Chapter 404 - 393: A Child Holding Gold
「Several days later.」
Prince William personally led a group of men to deliver three hundred and seventy-two scrolls made of Magical Beast Hide to Allen.
"Lord Weisren, these are all the books on Spirit Art research from the Aiselan Royal Capital."
William bowed, his expression solemn and proud. "From the handwritten notes of the first king to the research findings of every Spirit Art academy headmaster throughout history, it’s all here."
In his eyes, this was the kingdom’s most precious treasure, the very foundation of Aiselan civilization.
Allen glanced at the large cart of documents and nodded.
"Thank you for your hard work."
William grinned, not holding back. "Lord Weisren, if I may be so bold, to you... this is all probably no different from a child’s primer, isn’t it?"
"I have always respected knowledge. These documents will save me a great deal of time."
...
「Inside Cybertron.」
All the documents were stacked neatly on a long table. Jarvis digitized the text, diagrams, and symbols from each scroll, one by one.
Allen didn’t wait for the scanning to finish and had already opened the most crucial one.
An Introduction to Spirit Core Research.
The script was the common language of this plane. Jarvis had completed the linguistic analysis on the first day, so reading it posed no obstacle.
The book stated that the Spirit Core was located next to the heart. About the size of a walnut, it was a natural organ for Aiselans and proof of divine favor.
The Spirit Core could automatically absorb ambient Magic Power from the environment, convert it into Spiritual Energy of a specific attribute within its kernel, and be released at the user’s will.
Allen flipped through the pages quickly, his gaze pausing briefly on key passages.
Storage, conversion, release.
Three clear and distinct stages.
He read on.
The release of Spirit Art didn’t rely on magic models; it was almost a case of "think, and the Spiritual Energy is released."
’Casting magic without a model?’
’Interesting.’
This characteristic reminded him of one of his own technologies.
He continued to look through more of the books.
One book described the classification system for Spirit Art.
Elemental, Reinforcement, Psionic, and Special. There were four main categories with over fifty subtypes, covering the three combat dimensions of offense, defense, and support.
The attribute was determined by the Spirit Core and followed bloodline inheritance.
A child’s Spirit Art type was inherited from one of their parents. Mixed types were extremely rare, and occasionally, a completely new type would appear.
Certain rare types were concentrated in specific families—like the royal family.
The Spirit Cores of the royal family were particularly special. Their quality was far superior to that of commoners, nearly all of them awakened, and their lifespans ranged from two to three hundred years.
Allen paused and pulled up the detailed description of the Spirit Mage ranking system from the documents Jarvis had already scanned.
The five existing ranks of Spirit Mages were determined by the "degree of evolution" of their Spirit Core.
The primary methods of advancement were natural evolution through aging, as well as stimulation from combat and intense emotions.
The advancement process was called "Spirit Core Metamorphosis." During this process, the body would glow and experience intense pain, lasting from several hours to several days.
Allen glanced at the list of the kingdom’s forty-three Level 5 Spirit Mages and found that only twenty-one were offensive types. The rest were scattered among the Reinforcement and Psionic types, capable of only playing support roles in combat.
This meant they had, at most, twenty-one top-tier damage dealers who could go head-to-head with the Heart Eaters on the front lines.
Spread that firepower across a seven-hundred-kilometer defensive line, and you get one every thirty-three kilometers.
’No wonder a hundred thousand people die every year.’
"Jarvis."
[Present, Commander.]
"Run a comparative analysis on the operational mechanics of the Spirit Core and the technical framework of the Incantation Hub."
Three seconds later, two system architecture diagrams appeared side-by-side on the light screen.
On the left was the Incantation Hub, a core technology Allen had spent two years, sixty-three destroyed test armor plates, and nearly several million Low-Level Magic Stones to develop.
Its essence was to compile Witchcraft into executable spell commands for Golems, allowing inanimate objects without a Sea of Spirit to have the ability to "cast magic."
On the right was the Spirit Core, a natural organ that grew next to the heart.
It automatically absorbed Magic Power, automatically converted its attribute, and released it at will, requiring no magic models or intervention from the Sea of Spirit.
Jarvis highlighted the overlapping functional areas between the two in red.
Energy Storage Module—corresponding to the Spirit Core’s Magic Power absorption function.
Compilation Module—corresponding to the Spirit Core’s attribute conversion function.
Execution Module—corresponding to the Spirit Core’s will-driven release function.
The overlap was eighty-seven percent.
A technology that had taken him years of research, tens of millions of Magic Stones, and countless failures to create.
And the natives of this plane were born with such a structure inside their bodies.
No education, no Meditation Methods, no cultivation materials, no external investment of any kind was needed.
They simply had to live to puberty for a greater than fifty percent chance of awakening automatically.
’This isn’t just interesting. It’s a little terrifying!’
Allen leaned back slowly in his chair, his right index finger tapping unconsciously on the table.
As a Golem Wizard who integrated production, study, and research, his first instinct was to consider whether he could completely analyze the operational mechanics of the Spirit Core.
If he could draw on the underlying logic of "model-less casting" and reverse-engineer it to optimize the technical framework of the Incantation Hub...
He could develop even more Witchcraft-type Golems.
High-end Golems like Gabriel could also experience a qualitative leap.
’No, not just Golems.’
’If I could figure out the principle behind the Spirit Core’s automatic absorption and conversion of Magic Power, it might have a subversive impact on the cultivation system of Wizards themselves.’
The moment this thought surfaced, Allen’s finger stopped tapping.
’No, something’s not right.’
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
In his mind, Eleanor’s voice was as clear as if it were yesterday.
"Just complete the mission. Sometimes, the less you know, the longer you live."
Allen opened his eyes again, his gaze falling on the comparative analysis report.
He began to re-examine some questions he hadn’t deeply considered before.
The mission was posted anonymously.
The reward was abnormally generous—three hundred Credit Points and thirty thousand Mid-Level Magic Stones per year.
The previous station chief, Maurice, was a Second-level Wizard from the Witchcraft School who specialized in large-scale destructive Witchcraft. He stayed here for five years, and then he died.
Five years.
A Second-level Wizard only lasted five years on this plane.
Maurice was from the Witchcraft School. Although he wasn’t from the Bloodline School, he wasn’t an idiot.
A Wizard who could advance to Level 2 couldn’t possibly live here for five years without noticing the value of the Spirit Core.
Allen’s gaze grew profound.
The essence of the Spirit Core was a natural, self-evolving organ for converting and releasing Magic Power that required no external intervention.
If this information got back to the Wizard circles in Hub City...
What would those Wizards who were at a dead end on their path to advancement do? What about the Alchemy Masters struggling to research artificial Seas of Spirit and Magic Power conversion efficiency?
The answer was self-evident.
Thirty-five million living samples. Twenty million experimental subjects naturally equipped with a "magic organ."
The entire Aiselan Kingdom was like a child walking through a marketplace with a gold ingot.
No, it was more dangerous than that.
This was an entire civilization sitting on the edge of a cliff, hugging a super-goldmine, completely oblivious to their situation.
"Jarvis."
[Present.]
"In the five years Maurice was on this plane, is it possible he transmitted any research information about the Spirit Core to the outside world?"
[Unconfirmed, but based on available information, the deduction is as follows: As a Second-level Wizard, Maurice certainly possessed independent research capabilities.]
[He was stationed here for five years, so his level of contact with the Spirit Art system would not have been shallow. With the knowledge base of the Witchcraft School, it is highly probable that he would have recognized the technical value of the Spirit Core.]
[Supplementary deduction: The mission poster chose to remain "anonymous" and modified the succession requirement to "Alchemy Wizard preferred" after Maurice’s death. This is possibly because an Alchemy Wizard’s sensitivity to natural flesh-and-blood organs like the Spirit Core is far lower than that of other schools.]
’But they were wrong. I, an Alchemy Wizard, just so happen to have a keen interest in bionics, thanks to the pressure from those Black Wizards back in the day.’
Allen’s eyes narrowed.
’Modify the requirements, Alchemy Wizard preferred.’
’It wasn’t because an Alchemy Wizard’s Golem Legion is suitable for positional warfare.’
’Or rather, it wasn’t just for that reason.’
The anonymous mission poster might have known the value of the Spirit Core from the very beginning.
This so-called long-term stationing mission, this so-called defense against a Demon invasion... perhaps it was all a front from the start.
The Heart Eaters were a threat, but the real "treasure" was the humans of this so-called Aiselan Kingdom themselves.
Did Maurice really die of exhaustion while fending off a Beast Tide?
Or... did he discover a secret he wasn’t supposed to, and was then "cleaned up" by the "anonymous mission poster" at the hands of the Heart Eaters?
Allen slowly opened his eyes. His dark pupils were devoid of any ripple, showing only absolute calm.
An anonymous employer, a predecessor who died suddenly, a treasure of a race, a completely isolated continent, a type of Demon that specifically preys on Spirit Cores...
When these elements were combined, they brought an uncomfortable word to his mind.
A pasture!
’If I think of it that way, everything makes sense.’
The waters here were indeed much deeper than he had imagined.
But who was the Shepherd? Why would he hire a Wizard to protect the flock?
The answer was perhaps very simple. The sheep were dying too quickly, and the pasture was about to go into the red.
If that was really the case, then his role as the "sheepdog" wouldn’t be too difficult to play.
He had originally just wanted to peacefully farm Credit Points for thirty years, but now it seemed he had stepped right into the center of a massive vortex.
Allen immediately extinguished any thought of borrowing a few corpses for human experimentation.
’See through it but don’t say it, keep your hands to yourself. It’s best not to touch this "Spirit Core".’