The higher the spell circle, the greater the power—and the fewer the spells.
This was inevitable. Creating a stable and powerful spell was extremely difficult. The current spell system also owed much to those extraordinarily gifted Wizards throughout history.
Having just advanced, Anser was already able to master six fourth-circle spells. Any spellcaster who heard that would turn green with envy.
[Spells: Banishment, Fire Shield; Intelligence: +2; Metamagic: Subtle Spell. Confirm?]
'Confirm!'
The next moment, a vast surge of magic power poured down from the top of the tower, stirring rings of magical vortices. Wherever it passed, the runic patterns lit up one after another, then streamed directly into the circular platform at the center of the room.
Accompanied by a faint humming sound, a pillar of force field formed and carried Anser's body away, vanishing from the spot.
Startled, Anser quickly scanned his surroundings and discovered that he was floating in the spherical space underground. Starlight glittered all around him, as if he had been placed in the middle of the night sky.
He let out a breath of relief. After confirming there was no danger, he once again entered a meditative state.
At this moment, the magic power within his body resonated. Elemental radiance and innate magic power reflected off one another, stirring rings of iridescent light. Fragments of inherited memories flowed through his mind, gradually turning into sparks of understanding.
Anser felt that the increase in Intelligence had not been wasted. He could comprehend and grasp this knowledge with relative ease; even six fourth-circle spells did not make him feel strained or difficult to understand.
'Sorcerer spells are few but refined… could it be because their brains aren't big enough?' The thought suddenly crossed his mind.
He had no idea how much time had passed before everything finally settled.
When Anser opened his eyes, a black cat's head filled his vision. Its glossy round eyes were staring at the soft scales on his face.
Startled, he leaned backward. Only then did he notice that the magic book had somehow floated in front of him.
The black cat lay on top of it, tucking its two small paws slightly inward. It did not retreat into the magic book. After giving him a meow, it stepped across the book and drifted away.
'Appearing and disappearing like a ghost… what just happened?' Anser muttered, taking out the Rod of Security.
The moment he held it, a mental message traveled along the rod.
This place was called the Astrolabe Arcane Array. It served as both the control room and a meditation chamber, as well as a magic power pool.
The magic power storm just now had connected with the Black Tower's magic power pool and activated the tower's teleportation function.
In other words, he could teleport directly into the Black Tower from outside, and he could also teleport freely within the tower itself. A single thought would allow him to reach any place—but it would consume energy.
If only he used it himself, natural recovery alone would still be enough to supply it.
'Not bad.' He raised a hand and snapped his fingers, and his figure reappeared in the top-floor room.
He brought up his character sheet. The data on it had already changed drastically.
His Hit Points had soared to 77, absolutely no weaker than those of an ordinary Barbarian.
His Magic Power had reached 81. He could cast eleven fourth-circle spells, and he could throw sixteen Fireballs, giving him much better endurance.
After that battle earlier, he had come to deeply realize that spells were his true foundation.
Cutting people down blade by blade was indeed exhilarating, but it was too exhausting!
After hacking down twenty or thirty ordinary soldiers, he was already so tired that his arms were becoming a little hard to lift. The efficiency was very low.
In terms of destructive power and killing efficiency, spells stood alone in a class of their own. The higher the level, the greater the gap.
With his Intelligence raised to 16, it was hard for him to notice any change in his intellect directly, but his memory, comprehension, logical reasoning, and spatial imagination had all improved noticeably. His thinking had become sharper.
Aside from that, the changes in other areas were not significant.
Only a pitiful 892 points remained in his experience pool, while raising Sorcerer to level 8 still required 11,000 experience points, and raising Paladin to level 4 also required 3,600 experience points.
Leveling up was becoming more and more difficult.
'I'm getting stronger too.'
That level-8 Barbarian of the Flaming Fist in Rivington, whom he once had to look up to, probably could not withstand more than a few Fireballs from him now.
Thinking of it that way, Anser's mood became even better.
Noon had already passed. He teleported to the doorway of the second-floor dining hall, pushed the door open, and a wave of warm air mixed with the aroma of food rushed at his face.
Everyone was eating. Limited by the available ingredients, the meal was not particularly lavish.
"Why did you only just get here? We thought you'd gone out again. We were just talking about you," Salian said with a smile, beckoning to him.
"What were you saying about me?" Anser sat down in the main seat and gestured for the cook to serve him some food. After being busy all day, he was truly hungry.
"We were saying that you… have become more imposing." Salian chuckled, clearly implying something.
Anser's expression turned awkward. He knew what Salian meant, but he did not refute it.
Judging by his previous fighting style, if he could ambush someone, he would absolutely never fight head-on, much less spout any righteous-sounding nonsense before a battle.
The others thought he was maintaining his composure in front of Iris, but in truth it was merely the restraint of his oath. Fortunately, the effect was not significant.
"Bratt, did Rudin come looking for you?" He changed the subject.
Bratt was taken aback for a moment, then reacted. "The village chief you appointed, right? He came by this morning, but I wasn't there at the time. I'll go find him after the meal."
"Mm." Anser pondered for a moment. "Since everyone is willing to stay, you can choose some helpers and divide up the work. If there's anything you don't understand, ask Captain Salian."
"Also, make a count of everyone's needs and draw up a list. I'll find someone to purchase everything in one batch."
"No problem." Bratt nodded slightly.
Recalling the battle earlier that day, Salian reminded him, "You should try to stay inside Fort Jacqueline. The people of Amn suffered a heavy loss—they'll probably go mad trying to retaliate against you."
"I can guess…" Anser chuckled softly.
Putting himself in their place, if he had failed to hunt the black dragon and the troops had never returned, he would certainly be furious as well.
The few of them chatted while eating. After the meal, everyone went about their own tasks.
Anser teleported back to Fort Jacqueline. Iris had not returned yet, so he simply borrowed paper and a pen from the steward and prepared to appraise the spoils of war one by one, recording them for easier distribution later.
He ignored the ordinary items and focused only on the magic items.
The first one was the black javelin that had pierced his armor and taken 23 Hit Points from the protective magic barrier of the Protector's Bracer.
The protective magic barrier of the Protector's Bracer only had 120 Hit Points in total. Now it was down to 97, and ordinary means would have difficulty restoring it.
The javelin was about one meter long, entirely black, and cold to the touch. It was impossible to tell what kind of metal it was made of. Its head was shaped like a triangular pyramid, incomparably sharp.
The dice rotated slightly, quickly detecting the javelin's information.
[Magic Item: Kiss of Death]
Category: Weapon
Rarity: Rare
After being thrown, whether it hits the target or not, the javelin automatically returns to its owner's hand.
Dragon Bane: This weapon carries a unique magical property. It is more effective at piercing dragon scales and deals an additional 3d6 (3–18) points of damage to dragon targets.
Foulblood Poison: After the target is wounded, the thrower may choose whether to release the poison. Remaining uses: 1/3.
After releasing the poison, the target must make a difficult Constitution saving throw. On a failed save, the target falls into a poisoned state for 6 hours.
While poisoned, the target's Hit Points continuously decrease, its body becomes paralyzed, and it becomes difficult for it to move.
Dragon creatures have disadvantage when making this Constitution saving throw.
'No wonder…' Anser clicked his tongue inwardly.
Fortunately, he had the Protector's Bracer. Otherwise, today he could only have fled back to Holrewen in embarrassment. With only Iris and the others, the losses would inevitably have been considerable.
Unfortunately, only one dose of the foulblood poison remained, and it could not be replenished.
'For it to end up in my hands—what luck. Could the people of Amn mass-produce magic items like this? Probably not.'
For some reason, he felt a chill along his back—perhaps because he himself was also a dragon.
Judging from the properties of the foulblood poison, even an adult dragon might fall victim to it.
After being poisoned, it might not be completely unable to move, but it would very likely become sluggish and weak, just like Visagazur, to the point that even a level-13 Barbarian could not do anything about it.
'In other words, I now have one chance to hunt a dragon…'
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