Glug… glug… glug…
The moment the crimson liquid dripped into the narrow fissure on the cover, a strange sound erupted from the book, like a human gulping down water in great, desperate swallows. The entire tome began to writhe visibly, its cover and pages twisting as if it were alive.
A sudden chill swept through the side keep, dropping the temperature several degrees. Shadows seemed darker, the lamplight dimmer. Outside, the hounds barked sharply, their voices cutting through the crisp night air, while the horses in the stables whinnied in alarm. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though the very air had grown heavier, the sounds strangled and cut short.
Snap!
Richard's hand landed on the book's cover.
The moment his palm pressed against it, warmth and elasticity radiated beneath his fingers, a sensation startlingly akin to pressing against human skin. Goosebumps traveled along his forearm as he realized this was no ordinary tome.
Black ink, previously invisible, spread outward in rippling waves from the point of contact. Within moments, letters formed on the cover, rising above the earlier inscription into the place where a title should be:
Loren's Human-Skin Manuscript
"Loren's… Human-Skin Manuscript?!" Richard murmured aloud, pausing over the last two words.
Human-skin manuscript… a 'notebook,' a collection of notes, and yet written on human skin itself… he thought, shivering slightly.
Without hesitation, he flipped open the cover, eyes scanning the first page. Lines of dense, meticulously formed script filled the space:
"Mortal, be still. Listen carefully as I reveal the secrets of the wizards…"
The night passed without sleep. Dawn's first light crept over the horizon, washing the keep in pale illumination. Richard finally closed the manuscript, placing it gently on the table. He stood, moving to the window and surveying the castle grounds below—soldiers, servants, and grooms beginning their morning routines. A rare, small smile tugged at his lips.
"Interesting," he said softly, almost to himself.
"And… very interesting," he added, unable to suppress the excitement building within him.
This single night of study had confirmed that his years spent hunting magical creatures had been worthwhile. Through the crimson extract from the Firebear and the awakening of the manuscript, Richard had glimpsed a fragment of an entirely different, enigmatic world.
He closed his eyes, replaying the contents of the manuscript in his mind. After a long, meditative pause, he spoke to himself:
If the notes are not misleading… even becoming a low-level wizard—capable only of the simplest spells—would be unimaginably difficult.
Many speculative accounts he had encountered described magical training as simple: sit cross-legged, absorb the energy of the universe, store it within, then release it at will during battle.
This manuscript was far more complex. While the fundamental steps—absorb, store, release—remained, each stage contained intricate requirements.
Richard pulled a rolled scroll of papyrus onto the table, unrolling it carefully. With a quill dipped in ink, he began taking notes, organizing his thoughts. This, too, was a form of manuscript—a modern counterpart to the ancient pages he now held.
The First Challenge: Energy Absorption
The manuscript referred to the first step as Meditation.
Richard understood the concept. On Earth, meditation had originated in modern India as part of yogic practice, a technique for achieving concentration and a calm, near-trance state. It allowed one to sense the ultimate rhythm of the universe—though far too mystical for practical use, it could center the mind.
However, the meditation described in the Loren manuscript went far deeper. Whereas Indian meditation relied on a semi-conscious state, the manuscript's method demanded total immersion. One's body would sleep while awareness remained fully alert. External stimuli could not penetrate, yet consciousness remained intact.
Richard realized this resembled what Earthlings called lucid dreaming, or techniques such as astral projection and Monroe-style out-of-body experiences.
Ordinarily, achieving this state required abrupt awakening from deep sleep, a fragile moment where the body could not move but the mind remained active. Success was rare: perhaps once in dozens of attempts. Gradually entering this state while awake was even more difficult, requiring mastery few could attain.
Richard lacked both the skill and the conditions—an immediate hurdle.
The Second Challenge: Establishing a Mana Source
Meditation allowed one to collect energy elements. However, the manuscript warned that these elements could not simply reside within the body. One had to consciously open a mana source, a personal reservoir to store the energy safely.
Creating this mana source demanded tremendous mental discipline and a unique state of bodily activation—a rare and precarious physiological condition. Knowing how to enter it constituted the second major challenge.
The Third Challenge: Refining and Casting
The final challenge involved refining stored energy into a pure, singular form for spellcasting. Direct use was impossible; the mixed, raw energy elements had to be melted, fused, and purified.
The refinement process required a bodily state similar to, but not identical with, that used to establish a mana source. Mastery over this duality of states—the ability to manipulate the body into specific conditions at will—was crucial. This was the third challenge.
Only by overcoming all three stages could one release spells effectively.
Richard studied the hierarchy of magical aptitude in the manuscript.
Those capable of passing all three tests were considered extraordinarily gifted—Golden Seed wizards. Those who cleared two out of three were Silver Seed, often capable of becoming competent wizards under proper tutelage. The majority, however, passed none. These were labeled Black Seed, a term as derisive as the word "mudblood" in Earth's magical literature—a stigma of absolute mediocrity.
Richard had already tested himself. One attempt, following the manuscript's instructions, confirmed what he suspected: he belonged to the Black Seed, an ordinary human without natural aptitude. There would be no spells for him, no innate magical talent.
And yet, he felt no disappointment. For him, the pursuit was not becoming a wizard—it was understanding them. Not having talent was not a barrier; it was merely an additional variable to study, a puzzle to solve.
Why must a wizard overcome these three obstacles? Could there be a way for someone without natural ability to succeed? What would it mean to wield true spellcraft? The possibilities thrilled him: uncovering wizardry's secrets, devising a way to replicate magic, mastering every mysterious force in the world—this was genuine excitement.
Richard slowed his quill, rereading his notes and hypotheses. Various approaches to circumvent or manage the three challenges lay in neat columns across the papyrus.
A small smirk tugged at his lips.
"Three impossible hurdles, you say? Interesting. Very well… let's see just how difficult you really are."