"Ugh..."
The stench grew worse the closer they got to the hut. And when they reached the door... it hit its peak. A fishy reek so bad it made him want to retch. He could already guess what the inside looked like.
Yeah, I figured as much.
A moment later, as he peered inside the hut... he knew his hunch had been spot on.
"What a mess."
The interior looked like a scene from a slasher flick. Blood splattered across the ceiling, walls, and floor. Everywhere. And on the operating table lay unidentifiable chunks of meat and blood-soaked tools, scattered in disarray. Gruesome.
He'd seen plenty of corpses living in this world. People died easily here. He'd witnessed plenty of animal slaughterings too. Even so, this was so horrific it made even him grimace. But his master's face remained impassive.
"I can't fathom why he'd go to such pointless lengths."
That was his master's take after a quick scan of the hut.
"What do you mean by pointless?"
"The necromancer who attacked us seems to have been chopping up corpses and stitching them back together to make materials for a flesh golem. He wanted a stronger golem but couldn't find a way to boost the creation spell's effect, so he tried enhancing the materials instead. A waste of effort."
"Why's that?"
"Patching up spell materials like this won't yield much. Far better to learn a dedicated material enhancement spell or hunt down a higher-rank corpse and use that as your base for the undead."
Meaning it was more effective to use reinforcement magic on the corpses used for undead creation than to Frankenstein them yourself. Yeah, that made sense up to there. But hunting higher-rank corpses? That part was a mystery.
"What's a 'rank'?"
"The soul's grade. Raising it expands your limits."
"Is the soul the mind?"
"No. Different thing. The soul is a third concept, beyond body or mind. Mages describe it in all sorts of ways—essence of humanity, immortal self, you name it."
"So it's another component that makes up the 'self', like body or mind?"
"Right. That's a good way to think of it."
His master nodded and continued.
"How was my skeleton?"
"Insanely strong."
The image was still vivid: cleaving the flesh golem's thick torso in one stroke. A scene that shattered his common sense.
"That skeleton was a high-rank knight in life. He hunted infamous monsters, racked up feats. A hero, you could say."
"Ah, so that's why it was so powerful."
"Knights don't hunt strong monsters for nothing. It's all to raise their rank."
"But does the soul linger after death? I figured it'd vanish like the mind."
"The soul fades, but its husk remains—like a corpse after death. Higher-rank souls leave bigger husks, which hold more power. Of course, it's a fraction of their living strength."
A fraction of that power? His master's skeleton... he couldn't even imagine what kind of knight that skull had belonged to. Then a sudden question popped up. If knights got stronger by raising rank, couldn't mages do the same?
"Master, can mages raise their rank too?"
"Of course. Same spell from a high-rank versus low-rank mage hits different. Plenty of mages chase danger to boost theirs."
Thankfully, the answer was yes.
"So if I raise my rank, could Ignition summon mansion-sized flames?"
"In theory, yes."
His mind lit up at that. If a low-mana basic spell could pack that punch, it'd be invaluable. No way it wouldn't pique his interest.
"How do you raise rank?"
"One way only: killing. Man, beast, monster—slay them. Higher their rank, bigger your gain."
"So the boost depends on the victim's rank?"
"Exactly."
Got it. If magic was skills, rank was levels. Stronger monsters meant more EXP on a successful hunt. Then a curiosity struck. Could you even leech? Like in games, where strong players carry weak ones.
"Master, got a question."
"Shoot."
"If a high-rank person disables a strong monster, and a low-rank finishes it off—what happens?"
"Records say nobles tried that to boost their kids' ranks back in the day. No dice. You have to take the lead in combat yourself."
"Gotcha."
No leeching, sadly. Made sense—if it worked, his master would've handed him kills before he even asked. Disabled the necromancer, flesh golem, zombies, then told him to mop up. Still, no regrets. He'd learned another path to power beyond new spells. Great master means a smooth road ahead.
Without him, a peasant like Heros would've learned zilch. Hell, he wouldn't have learned magic at all. No grimoires in a backwater village. Even stumbling on the sacred rowan tree, he'd have been beaten to death by villagers for defiling it.
Thank god I followed him.
That was when his master called out.
"Heros, I'll check for material valuables. You hunt for the grimoire."
Meaning cash or treasures. Too awkward to say it outright to his disciple. Best to play dumb.
"Yes, sir!"
He replied energetically, then focused to sense mana.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
This one's trickier.
Digori watched Heros close his eyes. Asking his disciple to find the grimoire? Test and training. The necromancer had holed up here long. Repeated spells, alternating ones, churning out undead. Residual mana everywhere, a chaotic mess. Pinpointing just the grimoire's aura amid that? Tough even for veterans.
Could a newbie pull it off without genius senses? That's why Digori assigned it. He believed Heros could.
Still, it'll take time, Digori figured.
While Heros searched, he'd scour for hidden loot. Knock on walls for compartments, if uninterrupted.
"Master! Found the grimoire!"
"Already?"
"Yeah! Its aura was so unique. Made it easy."
Digori froze mid-step toward a wall, probing the ambient mana. Residual echoes everywhere, tangled. Scanning, he spotted an alien power. Had to be the grimoire Heros mentioned. From a bookshelf on the wall. Tucked among other books.
In that short time? Digori marveled at his disciple's talent once more. Took him a full minute to locate it. Heros? Ten seconds. Weird if he wasn't shocked. Where's the limit to this talent? Does it even have one? Digori shook off stray thoughts. Focus on the disciple now.
"Any guess what kind it is?"
"New magic type. Nothing like the grimoires I've felt before."
"What does it feel like?"
"Um... refreshing? Like a breath of fresh air?"
"I see."
Digori replied curtly. Couldn't relate. Heros could describe plant magic as fresh, water as crisp, fire as exhilarating, earth as solemn. Not him. He just knew they had distinct mana signatures. Most mages were like him. Heros was the outlier. But he kept that to himself. Preserve the master's authority.
"This one's... lightning magic."
Digori shifted to something Heros would like. And he bit.
"Lightning? You mean bolts and thunder?"
"Yes."
"Whoa...!"
Heros's eyes sparkled. Thrilled at the prospect. But as master, Digori had to ground him.
"Heros, lightning magic is extremely hard to learn."
"Grimoires picky with people?"
"Spot on. Lightning grimoires are very exclusive to humans. Even mages often can't hear them."
"Ah, that explains it... I sensed it, but no voice."
Heros looked crestfallen. Digori consoled with an intriguing tale.
"Why lightning grimoires shun humans? Unclear. But some mages interpret mage-grimoire bonds mythically."
"Mythically?"
"Just a theory—take it for fun. The Earth God molded humans from clay, breathed life into them. Famous story—you've heard it."
Any imperial-born knew it; Heros nodded. Digori pressed on.
"So earth, water, and wind grimoires are human-friendly, per those mages. Makes sense."
"And lightning?"
"Lightning's the High God's domain—immensely powerful. Gods wouldn't grant that to humans lightly. From their view."
"Oh."
"But it's not impossible. I've seen lightning mages."
"Ooh."
Heros swallowed hard, hooked. Digori spun the yarn with gusto.
"He said he was a water mage once. Got struck by lightning one day. Afterward, he could hear the lightning grimoire and became one."
"Forget learning it—surviving a bolt is the miracle."
"My reaction too. Point is, don't sweat it if you can't. Happens to most mages."
"Yes, sir."
"Now grab the grimoire. Might get zapped someday. Learn it then."
"Uh... sure."
Heros grimaced, heading to the shelf. As he pulled it out—
Shraaak!
The cover flipped open on its own, pages rapidly turning. One cause for that: fulfilling the grimoire's request.
"Heros, when did you fulfill its request?"
Digori's eyes bulged.
"I didn't do anything!"
Heros looked flustered. And—
Snap!
Soon, it closed. Then crumbled to dust and vanished.
"..."
"..."
Silence hung between them after. Digori broke it.
"Heros, ever been struck by lightning before?"
"Bird poop, maybe..."
Heros blinked in confusion.
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