Understanding his words, Dhruv found himself lacking in so much knowledge about this world. This made the idea of sending Lucian outside grow more and more.
"Is that soo... which of these do you think first ca... had the thread broken into these points or the threads inside our core is the collection of these points?"
Lucian’s analogy made Dhruv matched it with the question often asked in the earth. Whether the egg ca first or the chicken.
"Personnally i believe that the grains of mana ca first and then it was molded into thread by the core... but we can never be sure with our current knowledge.." Stroking his chin, Lucian muttered.
Seeing him behave like an old sage, Dhruv was perpalxed whatever to believe in his current appearance or not.
’It is better not to believe in it...’ Thinking, he asked, "So the mana is thread... now how to cast it?"
"Now that we have the thread, the thing we need is a needle and the skill Manipulation works as that needle," Lucian explained.
"So, I have to activate the manipulation skill to cast the spell."
Nodding his head, Lucian added, "Not only that, but you also have to imagine that skill as a needle..."
Not wanting his master to learn and understand sothing wrong, Lucian corrected himself, "Well, needle is just an analogy... You can imagine anything you want."
"Okay..."
"Now cos the most important part... the pattern. It is the shape which we weave the mana threads into to cast the spells..." Lucian was talking about this when sothing clicked in Dhruv’s mind.
’Wait a minute... is he talking about these patterns?’ Thinking, Dhruv closed his eyes.
"Are you talking about things we see after closing our eyes?" He asked, to which Lucian nodded his head.
Even on earth, whenever he closes his eyes, these small patterns would appear. But after the evolution, their number increased along with the clarity. He could easily decipher the shape and size of every point and its lines.
"I always thought it increased because i’ve gained clarity becoming a monster... but now you are telling this was the way to cast a spell."
Nodding his head, Lucian gave him a tip, "If you reach out for the patterns... You will understand their uses."
"Reach out... like how?" Dhruv asked, confused.
After thinking for a mont, Lucian explained, "Close your eyes and focus on one of the patterns until the rest of them disappear."
Heading to his words, Dhruv focused on one of the patterns. It looked like several uneven circular threads, all centered around a single core point. There were five small nodes placed along the outer rings, which act like its anchors.
As he focused more on it, the rest of the pattern disappeared. He continued doing it when suddenly sothing clicked inside his head. The information about the spell flooded in.
[Rot Touch: You weave a thin rot thread around your fingers. Anything that you touch begins to decay slowly.]
His eyes widened in surprise as he got to understand the spell. Curious to know more about the spell, Dhruv focused on another pattern.
This pattern ford like a pale green star sealed inside a perfect circular thread. Eight outer anchors surrounded it, each connected by thin mana lines that held the structure steady. At the very center, a black core pulsed, wrapped by a smaller ring of force
[Fester Wound: A spell cast on an open wound. It prevents proper healing and causes pain, swelling, and infection-like symptoms.]
Dhruv was about to check more of the pattern when Lucian’s voice reached him.
"This is just the first step, master. After weaving the spell, you don’t have to fire it imdiately... to create a new spell, you can sow multiple spells all together. Or to increase the effectiveness, you can make the thread stronger by compressing it."
Lucian was about to explain advance form of spell casting when Dhruv stopped him.
"Hold your horses there, boy... let first cast a normal spell before going into all these complex things..."
After talking so more about things that he has to keep in mind, Dhruv left Lucian in the armory for him to choose his new outfit, and he moved to the throne room.
’Let’s get started...’ Sitting on the throne, Dhruv closes his eyes and tries the first step—Imagining the manipulation as a needle.
’Needle..." Blurting out, he activated the Rot Manipulation and imagined it taking the form of a needle.
Slowly, the image of a thin needle ford inside his mind. But the mont he tried to hold it, the image trembled and disappeared like smoke.
’I’m moving too quickly...’ Understanding the problem, Dhruv took a deep breath and cald himself down.
The needle ford as he slowly moved his will. This ti, he got a little bit closer, but it ultimately disappeared. again.
’One more try...’ Growing, he tried again, but the failure was all he got his hand on.
’Not gonna give you up...’ Frowning, he tried multiple tis, and on the fifth try, he caught the needle, but it only stayed for a breath long before breaking apart.
7th try... 8th... 10th... 19th...
Only after the twentieth try did he touch the needle without it vanishing. And even after that, moving it was another problem.
The mont Dhruv pushed it forward, the needle would either bend, shake, and scattered like a gust of wind.
’Calm Dhruv.. Calm down... take it slowly...’ Taking a deep, cold breath, Dhruv forced himself to calm down and decided to take a different approach.
Instead of grabbing the needle roughly, he imagined holding it gently this ti. He treated it like a fragile thread between his fingers.
As if moved by his conviction, the needle beca clearer. It grew sharper, and its tip began to stop shaking. Only after feeling that it had beco sowhat solid did Dhruv try to move it.
Not wanting to waste this opportunity, Dhruv moved the needle barely at first. Seeing that it maintained its shape, he slowly raised the speed.
’Finally...’ A tired sigh left his mouth as he completed the first step of many to co.
"Now I can cast the spell..." Being optimistic, Dhruv moved to the next step in his journey of spellcasting.
Only after trying for half an hour did he understand what he had signed up for.
***
Knock! Knock!!
Hearing soone knocking on the door, the old lady moved out of her bed and began moving toward the door.
’Is it, Michael...’ Anticipating the face of her grandson, she opened the door.
"Yes?" Seeing an unknown face, she asked for his purpose.
"Hello...ma’am, are you perhaps Mijrat K Gulhar?"
"Yes... How can I help you?" She asked the man.
Presenting a letter to her, he added, "This is a letter from Michael."
"Ohh!..." Taking the letter from him, she signed off the paperwork and went to her room.
’Did he go sowhere without eting ... let him co, I will give such an earful that he would bleed his ear out..." Muttering these words, she opened the letter.
Inside the letter was another envelope. A warning of sorts was written on top of the envelope.
"Do not open the letter until a week after receiving it..." She read as a bad feeling began to rise inside her chest.
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