"Hahaha! I got it!" Glenn yelled, his eyes bloodshot as he pumped his fist victoriously at a target dummy with a small hole pierced through its head.

He hurried back to the terminal, his pen flying on the paper as he wrote with excitement the file on his Magic Bullet.

* Spell: Enhanced Magic Bullet, provided by Glenn

* Description: An invisible thumb-sized projectile that emits a sound when fired.

* Usage: An invisible and potent alternative to Magic Arrow, with increased speed and perforation capabilities

* Formula: Proiectum + Velox + Destructum

* Mana Usage: Thrice the Mana for a Magic Arrow / Beginner Initiate friendly

It wasn’t precisely the same versatile Mana Bullet that he could conjure with the Draconic School, but it was the closest he could get to it. As a bonus, it was more powerful than the original! Of course, it came with the annoying restriction of having to shout out the words for the Formula, but in exchange, he gained more power, more speed, and, well, a better spell in concept.

After recording the results, the ink soaked into the paper, and the book suddenly closed, seemingly processing the information. It reopened seconds later, displaying the page for Enhanced Magic Bullet. The Magi Brotherhood had accepted his formula like it did before for his Weird-Ass Ominous Magic Hand.

He quickly returned to the book's summary, a little disappointed when he saw that he still only had access to the Spell Creation section.

Glenn flipped back more out of habit than anything, smiling in surprise when he found new spells to be studied. Strangely, only the names, descriptions, and usage were available. The formulas and their Mana usage remained hidden. It also seemed like it was restricted to Beginner Initiate level spells, which ultimately didn't matter, as it was the only thing Glenn could use for now, excluding his Implosion. What rank was his Implosion anyway?

“How the hell am I supposed to unlock these…ah” The second he asked that question, numbers appeared next to each spell, fluctuating between ten and fifty, but never more than that.

"That should be the price, I suppose... How many credits do I have, then?"

A number appeared in the upper right corner of the terminal/book, showing fifty credits. Above that was his name, Glenn, as well as a picture of his face. There also was what Circle he was at currently, showing the 2nd Circle. Finally, there seemed to be a level of contribution. Glenn was at the 2nd level, and halfway through the 3rd.

"There certainly are a lot of mechanics to this thing. It's pretty fun to research spells!" He blurted out in excitement.

He glanced through the library, wondering if he should unlock and learn one of them when a weak, raspy voice sounded in his mind.

'Glenn... Get me out of here, or I'm going to...'

'Diamanes? What's wrong?!'

"Damn it all!"

A whirlwind suddenly appeared in Glenn's left hand, as the fabric of reality itself seemed to be absorbed by Diamanes. Glenn felt a sudden surge of information arriving in his mind, messy pieces of spells and enchantments, formulas and their runes, mixing in a fever-inducing dance.

When he came back to his senses, he was lying on his back, his vision blurry. Standing up carefully, he saw the space in the Savant room shift dangerously, inspiring awe and fear. It seemed like a Rift was about to declare itself at any moment, or that something was about to explode.

Without thinking twice about it, Glenn summoned his Recommendation Plate, or should he call it his Key to the HQ, and infused Mana into it. Space twisted and warped, and the familiar feeling of his body being pulled and pushed in every direction accompanied him as he teleported out of the Magi Brotherhood. He landed back in the shabby hut, a magic, runic circle shining under his feet. He stumbled forward, stopping himself from vomiting once again, and sat against the cold stone wall.

The dim light coming from the dirty window informed him that dusk had yet to fall. He breathed out, an uneasy feeling in his gut. Looking at his left hand, he discovered in astonishment that it was shining with a purple light under the leather glove and bandages.

"Diamanes, what the hell is going on?!?" He blurted out.

"BUUURPPP!"

"...Are you serious?"

"I didn't have a choice, alright?" Diamanes tried to defend himself, smacking his lips.

Glenn took off his glove, staring at the mouth in his left hand with a deadpan expression. A black tongue came out of the mouth, moistening its lips.

"Listen, how could I explain that...You see a burger?"

Glenn nodded hesitantly, wondering where the hell this guy was going with that.

"Well, imagine there is one in front of you, looking tasty, so much you just want to take a bite."

Even though he doubted he would find a burger in this world, Glenn could imagine. Huh, this was an idea. Cooking burgers in another world.

"If you see a mountain of burgers, it might look daunting, but you'd still want to take a bite from them, since they look so tasty, right?"

Glenn shrugged. "So? You're saying what just happened were you taking a bite out of the spell mountain that is the Savant Room?"

Diamanes made a strange mouth shape before answering, "Well, no. It was more like I was drowning in that mountain of burgers, and my only choice was to eat my way out."

Glenn let out a short laugh, his eyes fixed on his left hand. "What kind of explanation is that?" Just as he was about to mock Diamanes, a painful headache put a stop to him. A deafening sound hissed in his ears, and he could listen to some strange whispers beyond the veil of pain. Listening to them only made the pain worse, so he tried to shut them up by blocking his ears. After a minute of pain and groaning, the sound calmed down, disappearing in the distance. Glenn pushed himself up from the ground he had crumbled on, holding himself against the wall while rubbing his temples.

"What–"

Glenn was cut off by a heavy cough and bent over to try and expunge the thing blocking his throat. He witnessed in silent fright as a red clump of blood came out of his mouth, landing on the floor, before wriggling as if it was alive. Reflexively, he stomped on the clump until he was sure it wouldn't move.

"I... I think there might be something wrong with me, cough..." noticed Glenn, wiping his mouth, before staring at the blood on his hand.

“I’ll say this just in case, but it’s not my fault,” Diamanes warned with a grim-sounding voice. Glenn wore his glove back, gritting his teeth as he left the shabby hut and discovered that the sun was setting down. He groaned and headed back in the Cleaner’s Workshop direction. He stumbled through the streets, his head still ringing with that annoying pain when he remembered that he had an appointment with Carys at the Frosty Beer.

“Shit…” Glenn took a break, out of breath, and leaned on his knees, his stomach bloated. He shook the feeling off and changed direction, intending to honor his meeting with Carys. He stumbled for a while before coming to his senses, and finally found the direction to the inn and headed there.

When he finally arrived in front of the Frosty Beer, a not-so-glamorous establishment, he felt a strange sense of déjà-vu. It was a bit of a letdown compared to the Auberge back when it was still standing, but at least there won’t be a team of druggies in command. Hopefully. He pushed the two saloon doors open, the feeling of déjà-vu reinforced suddenly.

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Guided by his strange gut feeling, he turned his head toward the counter, straining his eyes before widening them. The barman was someone he knew, someone he thought he would never meet again.

“...Who’s that—wait, Young Master?!?” The bartender gasped in shock. He rubbed his eyes and rushed to his side, a happily surprised expression hanging on his face. “It’s me, Winston! The Cold Beer’s old owner! Do you remember me?”

Glenn chuckled in disbelief, staring up and down at the man in front of him.

“How could I not?” He laughed, “I almost died to your Fire Staff!”

They laughed together, as they both stared at each other, having a hard time trusting their eyes. Winston guided Glenn to an isolated table, before bringing a small barrel of ale. He slammed two mugs on the table, before sitting down in front of the young man.

“I…I can’t believe you’re alive, honestly,” Winston admitted as he emptied his mug in one gulp, “...When the Thorn’s Church set their eyes on someone, that someone often disappears forever. Almost every time. “

Glenn grimaced and rubbed his temples, before downing his mug of ale. His searing headache calmed down slightly, freeing him from the pain momentarily.

“Well, I probably am the only one who ever escaped from them. How come you were working with them, though?” He asked, wondering whether he should trust the bartender. After all, the latter had a stash of Moon Grass and held an establishment right in front of the Thorn’s Church. If that wasn’t suspicious, he didn’t know what was.

Winston blinked, before suddenly spitting out his ale in shock, “Me? Me? ME?!?” He slammed his mug on the table and took out a golden bracelet, showing it proudly, “I’m a proud member of the Gold Church and a loyal contributor to them!” The bartender scowled and pointed at Glenn menacingly, “The only reason I was “working” with these insane cultists was to make sure my family wouldn’t be in danger. I had no choice!”

Glenn reeled back in a placating manner, his hands raised in front of him, “Alright, alright, I believe you. And family, you say?”

Winston paused and suddenly adopted a wide, warm smile, “Yes, yes, my family! Do you want to meet them?” Without even giving Glenn the chance to reply, he sprang up from his seat and darted off, “Give me a second, I’ll present you to my wife and daughters!”

Glenn chuckled and leaned back in his seat, enjoying his beer silently. Someone suddenly patted him on the shoulder, startling him.

“I see you’ve started without me, Glenn,” Carys said with a chuckle as he sat in Winston’s previous seat. Glenn smiled and raised his beer at him.

“As I said, it’s on me. Thanks again for that day with the Scarecrows. If you hadn’t told me to stay on the road, I might have joined the skulls and bones in the ditches!”

Carys paled and crossed his hands worriedly, “D—don’t joke about that, Glenn! I’ve seen how you fight, you’re a mage, aren’t you?”

Glenn shrugged, “How is that impressive? Anyone can have a Convergence with the Magic Identification Bureau, can’t they?”

The farmer blinked and slowly took off his straw hat, putting it on his knees. “Glenn…” He spoke slowly, in disbelief, “...don’t you know that it’s extremely expensive to learn magic?”

Glenn opened his mouth with a frown but Carys stopped him. “I’m not talking about the Convergence, Glenn. I’m talking about how to use magic.”

He opened his palm and muttered something silently. A small lump of water appeared, trembling for a few seconds before destabilizing and falling apart, “I only know a few spells, yet I got my Convergence a decade ago. Books on magic are expensive, and extremely rare.”

Glenn blinked in incomprehension, “But what about the Magi Brotherhood?”

Carys stared at him with wide eyes and chuckled, incredulous, “What about them? They’re the ones who control the magic market, and the reason books on the subject are expensive. They keep all their knowledge for members of their organization and promising individuals!”

Glenn nodded, slowly coming to an understanding. That’s the moment that Winston chose to appear, his wife and daughters following him with happy smiles. They all thanked Glenn as if he was their savior. Winston joined the discussion after his families were done thanking Glenn and making him uncomfortable. That’s how Glenn learned that Winston owned the Frosty Beer, which he built by using a portion of the gold coins he received from him.

Now, thanks to Glenn’s donation, they were living their best life in the Northern Town, far from the Sewers and the Thorn’s Church machination. And to top it all off, since the Auberge crumbled, Winston’s business was booming. And so, he was the happiest man in the world.

Eventually, they had to get another barrel to refill their mugs. With a considerable amount of beers to liven the discussion, the three men talked for quite a while, Carys being the first to end up drunk, rambling about nobles and whatnot, swaying unsteadily as he talked to Glenn.

"Ya see, folks, that Baron Howard, he's a real piece of work, he is! I tell ya, he's been robbin' from them villagers for years, he has! hic"

With a bemused expression, Glenn continued to listen to Carys's drunken tirade about Baron Howard. He had known Carys as a jovial farmer who always wore a friendly smile, so this sudden outpouring of vitriol was rather unexpected. And welcomed. He had planned to ask about the Baron anyway, but Carys was spitting out information freely without him even asking.

Carys took another swig of his ale, his voice growing lower and more conspiratorial. "And ya wanna know the darkest bit 'bout that Baron, Glenn?" He leaned in closer, as if about to reveal a well-guarded secret. "I know because I was the stableman at his propriety back in the day', before kickin' me out."

Glenn leaned in as well, intrigued. "What is it, Carys? What did you see?"

Carys lowered his voice to a near whisper, his words slurred with intoxication. "I'm sure, yes... that Baron Howard... he's got a secret chamber deep beneath the castle. A chamber where he conducts these twisted experiments, dealin' with dark magics that ain't meant for mortal men."

Glenn's eyes widened, and he leaned in closer to catch every word.

"And it's not just some fancy alchemical brewin', no," Carys continued, his words filled with a mixture of fear and hate. "He's dabblin' in...in something from the Thorns Church. Or some 'ther evil group, 'am tellin' you! They say he's found a way to...to steal the essence of a man's soul, bindin' it to some cursed artifacts and sell 'em. Livin' artifacts, they call 'em!"

Glenn's expression turned grave as he absorbed the shocking revelation. "Are you sure, Carys? This sounds... insane."

'Holy, molly, this Baron turns out to be so much worse than I thought he was!' He secretly thought, shocked.

Carys nodded solemnly, a dark look on his face. "I know what I saw. Why woul' he takes by sweet Anita from me, otherwise?"

The farmer exploded in tears, before falling on the table, half-sniffling and half-snoring.

Glenn stared at him, before glancing at Winston, only to notice that he was sleeping soundly, his head resting against the back of his chair. People were really weak against alcohol in this world.

'Glenn, you might want to go outside, I feel like I'm going to throw up sometime soon...' Diamanes warned with a weak voice.

'Wait, what do you mean, throw up? That's my thing!' He exclaimed back, tipsy. He forced himself up and threw one last look at the two sleeping men. He shrugged and left the inn, taking a shortcut through a dark alley, hidden between two rows of houses. The two moons were high up in the sky, barely visible through the heavy dark clouds.

The alcohol washed off slightly with the fresh air of the evening, and the searing headache that was plaguing Glenn earlier came back in full throttle.

“...Phew…This sucks…” Glenn sighed as he held his head with one hand and leaned against a house with the other. He glanced at the sky worriedly, muttering through his teeth, “...Looks like it’s about to rain sometime soon.”

He took the glove off his left hand and stared at the purple skin and contorting mouth within his palm. Diamanes was gritting his teeth and making some small, weird noises.

Glenn grimaced, “You’re kind of scaring me, Diamanes. What’s going on—” He gasped as a wave of incredible power surged in his left hand, the terrible headache amplified to incredible heights. He grabbed his head and groaned loudly in pain, falling to his knees. The world in front of his eyes started to twist and turn into a warped version of reality. In a way, he felt something similar to what he had experienced when he had looked at the Seed of Darkness and almost lost his soul.

Through his fever, he saw a robed man closing in on him, a sword in his hand. Glenn raised his hand to try and stop him, but his voice wouldn’t come out of his throat. He wanted to tell him to leave, but the figure didn’t seem to hear him. Or perhaps Glenn couldn’t say a thing, he couldn’t tell right now. The only thing he was sure of was that this couldn't keep on going. He screamed, and in a roar of pain, held his left hand in front of him, in one last desperate try to tell the figure to leave. The robed person lunged at him before Glenn felt all the power in his hand leaving it, kicked out of it.

A warping sound echoed, as well as some disgusting flesh noises. Glenn heaved with difficulty as the headache faded away. He forced himself to look up and observed in horror as the robed person quickly went from human to inhuman. The transformation was grotesque and nightmarish, with the figure's body contorting and twisting in unnatural ways. Its flesh became slimy and covered in writhing, small tentacles akin to black worms, while its face transformed in the same manner into a mass of black tendrils and eyes that seemed to defy human comprehension.

Glenn stared at the product of this accident and felt a primal fear grip his soul as the creature stepped toward him, a strange sound coming from its mouth. It took another step as Glenn tentatively summoned a Magic Bullet, still staring in fright at the creature. Suddenly, the monster collapsed on itself and crashed to the ground, its black tendrils squirming desperately before transforming into ash, his weapon clanging on the ground.

Soon enough, the only remains of this terrible encounter were a black robe, a longsword, and a pile of ash.