Dawn had broken through the clouds as a sudden pulse of energy rippled through the garden, its resonance humming like the strings of an unseen instrunt. The delicate leaves quivered in response, while the small flowers seed to shimr, absorbing the newfound vitality.
Though the secluded spot where Moulin worked with the mindforge remained bathed in soft shadow, the crystals surrounding him shone brilliantly, their many hues flickering like distant stars. They danced and glimred in harmony, tugging at Moulin's mana, drawing it into their swirling ring of power.
Moulin stood with his palm outstretched, eyes closed in deep concentration. A cool breeze whispered through the air, playfully teasing the silvery strands of his hair, giving him the ethereal appearance of a siren beneath the amber hues of the sky. His back is straight there was not even the faintest tremble on his fingertips.
The snowflake formation grew slowly but in the next second, all his efforts were for naught when it abruptly shattered and dissipated. The youth opened his eyes and sighed, watching as the last wisps of his mana disintegrated. Honestly, after ten tries he wasn't even too disappointed. Yet all he could do was go once more.
Moulin's eyes narrowed considerably.
If it wasn't for that strange dream, he wouldn't be too distracted today. With his hands on his waist, he raised his gaze to the glass do and sighed. That was now the second ti he dreamt about the lake. Dreams weren't too random but in this world, they could an sothing. But what exactly was it telling him?
"It is too early to be distracted."
A voice spoke abruptly snapping the youth from his thoughts. He turned and saw Na'El ambling towards him garbed in elegant clothing. His heterochromatic eyes were as calm as his gait.
"I..." Moulin hesitated to answer. In the end, he shook off the thoughts in his head and turned away. He already thinking too much. "My efforts have disappointed . I thought of starting early while my mind is not yet occupied and I have also about chanting a mantra as you have advised."
Na'El only smiled and nodded. "It's a sign of good discipline to start early. I'm pleased to see you're putting in the effort and working hard."
He spoke as though he noticed nothing which made Moulin quite relieved for unknown reasons. Perhaps, he didn't want to disclose his sleeping troubles just yet.
The two continued with their sessions for a few hours and then enjoyed a light breakfast together before Moulin parted ways with the elven oracle. Carrying the book of Orchaedia in his arm and a certain furball in his other arm, Moulin journeyed through the halls and quietly arrived in the library.
The scent of old wood and pages relaxed his nerves. He made his way to the desk and gently brought down Snow, who was already fast asleep after a full stomach, onto the cushion on the table. Moulin helplessly chuckled before sitting down, glancing at the box of stone artifacts on his left. The excitent of experinting had already died down, and now he was unsatisfied with his progress.
'I need to learn more.'
Determined, Moulin took a breath before he dived into his studies, taking out a plain notebook and writing down notes.
As the sunlight bead through the windows, the silver-eyed young maeruthan flipped the delicate pages of the large book every few minutes and traced interesting sigils and runes that ranged from the simplest functions such as repairing broken wood to the most complex ones like creating an unbreakable barrier.
All great artifacts relied on intricate sigils and complex enchantnts. The simplest types include more comprehensible graphical representations that state their functions easily. But what piqued Moulin's interest were the more difficult ones that would even involve complex enchantnts and rare materials. Most of them were used in offensive magic.
Ones that were difficult to reverse or even irreversible. Such were the dangers of magic...
Moulin, in deep thought, leaned back and tapped his pencil on his notebook. He didn't know many helpful artifacts to aid the common people and the soldiers during these difficult tis. Mainly, because the scent of magic was like a drug to the bottomless bellies of malibreeds. Even barriers were always subjected to the ferocious wrath of these grotesque creatures.
Thus, pathfinders were always forbidden to use their magic as much as they could and should do everything to suppress the aura of their mana. Otherwise, they would be the main course for all Malibreeds within their proximity.
Thinking about this, Moulin paused.
Hadrian was going to be sent on expeditions for who knows how long. Though they lauded the new order as sothing grand and unbreakable, who could truly guarantee such claims?
Worry filled the youth's heart as he turned to glance at the windows. As if he could, see through the realm's barrier and witness Hadrian's figure.
...
If it was possible, Moulin wished there was sothing that could be used to overweight the malibreed's attraction to mana into fear. Purifying magic didn't seem enough.
"..." Moulin stopped. He looked down and glanced at his hand, which was white, blessed, and artificial, and surging with his mana. It lay on the yellowish pages filled with a strange description.
Crystal Reservoirs.
'What if it was my mana?...' Moulin blinked.
Creak!
The youth jumped in his seat. His heart pounded as he turned to witness Lady Calanthe entering the room with a calm expression. The old woman tilted her head, witnessing Moulin's surprised look.
"Did I interrupt sothing?"
"Uh... no. My Lady." Moulin fixed his expression with a sigh.
Lady Calanthe smiled as she approached and took the empty seat beside Moulin. The youth greeted her properly this ti and was rewarded with the sorceress's praises. Snow barely moved from his spot. His furry ears only twitched once when he heard her arrival.
Lady Calanthe and Moulin began their session. The youth remained determined to learn and even more enthusiastic than before which made the sorceress curious. He did not hesitate to ask questions and was asking more than he normally did.
"There are many types of sigils. So of the most common ones are protective sigils, control sigils, and other purpose-specific sigils. They act as conduits or triggers for a specific magical effect." Calanthe took one of the stone artifacts Moulin made, showing him the runes he had inscribed himself. "I'm sure you are aware that these do not store energy by itself.
A sigil's energy is drawn from the user, the environnt, or an external power source."
"Then it is possible for a sigil to function on a reservoir. To enable it to replenish its energy?" The youth asked. His silver eyes are bright and inquisitive. The answer he needed was barely within his reach.
"That is correct." The sorceress nodded. "However, the function must include energy replenishing specific functions. Such as drawing from the energy of Corhan's land."
"But the land is corrupted and its magic is being consud by the Kron and its offspring. Harnessing the land's magic to bring forth dark miasma to strengthen malibreeds."
Lady Calanthe paused. Her eyes turned deep as she watched the focused look on the young man's beautiful face. Moulin looked down at the open book and the scattered stones on the table surface.
Silver eyes suddenly narrowed. "What if there was a way to utilize the miasma and the sickness? To use it to feed a reservoir to supply purification magic?"
Lady Calanthe's eyes darkened slightly. "That is not possible."
Hearing the cold tone of her voice, the youth blinked in surprise. It was the first ti he had witnessed such a dark expression on the sorceress's face. "It is not?... However, most of the energy within Corhan is miasma. There is no energy more significant and plentiful anymore-"
"Purifying magic cannot be born from darkness, young master." Lady Calanthe spoke expressionlessly while she poured herself a cup of tea. "If it was, such magic would fail to cleanse. It is an extrely rare magic not anyone could possess. Even temple priests, priestesses, seers, and oracles cannot wield them. It is simply the luck of a soul. It is only born not created.
Therefore, it is impossible."
Moulin slowly lowered his head once the last of her words ended. Silence sank between them. Lady Calanthe did not an to shoot down his ideas but not all things were ant to be possible. Just as she was about to open her mouth and change the subject, Moulin suddenly spoke.
"You said the magic can only be born from pured internal souls." Moulin began. When he saw Lady Calanthe nod, he continued. "But I was not born pured. I was never a pured maeruthan born with purifying magic."
Lady Calanthe's brows furrowed in confusion. "Although you have escaped death twice, your soul remains the sa."
Moulin shook his head. His heart thundered and he felt cold sweat down his back when he thought what he was about to do. It seems there were so things that could escape the eye of a well-known spiritual sorceress. Moulin opened his palm towards her.
Tilting her head, Lady Calanthe reached out and took his hand. The mont their fingers touched. Silver eyes glowed faintly. A green glaze of Galadin's magic seeped from his blessed soul, baring a few of his earliest mories in the world to the woman before him.
It all happened in only a few seconds, the sorceress's eyes widened sharply, and abruptly withdrew her hand. Shock filled her eyes when the knowledge sank. What in the world did she just see?
The disbelief in her expression made Moulin brace himself.
But when the expected reactions didn't co, Moulin took advantage of the opportunity and quickly spoke. "I may possess a divine internal soul but I was brought from a devil's summon.
If they are capable of such a ritual that could pluck out pured souls from other worlds for their demonic God's rebirth, then I do not see why we are restricted to do any ans to keep what's left of the life in this world."
Moulin swallowed, "Morhas was not a failed god. The gods failed him. He was ant to deliver but he chose to save instead. A half-devil god was even capable of that. It may seem incongruous, but perhaps this divine mana, despite its origins, can be harnessed in unorthodox ways to achieve our goals. It remains an enigma, distinct from any other form of energy currently found in Corhan.
Lady Calanthe listened silently. There was doubt in her eyes as she looked at Moulin. The youth was not used to the way she was looking at him right now. The calm, smiling lady before vanished in an instant, and the silence was deafening.
Moulin hesitantly continued "If there was a way to absorb the miasma and use it to refuel purifying reservoirs-"
"There is a way..." Lady Calanthe spoke. Her voice is lower and there was helplessness in her tone. Finally, she t Moulin's silver eyes. From the mont she t the youth, she did not sense the faintest sense of malevolence from him. He was pure and determined to save the land and help the people.
She hoped she was not wrong...
Before those bright eyes, she conjured a small barrier spell blocking any escaping mana and presence. And on her open palm, a dark red fla bursts into existence revealing a black scroll sealed with a bloodied silver rope. Harsh energy emanated from the scroll, filling every space within the barrier. It exuded a deathly aura almost choking Moulin.
Moulin's eyes widened.
Lady Calanthe gazed at the scroll in her hand. "This is a forbidden magic art taken from the Veialean Temples. One to use purified mana as sustenance for their dark magic reservoirs."
The youth stared deeply at the intimidating scroll, feeling the pressure of its aura around him.
The sorceress raised her gaze. This ti there was a sense of softness.
"If you truly give your heart for the lives of this world, then I shall help you."
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