A day had passed since he cast his first spell, and now Constantine knelt beside the wolf, their eyes locked in a silent exchange. The pup had grown swiftly, now standing as tall as his knees.
“You need a name,” he murmured, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Naming the creature hadn’t crossed his mind until now. He felt like a failure as its master, treating it more as an observation subject than a living being. “I owe you one. The way you use your powers has inspired me.”
The wolf tilted its head, tongue lolling out. Constantine shook his head, feeling foolish for talking to the animal as if it were human. ‘I must be going insane from all this,’ he thought. His days were spent meditating in his shack, wandering through the forest, and occasionally shopping for supplies. Mostly, he remained alone.
A flicker of desire glinted in his eyes. ‘Followers. I need followers. I could get followers by utilizing their hunger for power.’ He longed for someone to share his discoveries with, someone to discuss and consult; someone like himself. ‘There will always be people hungry and ready to sacrifice anything for power,’ he mused, recalling the recent fighting between gangs, likely over the altered cultivation manual.
“One can’t get far alone. Am I right?” he said to the baffled-looking wolf, its crimson eyes flashing. Wolves were pack animals. Alone, they couldn’t dream of threatening a bear, but together, they were apex predators who even a bear wouldn’t provoke.
‘My need for resources is growing. My coin will run out sooner or later.’ He needed specialized tools and parts. ‘Constructing a voltmeter would require someone to make individual parts and assemble them. I would also need a reference current and voltage to calibrate it. Accuracy would raise the cost considerably.’
Even the cultivators he loathed as decrepit old fools understood this and formed their sects. ‘I could recruit people to work for me, gathering resources in exchange for me teaching them. They would be my outer circle.’
He kept planning, liking the idea of followers more and more, ‘I could also find like-minded individuals to form my inner circle. They would help me explore magic through experiments—’ He sighed. No matter how much he liked the idea, he lacked the most important thing: power. If he recruited now, he wouldn’t be much stronger than his disciples. It would worsen his situation, forcing him to fear betrayal at every turn.
‘Would they be grateful and loyal to me? Some, maybe, but not all.’ To control his organization, he would have to grow much stronger than his recruits. Strong enough to crush any opposition and prevent betrayals. At least for the outer, resource-gathering circle. He doubted the scholarly inner circle would behave so primitively.
‘I’ll think of it again after I form my core.’ Dismissing that train of thought, he stood up. Moving away from the wolf, he commanded, “Implant, replay the memory of the wolf using its power.”
His vision shifted. He was once again kneeling beside his wolf. The shadows seemed to come to life. He could sense mana radiating from the patterns on the wolf’s back flowing through his fingers. He watched in silence, noting which runes activated and which did not. After several replays, he nodded. ‘As I thought, not all patterns on its back activate when it summons its shadows.’
Considering how complex the runic structure of shadow wolves was and how versatile their powers were, he suspected they had multiple separate spells. ‘The simplest one must be to summon shadows.’ He watched the magic that activated. It started with the same rune as the thunder rabbit’s, connected into an entirely new rune.
Then he glanced at the much larger portion of the pattern. Not even a single trace of mana passed through it. ‘This inactive one must be the one that allows her to merge and blend with those summoned shadows.’ He had never seen it activated, reinforcing his notion even further. He couldn’t possibly see if the wolf was hidden when they were active.
Although the observation on its own wasn’t that important, it would help him decipher how the runes work.
The next day:
Leaves rustled in the wind, the branches of the towering ancient oaks gently swaying. Constantine stood amidst them, motionless, his eyes absentmindedly staring into emptiness.
His vision was split into three parts, each scene replaying simultaneously. In one, the horn activated, lightning crackling around it. In the second, patterns on the wolf’s back flashed, shadows emerging from the beast’s form. In the last, bright orange fur exploded with surging flames. He could almost feel the heat and the electric charge prickling his skin.
‘All three start with the same identical rune,’ he observed, his brow furrowing in concentration as he scrutinized the patterns, hoping to decipher the purpose and meaning of individual runes. ‘The rune behind it differs between the three, but they are still quite similar.’
The three runic constructs were simple, each consisting of two runes, except for the inactive part of the wolf’s. But he pushed that aside for now. He needed to start with the basics, a foundational understanding before diving deeper.
‘Each of the three constructs summons a natural phenomenon; lightning, fire, and shadows, respectively. The second runes are similar, albeit different.’ Narrowing his eyes, he allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. For something so seemingly simple, he would feel ashamed for not cracking it. ‘This leaves two possible meanings for the runes.’
He tightened his eyes further, the intensity of his focus almost palpable. ‘In the first scenario, the first rune means start, and the second means summon a specific element.’ He nodded. The concept of elements, though scientifically disproven in this form, fit nicely with what he was trying to describe. ‘In the second scenario, the first rune means summon, and the second represents different elements.’
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He opened his eyes wider, a sudden realization hitting him like a tidal wave. ‘There is also a third, more complex scenario. Each rune could potentially be a construct of many sub-runes. Each angle, arc, line, and curve could have its own meaning.’
He shook his head, dismissing the thought for now. He couldn’t afford to get lost in such intricate details yet. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the replaying scenes. Raising his arm and grasping a core from his pocket with the other, he cleared his mind, his pulse quickening with anticipation.
‘Test of rune combination,’ he noted, guiding his gaseous mana into his hand, etching runes by infusing mana into the uppermost layer of his skin.
The first rune, the rune of summon or start, formed. The second rune, the lightning-element one, condensed. Muttering, “Too big, the third one won’t fit,” he scratched them out, drawing them again, his frustration mounting. Squinting, he focused more. The smaller the runes, the harder they were to etch, and the more detailed the mana manipulation they required. At last, the third, fire-element rune from the fiery feline, pulsed to life.
Giving them one last glance, he nodded, the core mellowing as he absorbed a portion of it. His eyes shot wide open, shining with the overflowing current of mana. He guided it to the first rune, then split the current into two, fueling both elemental runes at once.
The runes shone brightly, burning heat and a tingling, electrifying sensation quickly building up. With a flash of light, lightning burst out, followed by a torrent of flames. The lightning and fire intertwined, scorching the ground around him.
Grinning from ear to ear, he cut off the current, his heart racing with triumph. The meaning of the three runes was confirmed. Although he still couldn’t tell which scenario it was, he was sure more examples of monster parts would clarify it.
‘Is there any limit to combinations?’ he wondered, his eyes burning with a desire to test it. His excitement was almost unbearable, his heart pounding, his breath ragged. He melted more of the core, directing it into the first start or summon rune, then connected it to a lightning rune. Instead of connecting the fire rune to the start rune, he connected it to the lightning rune.
Pain, akin to submerging his hand into boiling water, made him scream. The three runes burst, the residual power shooting like burning needles through his entire arm. Punching the ground in agony, his eyes teary, he kept grinning. Despite the searing pain, he had made another discovery—a worthy price to pay in his mind.
Panting for a few seconds, sitting on the scorched earth, his mind cleared, the pain dulling and retreating. With a clearer mind, he analyzed the result. ‘Not all runes can be connected. There is some rule to it.’ He laughed, feeling like perhaps the rule was simply common sense.
‘What would my creation even mean? Summon lightning fire? Sounds cool, but edges too close to gibberish. On the contrary, the first had a plausible meaning: summon lightning and fire.’
His eyes widened in another sudden realization. ‘Did I just confirm the scenario where the first rune means summon? Otherwise, start, summon lightning, and summon fire would be meaningful.’ He shook his head, his excitement tempered by the knowledge that he couldn’t confirm his conjecture yet. There might be an entirely different reason. He would need to try many more combinations to either confirm or disprove it.
‘Although the summon rune scenario feels more natural. Start runes feel too rigid and artificial.’
Two days later:
Leaves rustled above Constantine as he sat calmly under a tree. The slight draft played with his hair and clothes. His eyes were closed shut, his mouth agape as he inhaled the fresh air. The warmth burned brightly within his veins, forming a protective bubble against the chilly morning air.
‘It is getting closer and colder. Soon, the summer will end.’ He frowned. Although in his previous life, he always seemed to like winters more than summers, he was always worse at enduring higher temperatures compared to lower ones. But in this life, experiencing the bone-marrow freezing winters, out begging on the streets, he came to dread them, unsure if the next one would be his last one.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he redirected his attention. The winters were no longer a problem for him. He was no longer the scrawny, weak orphan. The heat streaming within him gave him all the confidence he needed.
‘Implant, evaluate my mana values.’
<<------------>>
Current amount: 0.25
Maximal capacity: 0.25
Energy concentration: 0.93
<<------------>>
‘My mana reserves are full.’ He nodded, feeling like he was ready for the next step. Flexing mana within him, letting it flow through each of his purified organs he gathered his resolve. ‘My body is pure enough. The core is the highest priority right now. And thanks to the usage of cores, my mana capacity doubled.’
Constantine sighed and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling the warmth in his lungs expand like a fire igniting within him. Gasping at the sensation he relaxed. He guided this torrent of energy, feeling it surge and pulse with every heartbeat.
With a focused mind, he directed it all to the single focal point behind his stomach. His breath quickened as he envisioned the energy spiraling inward, coiling like a serpent ready to strike. The warmth intensified, transforming into searing heat, a blaze he had to tame.
His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white, as he pressed with all his will, compressing the energy as much as he could, the bucket's worth of energy turning into half a bucket. The heat peaked to new heights, burning with an intensity that made his entire body tremble. Sweat poured down his skin, glistening on his face, his muscles tense with effort.
He pressed further, the energy pushing against his will, refusing to compress any further, the shrinkage slowing down. His vision blurred, and his skin turned pallid as if the very life was being drained from him. He gasped, eyes snapping open, the heat gradually dispersing. It was a disappointment, yet not unexpected. He lacked enough force, control, and base energy to condense the core in a single go.
Straightening his back, he steeled his resolve. He visualized a whirlpool within his abdomen, a vortex of power drawing in every ounce of energy. The warmth obeyed, spiraling into a small, concentrated melon-sized mass. He pressed slightly with his will, the heat within his stomach rising to a manageable level. He stopped increasing the pressure, keeping the energy slowly and steadily circling, like a planet in orbit.
'Experimental approach number two, slow, long-term focusing of mana on a single point. Hopefully, it will cause it to gradually grow denser.' There was nothing to guide his actions, no manual to follow. He was on his own to find a way to form a core, and the only path forward was slow and grueling.
The boiling heat circling in his solar plexus throbbed, and he relaxed.