Once Sigil leaves the cellar, I'm alone in the makeshift workshop with my less sentient minions. Given how little they contribute to intellectual matters, I might as well be completely alone. I’ve done all I can with [Soul Healing] for now, and the rest of my skills are unlikely to be as time-consuming as a deep meditation session. [Memory Therapy] is a bit of a wild card depending on how my memories handle perception of time. Thankfully I feel like [Curse of Pain] won’t be so internally perceptive, so I’m hoping it operates in real-time.

Since [Memory Therapy] is a fully active skill, using it should be much easier. It also won’t apply any bonuses when I don’t activate it.

Memory Therapy - Healing Skill - Active

User experiences a minor correction when meditating.

User may spend mana while meditating to repair damaged memories.

User may spend large amounts of mana to reconcile opposed memories and perceptions.

The focus on meditation seems to suggest that it will be separate from the meditation I experienced when using [Soul Healing] and [Blessing of Mana]. It will require deliberate effort of its own. I suppose it’s a good thing I’m getting so much practice meditating. I’ll have to consider taking a skill for it some time in the future.

With that in mind, I retake a seat in the cellar and focus my intention inwards once again. This time focusing on the far more amorphous memories that linger around the edges of my mind. Things I can’t recall or don’t recall fully. As the skill takes hold a thin trickle of my mana pours out and vanishes from my core. It doesn’t outpace my regeneration, so I could do this indefinitely, but there’s no sign of where the mana is being sent. Curious.

With the skill active, I try several different methods of probing into my memories, into Andras Gregori’s memories specifically, all with little success. The only progress I can manage is a few brief glimpses and momentary surges of feeling, nothing concrete that I can gain insight from, but an overwhelming sense of loss, sadness, and righteous anger. So far it fits with my fragmented understanding of my past life, so it’s not a surprise. I hope further levels will speed up progress, but for now I will have to consistently practice with the skill.

After that relatively disappointing showing, I have no other choices left but to face the skill that holds the most ominous potential. [Curse of Pain]. It could either be a great boon that allows me to curse others, or I may be the one cursed. Based on the behavior of the goddess that gave it to me, I suspect it may be both.

The best place I can think to start is by reading the skill description.

“Query. Show skill details for [Curse of Pain]”

Nothing. The system doesn’t produce a skill window, it doesn’t even respond to me at all. I have no hints what so ever for the use of the skill. Though I do have a few ideas on how to test it.

I will have to be careful with my experimenbts since I’m flying blind. I’ll also save those tests for last since I have one last round of testing I’d like to do first. That will come in the morning though.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

For now, I make my way back up out of the cellar to join Mom and Dad for dinner. For the first time since my system unlock Leigh has chosen to join us as well, though she seems distant and aloof.

“Hey Leigh” I mumble, forcing a smile as I take a seat across from her. She nods in my direction but says nothing, clearly still upset about my decision to leave. Her attitude feels more resolute though, as if she’s finally come to terms with the reality and won’t needlessly beg me to stay. That’s good, it’s better for everyone that way.

Mom sighs in my direction with a pointed look, and I wonder just how much she and Leigh have talked about. It doesn’t matter. Neither of them can stop me from leaving at this point. So the four of us share a silent and awkward family dinner around the table.

The follow morning I wake up with the dawn, crawling out of bed and getting dressed with an anxious energy buzzing through my body. Today I’m testing spells.

In my previous round, the system backless from being an unrecognized user was dramatic, and the spells themselves were borderline useless. Now that I have system access fully I want to, need to, test the bounds of my capabilities.

I make my way out of the house into the field on the edge of the village where Leigh and I previously practiced her magic. I don’t have her target effigy to practice on, but a tree is as good as anything.

I want to start small, but I’ve already seen Leigh cast several Tier 1 spells with no issue. [Spark], [Wind], and I myself have proven both [Life Tap] and [Clean] to be functioning as I expect them to. So, I may as well start with Tier 2 spells.

This tier I’ve already dabbled in as well, but it’s more likely that I run into a spell that is yet to exist than with the bare basics. Skipping over my favored undead creation spells, and [Cirune’s Summoning], I want the first choice to be a good one.

[Acid Shot] is a fairly niche spell for most wizards in the future, and I don’t recall the date of its creation, maybe that will work. Carefully, and steering with a significant amount of instinct, I manually build the spellform for [Acid Shot] as I remember it. Halfway through the familiar pain and buzz of Andras’ soul fragments intervening lets me know that my work is being corrected.

I don’t need a drawn circle for this spell, and as it nears completion [Chant Omission] steps in to further boost my efficiency. The skill operating off my memory of the chant rather than actively reciting it.

The spell finishes, and I unleash the projectile forming between my fingers straight ahead. A faint whistling wind follows it as it leaps towards the distant tree trunk. It hangs suspended in the air for what feels like an eternity, and once it strikes true I am met once again with the familiar sound of a system message. Ding!

ERROR.

Unrecognized program detected.

Rerouting…

Rerouting…

Reroute Successful.

[Ȧ̶͇̬ċ̷̩͋ḯ̸̱̌d̸͙̃̚ ̵̡͆S̸̨̍̈́ḩ̷͎͐̽ő̴̬͆ẗ̸͓͚] has been replaced with [Acid Bolt].

Parameters adjusted properly.

Congratulations!

[Chant Omission] has leveled up to 6.

[Chant Omission] has leveled up to 7.

A quick glance over the spell, now written with system guidance, and the parameters are mostly the same. A few small changes to the mana forms are unlikely to effect much beyond how the spell itself is processed.

The skill level ups are most welcome as well. This will do nicely.