ALL NOVEL Chapter-16 Starting Line
Ewan picked the final book with the white hardcover and flipped through it. His Pa mentioned a spell he created with his grandpa’s idea and framework; his expectations bubbled with those words.
But when he finished the introduction part of the book, his face soured.
He rubbed his forehead and took deep breaths, and double checked to confirm he’d read right. He went back and reread the introductions, and the same words, the same content, repeated. His heart raced, and his heaves parched his throat; it itched when he gulped, and his rushing blood rang his ears. His Pa and his grandpa had created an outrageous spell, and he had no idea how they did it. This was the work of two geniuses, but he couldn’t praise them, for they left the hot potato to him.
If he exercised caution with it though, it would be a huge help, he iterated in his head. Yes, he just needed to hide it well…
<Transmute>, a non-elemental spell like <Identify> and <Contract>; it required no Anima, and Ewan could use it with his ‘Spirit’ alone. But its enormous value lay in its effect.
The spell could create anything by guzzling other equivalent items. At worst, it could become a way to earn profits through selling an expensive item made from sacrificing cheaper items. And at best, it would give him unlimited access to rare finds…
Thinking of what might happen if someone knew of it, his heart skipped beats, and he sweated.
Erring on the side of caution, he shut the book tight. He first put the dozed off Orange to bed then hurried down to the basement. After he closed the door and confirmed the security of the place, checking the latch several times, he sat by the table. And with the book on his knees, he continued where he left off.
The main point of the spell was equivalency, quality and quantity wise. A piece of stone couldn’t create Crelith, no matter how many he used. There was a minimum requirement for the quality with respect to the desired item. If he fulfilled that, Ewan could use the quantity and get whatever item he wanted.
The sacrificed items would also bear the burden of the spell, so its ‘Spirit’ requirement was low. The ‘low’ mentioned in the book was from the standard of his grandpa and his Pa though, the minimum ‘Spirit’ needed far surpassed his current state. But it was only a matter of time. Till then, he could practice tracing the spell circuit; it was quite complex after all, much more than any he’d seen so far.
There was one unknown item left in his claw-ring—the metal dishware. But he left it alone for now. He received too much shock from the books already, it made him uneasy. Regardless of how precious the item was, he couldn’t pay any attention to it. He only wanted to gain some strength right now, he was naked without any ability to protect himself.
So, the next task was forming contracts with the Astylinds.
He only wanted to contract Orange before and leave the other three alone for now. His urgent need for money was over, but he didn’t have enough to sustain that many lives. He wanted to wait till his birthday and contract them once he received his inheritance. But the situation changed his decision. He didn’t want to wait; he couldn’t afford to wait. At most, he could become thrifty and stingy with his daily expenses—he wouldn’t eat out anymore.
…..
Late evening, in the hall.
Ewan sat cross-legged on the wooden floor and had Orange sit in front of him, and the Obsidian Dagger was out and ready in his bandaged hand. A few deep breaths eased the butterflies in his stomach, and he traced the <Contract> spell in his soul space—his strokes were snail-paced but steady as he aimed for perfection. His lines left no mistakes behind, they carried the essence of a textbook example, and once he reached the final part, he slit his right wrist with the dagger, wincing from the sharp pain. After one smooth strike, as the blade bit his skin and flesh, blood spluttered from his cut and streamed down to the floor, pooling into a blood-red puddle.
The only downside of his family’s <Contract> spell—it needed a lot of blood. For that hundred percent success rate though, to prevent the Astylind’s subconscious resistance, Ewan disregarded the negative.
His face paled and his back trembled—the blood was enough now. He gritted his teeth and finished the last stroke of the spell, and as soon as it took effect, the broken skin of his wound glued together, leaving a stain of red. The blood he shed on the floor hovered up, and all the droplets formed a vague shape of the <Contract> spell circuit in the air. And after flashing with a blood-tint, it turned into mist threads and cocooned Orange.
Rays of red sunlight poured in through the window as the hall became ghost quiet. Tiny dust particles floated in those pillars of light; the broken showerhead leaked in the bathroom; the intermittent fall of the droplets echoed in the hushed hall.
Ewan had his eyes closed while the blood mist enveloped Orange—both sides made no moves.
Seconds passed, and the blood cocoon thinned a little. At the same time, a thread of thought connected to his soul; it was faint but noticeable. There was no resistance, the cocoon thinned more, and the connection became stronger. Thread by thread, the blood cocoon dissolved.
The contract burned a part of his soul essence. And since nothing supported his soul, a sense of breathlessness and emptiness engulfed him. He gasped for air, struggled to sit straight, but the next instant, his spine tingled, and a comforting strength bubbled inside him. It nurtured him, nourished him; it washed away all the negative impact on his soul.
A feeble mind also connected to him, and it wasn’t just a mere thread of thought anymore—it was Orange in his entirety. The little monkey stared at him with his head tilted to the side. Ewan sensed his confusion but gave no explanation; he couldn’t understand anyway. He only relished his success for he finally contracted his first Astylind. Their connection was at its weakest right now, but it would strengthen over time.
His soul space went through some changes as well—an orange-colored rune shaped like an upside down ‘V’ appeared in it. It carried a metallic sheen and emanated the feeling of Flamecrest at its peak, those torrid and sweaty afternoons. After it formed, some warm orange particles manifested around him. He couldn’t see them but could only feel them up to a certain range. They drifted about in the hall; some entered his body, while most went to Orange. His new rune absorbed all that came to him and glowed with a gentle orange halo.
This was his Fire-Element Rune, it provided him with a Recipient-level affinity. And the particles around him were Fire-Anima, they proved his ability to cast fire spells. Though he only stood at the starting line, he was a proper Severynth from this moment on, he was one of the Ashevas—the Eternals.