As the ship continued to travel to its destination, Isol was in deep contemplation. He was not arrogant enough to think that just because of his luck he would be able to stroll through the battlefields.

He wanted to make another skill. One that he could control and was less random, he already had an idea of what he wanted to make. It was going to be a pseudo curse and luck skill. He will use luck as a medium to transfer the curse onto the enemies.

Wizards can easily block curses as long as they know a few protective skills, but skills that could protect luck would not exist for these lower-tier wizards.

Isol began to condense his luck again, this time it wasn't going to be in the shape of a lotus but in the shape of a dice.

The idea for the skill was that he was going to roll a luck condensed dice, whichever face it lands on will hit the enemy with the curses that are on the side.

As he was condensing his luck he shaped it from a D6 to a D20 then he tried for a D100, but the moment he tried to make a D100 Isol vomited blood. Something stopped him from creating a D100.

"It must be because I'm too weak, maybe when I become stronger then I can create stronger dice."

Wiping the blood off his mouth, he restarted the process again. This time just stopped at a D20. Holding the dice in his hand he began to carve numbers on each of the faces. With the numbers carved on the yellow dice, it finally started to look like a normal D20.

With the foundation created the real process began. He had to inscribe curses onto each of the faces. The way he was going to do this was by inscribing the spell formula for the curses. As he started on the first face which was the number 1, he inscribed the curse of weakening, the curse of extreme blindness, the curse of magical siphon, the curse of extreme fear, and the curse of brittle bones. When he tried to inscribe a sixth curse he was stopped.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Something keeps blocking me, if I was stronger then it would probably be more successful, but I can only blame it on my weakness."

He moved to the next side of the dice when he started to inscribe a new set of curses, he noticed that one of the curses on the number 1 side started to fade. Isol shocked by what he saw, stopped the inscribing process. The curse stopped fading into dust and began to recover.

"So I can't inscribe curses on the other faces unless I want to spread my curses out on each face."

"What can I inscribe on the other faces that won't interfere with the original face?"

He started to inscribe other spell formulas he knew on the faces but the best result he got was buffing spells. He couldn't inscribe any magical spells onto the dice as if it was god's will that was stopping him. Only spells that increased one's strength were allowed on the other faces.

So on all the other faces, he started to inscribe buffs onto them, he had to inscribe a minimum of 4 buffs onto each of the other faces, or else the curses would start to fade on the first one. With the process completed, he finally took a good look at the D20.

The D20 was mainly yellow still from the numbers 2-20 with buffs on each face. While only the side with the number 1 was red and had curses on it.

"Well, I guess I only need to land on a 1 for my curses to apply."

Just like before when he created his first spell Deus Ex Machina, he started to feel the euphoric feeling again. This time he was more comfortable with it, unlike last time when it was overwhelming him. When the euphoric feeling ended.

In his mind, he had another spell formula. It was in the shape of a D20 with an evil grin on its face, multiple magical words were making up the structure of the dice.

"I guess I'll just call this spell, Malicious Dice it suits the name of it anyways."

As the first experiment of the new skill, he was going to test it on himself. Unfortunately, the dice did nothing against him, it didn't buff or curse him. He wanted to test it on the apprentices outside his room right now but he restrained himself from doing so.

He still had a bit of morality, if he started to go wild that was when he knew that the world had assimilated him.