated. If this one isn't it..."
"Maybe it's one of the two not in the city, or perhaps our target isn't on our list."
Bazel showed no disappointment, squinting slightly, advising Gu Wei, "Keep watch. Those two might return."
"Understood."
Gu Wei nodded as Bazel boarded the airship.
"Where to next, Master Bazel?"
"To meet the mid-first-level wizard from the far west with a notable soul sigil."
"Yes."
The spell airship's runes glowed, a nimble blue-silver fish darting skyward, vanishing swiftly.
At a window on Blueberry Inn's second floor, Ronan watched the airship depart.
Once it disappeared, his gaze fell on the ice-blue rune stone tightly clenched in his hand.
"Looks like I'll have to choose [Permafrost] and switch to ice spells."
In the preceding five minutes, despite Ronan's sincere effort to persuade Bazel to vouch for him, he was coldly refused.
Bazel hadn't even deigned to express refusal.
He simply smiled silently, watching Ronan speak, then turned and left.
No words left behind.