Chapter 111: The Blood-Refined Divine Artifact 2

“What?”

A puzzled voice suddenly came from beside him.

“Ah! Daphne?”

Kent nearly jumped out of his skin.

Once he saw that it was only Daphne, he let out a long breath and patted his chest.

“You scared me half to death.”

Daphne, however, was not looking at him.

Her eyes were fixed entirely on the staff in his hand, practically sparkling with admiration.

“It’s so beautiful.”

She stared at it in wonder.

“Kent, you’re amazing.”

Hearing that, Kent could only feel awkward.

Amazing?

Forget the refinement process itself—just the materials used to make this staff were things he could never hope to obtain on his own, even if someone beat him to death and demanded that he reproduce it.

Still, Kent had no intention of explaining that.

A divine artifact was the sort of thing best kept secret.

The fewer people who knew about it, the safer he would be.

As that thought crossed his mind, another one followed.

If only the staff were not so eye-catching, it would be much easier to conceal.

“Hm?”

The instant that thought appeared, the staff actually changed.

The brilliant emerald-green shaft immediately lost its luster and darkened until it looked almost black again.

Even the Stone of Life at its tip became dull and cloudy, resembling nothing more than an unpolished green gemstone.

Kent stared at it in surprise.

Then delight quickly replaced his astonishment.

A staff mounted with ordinary green gemstones was among the lowest grades of magical staves.

In its current form, this one looked almost like the failed first attempt of an inexperienced alchemist.

If someone dropped it on the ground, even a moderately accomplished mage might not bother bending down to pick it up.

“Did the refinement fail?”

Daphne asked uncertainly after seeing the sudden transformation.

She had heard her elders describe failed alchemical products before, and this staff now looked almost exactly like one of those failures.

In truth, there were quite a few alchemists among the dark elves.

Their craft, however, differed greatly from human alchemy.

Dark elf alchemists mainly focused on magical bows, enchanted arrows, jewelry, and similar items.

Daphne herself was not yet capable of crafting advanced equipment, but as an Arcane Archer, she would eventually need to learn how to make her own magical arrows.

And much like the surface elves, dark elves placed extraordinary importance on artistry.

Practicality was often secondary.

A dark elf might spend several days perfecting the shape and decoration of a single magical arrow.

A human alchemist, on the other hand, would usually care far more about how much damage it could do.

That was why Daphne naturally assumed the staff had failed during refinement.

“Heh...”

Kent chuckled and immediately changed the subject.

“Never mind that. Do you know what those sounds outside might be?”

Then he quickly told her what had happened while she was unconscious.

The moment Daphne heard his description, her expression changed.

“Undead.”

She moved closer to Kent almost instinctively.

“Those are undead creatures.”

Her body trembled slightly.

Undead creatures felt no pain.

They did not fear injury.

And they had no fear of death.

That alone was enough to make them terrifying enemies in Daphne’s eyes.

“Then what are undead creatures most afraid of?”

Kent asked.

His knowledge of these more systematic magical classifications was extremely limited.

If not for the complete body of Divine Alchemy knowledge stored in his mind, he probably would not even have been able to identify the materials used in the staff.

Daphne, on the other hand, had already lived for several decades.

She undoubtedly knew far more about such things than he did.

“Light-element magic is the most effective against undead.”

Daphne listened nervously to the eerie sounds drifting through the temple as she spoke.

“Fire magic also has a suppressive effect, but undead can be divided into several kinds.”

“One type is spectral undead.”

“These creatures strengthen themselves by devouring the souls of others.”

“They don’t possess physical bodies, so the best ways to fight them are light-element magic and spirit-element attacks.”

“Sealing magic can also work to some extent.”

“As for most other types of magic... they usually aren’t very effective.”

Daphne paused, listening again to the strange chorus outside.

Then she continued.

“Undead that do possess physical bodies are usually made from the remains of dead animals, magical beasts, or even humans.”

“Against those, light magic and lightning magic are the best choices.”

“Fire comes next.”

“Ice magic can also have some effect.”

“As for the other elements... I’m not really sure.”

She swallowed nervously.

“Undead creatures are extremely rare. Most people can go their entire lives without ever seeing one.”

“Spirit-element attacks could practically be called the natural enemy of all living creatures.”

Kent added thoughtfully,

“As long as your spiritual power is strong enough, you can directly shatter an opponent’s soul. Once the soul is destroyed, it doesn’t matter what kind of creature they are—they’re finished.”

Of course, spirit-element attacks possessed an equally terrifying weakness.

If the target’s spiritual power was strong enough to resist the attack, and the caster failed to destroy the enemy in a single strike, then the one who died might very well be the caster instead.

Worse still, offensive spells of the spirit element were among the rarest spells in existence.

Daphne was right that undead creatures were seldom encountered.

But that did not mean they were harmless.

Quite the opposite.

Whenever undead appeared in large numbers, the result was usually a catastrophe.

Over the continent’s ten thousand years of recorded history, there had once been a terrifying incident caused by the vengeance of an Undead Mage.

At its height, the disaster had produced millions of skeletons.

In the end, the Grand Mages’ Guild had been forced to dispatch twenty Level Nine mages, who joined forces to cast a Forbidden Spell.

Only then were most of the undead destroyed.

Afterward, the Church of Light sent several hundred high-ranking priests.

Working together, they unleashed a light-element Forbidden Spell—

Light of Angels.

Only after that spell descended were the remaining undead completely wiped out.

That was why the appearance of undead on any significant scale was regarded as nothing less than a disaster.

But the situation here was strange.

The kobolds had apparently lived in this region for nearly ten thousand years.

That meant they had most likely discovered this temple long ago.

And judging from how every kobold had vanished from the temple grounds the moment the strange phenomenon began, this clearly was not the first time it had happened.

There had to be some kind of pattern to it.

Thinking of that, Kent relaxed slightly.

If this temple were truly a stronghold of the undead, then he and Daphne would probably have been turned into undead creatures long before now.

“Come on, Daphne.”

Kent tightened his grip on the strange staff.

“Let’s go take a look.”

He wanted to know exactly what secrets this temple was hiding.

Besides, kobolds around Level Six had managed to survive in this area for generations.

That suggested that whatever danger existed inside the temple was not completely unavoidable.

Otherwise, those kobolds would have been turned into undead long ago.

“Kent... do we really have to go?”

Daphne clutched his hand tightly.

After hearing Kent describe the strange condition she had fallen into while asleep, she was already frightened.

Worse still, she now felt an inexplicable chill crawling across her skin.

It was almost as though someone—or something—were standing nearby, silently watching them.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Kent tried to reassure her.

“I’m already Level Three now.”

Then he lowered his voice slightly.

“And there’s another secret I haven’t told you.”

Kent could feel that something was wrong as well.

A persistent instinct told him that he and Daphne were not alone.

Yet no matter how far he extended his spiritual perception, he could not detect anything.

So Kent decided to conduct a small experiment.

“What secret?”

Daphne wrapped both arms tightly around one of Kent’s arms, almost pressing herself completely against him.

She looked up at him nervously.

Kent smiled faintly.

“I’m a light-element mage.”

The moment he said the words, the Illumination spell he had already prepared burst from his hand.

At exactly the same instant, Kent covered Daphne’s eyes with his other hand.

He closed his own eyes as well.

A brilliant flash exploded through the room.

“AAAAAAAH!”

A horrifying scream suddenly rang in both Kent’s and Daphne’s ears.

Yet it did not sound as though it had traveled through the air.

The scream seemed to erupt directly inside their souls.

Then, little by little, it grew fainter—

as though whatever had screamed was rapidly fleeing into the distance.

“A... light-element mage?”

Only after a long moment did Daphne slowly open her eyes.

She stared at the glowing orb of light floating above Kent’s head.

Then she looked back at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“This... it cut the mana consumption in half, and the effect is several times stronger!”

Kent stared at the Illumination spell in disbelief.

The light was several times brighter than when he had cast the same spell before.

There were two reasons for that.

First, Kent had advanced in level.

Second—and far more importantly—he had cast the spell while holding the mysterious staff in his other hand.

Kent carefully recalled the amount of mana he had just used.

Compared with the Illumination spells he had cast as a Level Two Mage, the mana consumption had fallen by a full fifty percent.

Fifty percent.

Kent was almost too stunned to process what that meant.

The most famous mana-saving divine staff on the entire continent was the Hand of the Angel, a sacred artifact belonging to the Church of Light and widely regarded as one of the greatest magical treasures in existence.

Yet even the Hand of the Angel could only reduce mana consumption by around thirty percent.

This staff had reduced his by half.

What did a fifty-percent reduction actually mean?

Under normal circumstances, a mage might only barely possess enough mana to cast a Forbidden Spell after reaching Level Eight.

But with this staff, Kent might be able to cast one while still at Level Seven.

Naturally, a Forbidden Spell released by a Level Seven Mage would not be as powerful as one cast by a true Level Eight Mage.

But that was not the whole story.

The staff did not merely reduce mana consumption.

It also amplified the power of the spell itself.

One effect reduced the cost.

The other increased the power.

Combined, the result was astonishing.

And if there was one thing Kent was not lacking, it was mana.

The amount of magical power stored throughout his physical body was already several times greater than the mana contained within the Mana Source in his mind.

More importantly, if he could ever gain complete control over that strange current of energy beneath his feet—summoning it whenever he wished and stopping it whenever he chose—then his mana reserves could practically become inexhaustible.

As for whether the staff also reduced the consumption of spiritual power...

Kent had no idea.

It was not that such an effect would have been impossible for him to sense.

He simply had not been paying attention to his spiritual-power expenditure at all.

“Ah!”

Daphne suddenly let out a small cry.

Only now did everything she had seen begin to come together in her mind.

Kent could use fire magic.

He could use water magic.

When she had first awakened, he had apparently been using wood-element mana to refine the staff.

And now he had just cast light-element magic as well.

Daphne’s thoughts became hopelessly tangled.

Previously, she had never truly noticed how many different elements Kent could wield.

Whenever he had used Water Ball to gather drinking water, she had usually already been half asleep from exhaustion.

When she woke earlier, all her attention had been focused on Kent’s safety and on the astonishing process of refining the staff.

It was only after seeing him cast Illumination that all those scattered memories finally connected.

Fire.

Water.

Wood.

Light.

And there were probably even more she had not noticed.

The more Daphne thought about it, the more extraordinary Kent seemed.

Her already considerable admiration for him deepened even further.

In her eyes, Kent had become more mysterious—and more incredible—than ever.