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CH491

Huh, combining scrying with space magic is pretty obvious so I’m not sure if that really belongs in here, but I can’t deny that the level of skill it was done with was masterful. I don’t really see any way I could apply it to my enchanting, but I’ll at least keep it in mind.

With that book done, the cover turned red to mark his comprehension of the memories it contained, Ben put it back and looked at the progress he’d made.

With fifteen red covers now, he was nearly halfway through what the archive had to offer, far enough that he couldn’t help but consider if it was time to take a break and leave the rest for another day. Before he’d gone in, Thera had said to avoid spending too many hundreds of hours in there, but the combination of his awakened focus and an interesting problem made it all too easy. His overcrowded head was being stimulated in a way he could rarely achieve otherwise as he chipped away at each book until he knew what secrets they contained, but he couldn’t deny that he’d already done a lot and combined with the time dilation effects he was under, he missed Thera and Myriad, along with his other friends.

It was a strange feeling to have when he knew that none of them would even have perceived him as gone. As far as they would have been concerned, he was just laying in bed. Thera was even beside him, not that he could tell in that state.

But if I stay too long I might end up being needy by the time I’m out.

…Just one more. What could it hurt?

Even if he wanted to finish up so he could go talk to Myriad in his god’s realm to shake off some of the feelings being in there had left him, he couldn't deny his curiosity either. His hopes were raised enough that something might happen once he finished everything that he wanted to make all of the progress he could, even if he couldn’t begin to guess just what it might be. It was the mystery of it that captured his imagination and made him push just a little bit further to see what secrets it held, and that same motivation that led him to reach out for the next book, opening it to see the life it contained.

All at once, Ben was somewhere else, an observer in a body he couldn’t control, as was the case for all of the other books. The difference from the rest of them was the setting he found himself in.

For the others, he’d found himself in battlefields, training grounds, labs and other similar locations. All places one might expect mages to be honing their crafts. This time though it was an area unlike any in the past, yet a place that felt more familiar to him than any of those others. The person he was witnessing the memories of was sitting in a workshop, something resembling a forge by his side and holding a simple metal pan.

All at once, Ben was overcome with the urge to take in everything he was seeing more than he cared about whatever magic was about to be cast. This was his first time seeing something that matched his interests so specifically, and for a culture that not only no longer existed, but one that had left no impact on the world. He couldn’t begin to guess what would be made there but desperately wanted to know, hoping against hope that the man focusing on the pan would get just a little distracted and look around.

Instead though, his eyes remained tied to his work, showing a focus Ben could at least approve of, even if it was keeping him from the mysteries that the area contained as the person began enchanting, making and breaking rings over and over, trying to do something.

It caught his interest at least. From what he judged through the enchanter’s mana sense, they weren’t quite as good at their craft as he was, though they were surprisingly close, meaning on a world that predated the system, they had to be the highest level of master available in that era. By all accounts, he was watching a genius enchanter at work, which made it all the more unfortunate that he couldn’t make himself impressed.

The quality of the skill was fine and all, the issue was the form the enchantments took. It used the same ring system that could be found on Galwax’s trial. It was novel and had its strengths, Ben would never deny it, but he’d already made it his own. By combining it with both the weave and blending systems, he’d elevated it above what had previously existed, making the show he was getting interesting in a purely academic sense as he watched a person practice a method that as far as he was concerned was outdated.

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Although, it does feel like he’s doing something a little strange with his mana. Maybe there’s a subtlety I’m missing here?

It did him no harm to focus on it while he was stuck in the memory at least, trying to understand what was happening. It felt like the person was almost wiggling their mana, for what purpose he couldn’t say, made all the worse for the fact that he was thinking in a new language. If Ben wanted to know, he’d need to decode it first.

Which I’ll have to do eventually anyway and at least it probably won’t be too bad considering the practice I’ve already gotten, but- Wait, what the hell was that?

He felt the enchanter’s satisfaction as he slumped over, having succeeded in their goal. It wasn’t perfectly clear, their mana sense worse than Ben’s own, but he was just able to make out the change that had come with whatever had just occurred. An even thinner ring of mana, gently bound to each of the normal ring enchantments, altering their base form.

It was something he’d only seen once before but couldn’t help but be deeply familiar with. It was the fundamental enchanting structure that made up the dead god’s trial.

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! How did he do that?”

At the time, Ben had thought that was something that could only be achieved by a god. He thought that even more delicate strands of mana had been laid down on each individual ring, something that even with his high level of skill he still couldn’t replicate, but he’d been wrong. The enchanter who’d just figured out how to mimic their god’s work was not better than him, meaning he would be able to do it too. He just needed to see how.

All at once any thought of the rest of the workshop was forgotten, the whole of his focus was devoted to seeing how it had been done and he moved to the next memory, then the next and so on, finding a few less than many of the other books but not so little that he couldn’t learn anything, even if it wasn’t enough.

Now that he’d seen it he couldn’t leave yet. Just because it was in a new language only meant that he needed to grow his sample size, same way as he had for the others, and with that goal so clear in his thoughts he turned to the rest of the books, a hungry look in his eyes as he aimed to devour as many as he would need to to get what he wanted.

From there, all bets were off as thousands of thoughts were all perfectly aligned with that goal, finding the other examples that matched the language of the enchanter and devouring them, not caring about what discoveries they made beyond the context they gave for what he was trying to learn as he found a brand new appreciation for just what the archive was. As a store of knowledge, it was interesting enough, but as one that had just taught him something new and exciting, its value rose to tremendous heights beyond just that of a mythic item.

With the language rules coming together in his head and likely translations being fitted into a comprehensive whole, he was going faster with it than any of the prior ones, even considering the newfound experience he had with the topic, only stopping when he was sure he had what he needed, a curious and surprised smile stretching across his face as he was left unsure if the translation he had could have possibly been correct.

“Gotta check. God, I hope this is right.”

He opened back up the first page, listening carefully to every word before going through the rest, seeing the book turn red in his hands as he broke into a deep laugh, feeling a level of joy he hadn’t expected to get.

He’d thought the enchanter had been mimicking what he’d seen Galax produce, but that was wrong. It seemed the person whose memories had been stored had been in the middle of a regular day of practice when some instability in their mana control had touched their work in a way that got them curious, leading to the incredible discovery as they let their instincts take over to see where it would lead, all of which meant one very important thing.

What he’d seen in the trial had never been the work of the god. Not truly. Sure, Galwax was likely the one who laid that magic down, but it was a discovery made by the work of one of their mortals, good enough that not even the divine could deny it.

He wanted to rush out immediately to see if he could replicate the results now that he had the thoughts behind the act but held off long enough to properly put the book back and offer a prayer for the long-dead enchanter. Even if they hadn’t been quite at his standard on a technical level, they were a master of their craft who had made an incredible discovery and as far as he was concerned was due every bit of respect for it.