That night, after finishing her meditation, Hill once again came to the rooftop of her apartment. She used her blood to condense the shape of the Mark and prayed to the Goddess.
As it turned out, the Goddess was generous and magnanimous.
Tonight’s prayer earned Hill a reward even greater than she’d imagined—the experience granted had doubled to 10 points!
Who says the Night Goddess has a strange, capricious temperament?
After finishing her prayer, Hill only wanted to give a good slap to each of those who dared speak ill of Her Grace!
A wealthy and generous goddess like this—where else could you ever find one, even if you searched with a lantern? Those nuns and clerics of the Church of Holy Light, who kneel every day before their goddess’s idol in prayer, only receive the tiniest sliver of favor. Only those who step onto the path of [Knight], and swear fealty before the Goddess, can be granted additional strength and become a Judgement Knight, a force belonging solely to the Church.
But that was another matter. Having come into this unexpected windfall, Hill returned to her apartment in high spirits, sat at her desk, and began flipping through the manuscript that Teacher Inks had given her. Though she had the ability to see in the dark, she still lit a precious candle by her desk—of course, it was partly for ceremony, a show of respect for magic and knowledge.
The manuscript contained much knowledge not recorded in any textbook, especially certain theories about magic circles. Inks’s insights were completely different from what was written in the books, and naturally unlike anything he’d ever taught in class. This proud mage had never been one to impart all he knew to those students in the classroom who had nothing to do with him.
So, in class, he only repeated the textbook, like a parrot. At most… he would translate the obscure passages into something slightly easier to understand, but fundamentally there was little difference.
Hill read with rapt attention, utterly immersed in the world of magic, unable to tear herself away. She didn’t even notice when the candle beside her burned down to nothing.
The candle-making in this world was still rudimentary—a single candle burned out in just an hour or two, melting into a pool of greasy wax with a strange smell of animal fat. Hill didn’t care. Not until five in the morning did she finish reading the entire manuscript.
Of course, she had only skimmed it; most of the emotional content had left an impression in her mind, and she would need to spend time later delving into it and experimenting, bit by bit.
Truth be told, with the experience provided in this manuscript, Hill felt she should be able to cast several simple Tier-1 spells now.
She chose an extremely simple Tier-1 spell called the Light Spell.
This spell was the first hurdle every magic apprentice in the world had to overcome. Once you understood it, the rest of the similarly difficult spells would come much more easily.
There were three steps to casting a spell: First, construct the magic circle in your mind—this determined the spell’s type, form, and scale.
Second, chant the magic incantation. This was the key to the spell’s formation—if interrupted, the spell would fail.
Third, unleash the magic circle. All spells are projected into the material world via the circle. The moment the magic circle is formed, casting succeeds. From there, the mage simply needs to aim, then cast.
Hill’s mind swiftly processed the Light Spell’s runes, arranging them as if commanding troops to form the basic shape of the magic circle. Then her rosy lips parted slightly, and she chanted the complex, arcane incantation in a low voice—not a single syllable out of place.
Finally…
Magic gathered at her fingertips, rapidly forming the magic circle she pictured in her mind. Each rune, each logical connection—perfect!
The [Transcendent Magic] bestowed by the Goddess truly lived up to the word “transcendent.”
Hill had tried casting spells before, but her foundation had always been too shaky, so she’d mostly failed. On the rare occasions she succeeded, the runes in the magic circle came out crooked; even if she still had mana and mental strength left, a simple Light Spell would only last a few seconds.
But now, a dazzling beam of light blazed forth in the tiny apartment room, brighter than the magical lamps favored by noble lords—perhaps even too bright!
Instinctively, Hill closed her eyes, but even through her eyelids, the glare seemed to scorch her eyeballs!
Startled, she hurriedly cut off her mental and magical flow. The brilliant light at her fingertip faded and disappeared. In the air, scattered mana particles floated down like goddess’s flower petals, drifting all around the room, marking the spot as one where magic had just been cast.
Recalling the scene, Hill’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d used some of Teacher Inks’s techniques, trying to add a little something to the magic circle. It was a variant of the Light Spell—an unexpected effect.
Not only had the brightness increased, it even gave off heat.
As a bloodline who hated sunlight, Hill almost felt for a moment as if she’d been dragged under a blazing forty-degree sun, but it faded as soon as she cancelled the spell. This was normal; after all, it was her first try. She could always improve the magic circle later.
“But then again, why did that scene feel so familiar?”
Hill rubbed her delicate chin, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she slapped her forehead, a look of realization on her face.
“No wonder it felt familiar! Isn’t this just like those flashbang grenades I used to throw?”
In her previous life, being unsociable and withdrawn, her remaining energy naturally went into novels and games. Even in broad daylight, taking a direct hit from a flashbang—that blinding sensation was something Hill remembered all too well.
But in other words, in this world of swords and magic, couldn’t she use spells to achieve the effects of modern heat weapons?
That was a great idea…
She was a weak, helpless bloodline—if her identity was ever exposed, there were only two fates waiting for her: either get a silver bullet from the sheriff through the brain and heart, or be burned alive on the Church of Holy Light’s pyre!
Having been given a second life, she naturally didn’t want to die so carelessly.
Now she had the gifts of the Goddess and a chance to become a mage’s apprentice—she needed to think of every possible way to arm herself.
After all, the [Night’s Blessing] skill only worked at night.
Real danger didn’t care for day or night, or friend or foe.
That Pro Max version of the Light Spell definitely deserved more research, but there were still several problems:
If she used it in her hand, she’d hurt herself along with her enemy, and the area of effect wouldn’t be large. Unless she prepared the magic circle ahead of time and set it to detonate. Otherwise, she needed to think about how to cast it remotely.
And for Transcendents, their bodies could take a lot of punishment—no matter how much she increased the Light Spell’s heat, it would only burn ordinary people; for Transcendents, the effect would be minimal, not worth the trouble.
The ideal effect would be a remote-cast spell that could make everyone caught off guard lose their sight for at least a full minute—maybe even go blind!
That would at least give Hill a chance to escape.
Yes, the first spell Hill wanted to develop wasn’t some mighty attack—it was for running away, for self-preservation.
There were still two hours until school. Hill felt no drowsiness now—she had no intention of sleeping. Instead, she pulled a sheet of draft paper from her drawer and began enthusiastically sketching out her own Light Spell Pro Max.
Oh, but shouldn’t this spell have a better name?
Never mind, she’d think of one when she finally completed it.