Reyn saw the soul fly from Wilt's body and get absorbed by him.
In the next instant, his "phone's" energy charge surged. From 82%, it instantly passed 90% and kept rising, filling the last ten bars green in seconds. Charge full, even with slight overflow!
Reyn immediately felt changes in his soul. The World Tree swayed slightly; mind clouded in pleasant haze—very comfortable.
Signs of Soul Ascension.
Reyn had experienced this once before, so he stayed calm, not betraying his state. From last time, Soul Ascension would last about ten minutes, and upon completion, he'd become a third-level mage and fuse with a new Demonic Soul!
Suppressing excitement, he looked at the Witcher on the wall.
Roger sheathed his sword with utter calm. Killing a fourth-level magical swordsman was no harder for him than swatting a fly. Standing on the wall, he fully embodied a Legendary warrior's majesty.
He stepped to jump down but hesitated. Instead of leaping, he crouched, gripped the wall edge, and slid down carefully, landing smoothly.
Reyn watched in surprise. The wall was under three meters. Any superhuman, even a caster, could jump easily. Hell, a trained ordinary human wouldn't be hurt. But master Roger seemed afraid to jump, somewhat tarnishing the Legendary warrior image.
Roger noticed Reyn's gaze; his lips twitched.
"Acrophobic," he admitted grudgingly.
Reyn's face grew stranger; he clearly held back laughter.
Roger changed the awkward topic. He pulled off Wilt's mask, revealing unremarkable features.
"Shadow Blade assassin?" he asked.
"Has to be," Reyn replied, with his prepared story. "He tailed me on the street. I spotted him but couldn't shake him, so I led him here to the tavern to ask for master's help."
"You're lucky," Roger nodded. "I didn't go out today."
Reyn feigned relief. In truth, he'd checked earlier that Roger was in the tavern, then deliberately shown himself to Wilt to lure him here.
Roger no longer looked at Wilt. His gaze fixed on Reyn's forehead, where a thin white mark from the "Sword Flash" remained. It was shallow, just a skin scratch, healing in hours with Reyn's regen.
Roger eyed Reyn head to toe in surprise, as if seeing him anew.
"Steel Body?" he asked abruptly.
"Master is perceptive," Reyn flattered.
With a Legendary warrior's experience and insight, spotting Steel Body was easy. Felion's Security Bureau chief had recognized it at a glance—impossible to hide.
Roger shook his head and smirked:
"You keep surprising me. Call yourself a mage, yet have Steel Body. Can't imagine what you'll become at Legendary rank."
He clearly valued Reyn's potential highly and had no doubt he'd reach Legendary.
"I don't know either," Reyn answered honestly.
Such was the Battle Mage path's nature: arbitrary fusion with various Demonic Souls made the future unpredictable.
"But with Steel Body, you could've handled that Shadow Blade assassin yourself. Why need my help?" Roger asked, picking up Wilt's sword and examining it.
"He was too fast. Speed's my weakness," Reyn explained ruefully.
Wilt was a fourth-level magical swordsman—not the highest rank, but top-tier among mid-level superhumans. He posed a greater threat to Reyn than fifth-level Yetts, even more than the sixth-level elementalist at Winter Thunder Lake.
Main reason—Squall Wind Magical Swordsman's speed far exceeded Reyn's.
Reyn had mastered Charge for high speed, but it was a short burst with cooldown, not sustainable. Even with honed techniques—turns, direction changes, abrupt stops—his Charge lagged in speed and maneuverability. The gap was huge.
Wilt couldn't pierce Reyn's defense, but Reyn couldn't catch Wilt.
If Wilt fled, Reyn could do little.
Best solution: call on an even faster Legendary magical swordsman. But outcome was unexpected. Seeing master Roger, Wilt panicked for some reason, lost composure, and couldn't show a fraction of his skill. Reyn seized the moment, heavily wounding him with one Charge. He didn't even need his warhammer. He just held the foe seconds, preventing escape, while master Roger ended it with one sword stroke.
Far simpler than expected. Reyn was puzzled.
At that moment, the Witch emerged from the room in a loose black robe. She still looked sleepy, bare feet padding on the ground. Approaching Wilt's body, she frowned and asked:
"Reyn, where was this Shadow Blade assassin tailing you from?"
Reyn looked at the Witch. She seemed very mysterious to him, and her origins—suspicious. Earlier, Delaersha had said she had connections in the upper circles of Longsand and could help him get into the Academy or the Tower of Mages. However, Reyn had been hauling books in the Silverstar Academy library for almost a month and had heard something about the powerful mages of the Academy and the Tower, but he had never heard of a Legendary witch named Delaersha.
Maybe she kept a low profile, and few people knew about her? But could a Legendary mage really remain unknown?
Reyn felt doubts, but he quickly replied:
"From Brent Street."
He considered telling her that the Shadow Blade nest was in the Oath Sword shop, but decided against it—it might give away his ability to see souls. In any case, the Oath Sword was on Brent Street. If Delaersha really held a high position in the Tower of Mages, this hint should be enough to arouse her suspicions.
And indeed, Delaersha's face changed slightly.
"The Shadow Blade is getting bolder," she hissed.
Roger agreed:
"Lately, things have been uneasy in Longsand. Many monsters have gone into hiding. The Gate of the Void even appeared recently—fortunately, it was destroyed in time. Still, there's a feeling that something big is coming."
Reyn mentally admired her: the intuition of a Legendary witch was sharp.
Delaersha suddenly waved her hand. Magical energy flared, and a tall portal opened in the middle of the courtyard. Beyond it lay a spacious, luxuriously furnished room.
"Roger, I'll drop by sometime," Delaersha said goodbye, then nodded to Reyn and stepped into the portal.
Roger watched the portal close with some regret on his face.
"I hate portals," he muttered.
No sooner had Delaersha left than Zoltan entered the courtyard. Seeing the corpse, he exclaimed loudly:
"Where did this dead guy come from? What exploded here? You've scared off all the guests!"
Reyn quietly explained the situation.
"An assassin from the Shadow Blade?" Zoltan's red mustache bristled. "Reyn, if someone's tailing you, tell me! Let Roger handle it quietly. This guy burst into the courtyard and started a brawl! What if he'd wrecked the place? Would you pay for the repairs?"
"Uh..." Reyn looked at the ground. The blast wave from the Sorcerous Explosion had been powerful; several stone slabs in the courtyard had cracked.
He hastily apologized and offered the trophies as compensation.
For Wilt, besides a few gold shields, the most valuable item was his single-edged sword—a enchanted weapon worth no less than a thousand gold shields.
Zoltan took the sword, and his face immediately broke into a grin. However, he wasn't planning to keep it all for himself. He decided to sell the weapon on the black market and split the gold shields three ways.
Reyn and Roger had no objections, leaving the dwarf to handle the weapon and the body.
Zoltan stowed the sword and suddenly asked:
"Reyn, where've you been? Haven't seen you in ages. I wanted to discuss creating a spirit gun with you. Your room's still yours."
Reyn scratched his head, not knowing where to start.
"This guy's got a woman now," Roger interjected with a lewd grin, as if to say, "About time, Reyn, you're finally using your head!" "Of course he doesn't want to live in the tavern and hang out with you, a dwarf who reeks of nothing but booze."
Reyn was surprised: how did Roger know? He had never mentioned Viola to them, though he had indeed been coming to the tavern less often.
"I wasn't spying on you. It's the scent of a woman on you. I can smell it from three streets away," Roger sniffed, as if savoring the aroma, and nodded. "Violet with notes of moon grass. Good taste—you must have a very beautiful woman to enchant you like that."
Reyn was stunned. Identifying a woman by scent—that was some professionalism! He almost asked: are you a witcher or a skirt-chaser?
Zoltan bulged his eyes:
"Women, women! You humans have nothing but women on your minds—you can't think of anything else?"
Reyn was about to retort: and who was just groping the busty girl in the tavern's common room, face buried in her cleavage? With those specific tastes, he still dares to lecture him and Roger.
Roger didn't argue with the dwarf about women. He clapped Zoltan on the shoulder and smiled:
"Cards tonight."
"Perfect!" Zoltan cheered up immediately.
Cards didn't interest Reyn. He arranged to come tomorrow to discuss the spirit gun, said goodbye, and left the Basilisk tavern.
Returning to the Vigo manor, he found that Soul Ascension was complete.
He told Viola about it. Seeing his beaming face, she looked up from her papers in surprise. Reyn silently handed her the Soul Stone. Once gray-violet, now the stone was completely clear, transparently lilac, sparkling in the lamplight.
Viola noticed the difference right away. She stood up abruptly, stunned:
"You... you merged with it?"
"Yes," Reyn nodded.
"So now you're a third-level mage? Goddess..." Viola didn't know what to say. She had almost gotten used to his rapid progress.
She clearly remembered that Reyn had become a second-level mage quite recently. Only a month had passed, and here he was at third level!
Less than three months had passed since his first Soul Transformation.
Three months—from an ordinary human to a third-level mage! Less than a month per level on average. Even the most perfect Soul Transformation didn't grant such development speed. At least, the few known figures with perfect transformations hadn't shown such astonishing speed.
Viola looked at the man before her, and an inexplicable tremor stirred in her heart. Several absurd thoughts flashed through her mind.
"Reyn, are you by any chance a reincarnated god?"
"Of course not," Reyn laughed, shaking his head. "I'm just a mortal."
As he said it, he looked at the half-elf's beautiful figure, clad only in a silk nightshirt through which her seductive curves were visible, with frank lust. Though he had measured them countless times himself, his heart still beat faster.
This lecherous gaze truly belonged to a mortal.
Viola suppressed her complex feelings and met his scorching gaze. Their bodies soon entwined.
After a stormy night, Reyn woke refreshed and full of energy. He began his usual morning meditation and training.
Viola had breakfast and left—she was now devoting all her energy to creating the Silver Star recording company and was very busy.
Reyn had given her all the technologies for producing gramophones and records. After careful consideration, to speed up the company creation and release the first batch of gramophones by year's end, Viola decided to buy an existing mechanical factory. Her choice fell on Kenedji's company. In exchange for ten percent of the recording company's shares, she acquired Anders Mechanical Company.
Kenedji's company was not small; its total value was around fifty thousand gold shields, far exceeding the current price of a ten-percent stake. Yet Kenedji agreed without hesitation.
He not only agreed to the deal but also invested an additional ten thousand gold shields as startup capital, showing exceptional generosity.
Reyn and Viola weren't surprised—any smart businessman would do the same. The prospects of Silver Star were limitless, and in the future, that stake's value would multiply several tens of thousands of gold. Plus, the true owner was the Duchess of the Silver Star. Joining her company meant gaining a connection to the Duchess herself—a chance many could only dream of.
Learning that Reyn had provided this opportunity, Kenedji was endlessly grateful.
As a High-Rank Mechanic, Kenedji lacked outstanding combat abilities but was a true genius in mechanics. In just a few days, he mastered the gramophone technology, improved it, making production cheaper and more efficient than in Reyn's original plan.
Reyn was pleased with this development and no longer interfered.
His days flowed steadily and fully. Mornings—meditation and training, then a few hours of work in the Great Library of the Silver Star, and after lunch—lessons on crafting spirit guns with Zoltan at the Basilisk tavern. Evenings he spent at the Vigo manor with Viola, often deepening their bond.
In this time, Reyn visited Brent Street several times and secretly watched the Oath Sword shop. He noticed that after Wilt's death, Loxi's followers appeared there much less often. Whether their plans were foiled or they had gone into hiding sensing danger, Reyn didn't know. He didn't dare investigate and pretended to know nothing.
Basilisk tavern, mechanical workshop.
Reyn sat at the workbench. His hands moved at incredible speed, parts falling into place one by one, and soon he assembled a massive pistol.
The weapon, over thirty centimeters long and entirely cast from silvery metal, weighed fifteen pounds sterling. Its predatory outlines and unique design, with the grip and barrel covered in runes, created a strange beauty—a blend of magic and mechanics.
Click—the magazine was inserted.
Reyn took the pistol in hand. Using the Metal Touch element, he sensed every detail of the weapon.
This was his first spirit gun. The design was relatively simple, only vaguely resembling the famous Desert Eagle from his past life on the outside, but inside it was completely different.
A spirit gun was essentially an enchanted weapon. This pistol was no exception: it used phlogiston bullets, and the shot was initiated by the shooter's spiritual power. The power was considerable.
"Zoltan, take a look," Reyn handed the pistol to the dwarf standing nearby.
Zoltan took the spirit gun and whistled in admiration:
"I don't even need to test it to know—it's excellent. Reyn, you're a natural gunsmith! You've been learning from me for less than ten days and already made your first spirit gun. Besides deeper rune knowledge, I have nothing left to teach you."
As he spoke, he walked to the corner of the workshop and fired at the wall.
Bang!
A deafening shot rang out. The runes on the pistol glowed red, sparks flew. A dent formed in the stone wall.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Zoltan kept firing, emptying the magazine. The spirit gun's strong recoil barely affected him; the barrel stayed steady, and every bullet hit precisely, chipping stone from the wall.
"Stable power, runes activate smoothly, no loosening in the construction," Zoltan clucked his tongue. "If I hadn't seen you assemble it, I'd think it was the work of an old master gunsmith."
He noticed that this spirit gun felt somehow special, though he couldn't pinpoint why. It was just incredibly comfortable, and shooting it was pure pleasure. Despite the enchantment only slightly boosting firing rate and its power being average, the recoil felt superb!
Zoltan didn't want to let it go.
"Reyn, sell me this pistol. I want it for my collection."
"Like it? Take it," Reyn smiled without a hint of regret. "Consider it a thank-you gift for the lessons."
"Perfect! Then I won't stand on ceremony!" Zoltan happily stroked the spirit gun, his thick beard quivering with delight.
Reyn smiled, understanding this attachment to things.
In truth, he had studied gunsmithing only to understand rune technology and application, not out of love for spirit guns.
Weapons were external objects, far less reliable than one's own power.
If he were in a world without supernatural forces, where everyone was ordinary, creating firearms would be the best choice. But here, in a world ruled by personal might, weapons seemed somewhat useless.
With his current strength and Steel Body, Reyn could ignore most spirit guns—they likely couldn't pierce his defenses. High-quality specimens that could threaten him might exist, but they were rare.
On Ellunes, there were countless spells and abilities far more powerful, convenient, and effective than spirit guns. It wasn't worth investing too much effort in them.
This was the problem with the Gunner class. Gunners started easily, were strong at early stages, and with one spirit gun could face any Superhuman. But at mid-levels, due to weapon power limits, their overall strength became mediocre. At high levels, due to a sparse arsenal of techniques, they ranked at the bottom of class hierarchies.
Exceptions were only those Gunners who reached Legendary rank and became Cannoniers—beings, by rumor, rarer than dragons.
Reyn had no interest in the Cannonier path. Far more appealing were ideas for firearms from his past life.
Powder weapons had one advantage: no spiritual power needed to fire.
He had watched Kenedji work and noticed his mechanical golems were for close combat or used minor magic, but lacked ranged weapons. The reason was simple: golems had no spiritual power to activate phlogiston bullets.
What if powder weapon tech was combined with mechanical golems? Couldn't that create a mechanical army with powerful ranged armament?
Besides powder weapons, there were other ideas. Some sci-fi blueprint weapons, like blasters, also didn't require spiritual power. In his past world, they couldn't be made due to material and tech limits. But here on Ellunes, with its supernatural forces, possibilities were boundless!
This thought excited Reyn. Of course, these were just possibilities, far from realization.
Reyn shook his head, stood, and headed to the workshop storeroom for alchemical materials for further research.
The storeroom was dark, but he had Darkvision, and after merging with the Will of Truth, super-powerful Mental vision too. Even in pitch blackness, he saw clearly, better than in daylight.
Grabbing a few ingredients from the shelf, Reyn glanced at the floor and froze.
He had noticed these carved floor patterns before, hidden under dust. They seemed odd, but he hadn't paid attention.
Today was different.
Reyn keenly felt magical fluctuations from the patterns. Faint energy seeped from under the dust.
He crouched and brushed away the dust, revealing a complex, mysterious rune.
"Teleportation circle?"
Reyn recognized it immediately. This rune belonged to the arcane sequence, often used in teleportation arrays.
After thinking, he called Zoltan.
The dwarf entered the storeroom with a gas lamp. Seeing the runic array on the floor, he goggled:
"Teleportation circle... activated?"