Chapter 61: Fragments of Ambition

[Yuna: Is there anyone planning to attend the auction in the city this time?
I need something, and if there’s anyone interested in making a joint purchase, we can pool points and buy it together.]

[Hao: A joint purchase? What are you planning to buy?]

[Yuna: I heard that a hundred-year-old Ice Crystal from Professor Uran’s tower will be put up for auction this time.]

[Hao: Wow, a hundred years old? That must be really expensive.]

[Yuna: Yes, that’s why I want to set the contribution ratio based on points.]

[Hao: I don’t have enough points, but good luck!]

[Yuna: Thank you.]

[Yuna: If anyone is interested, please contact me through my Mirror Bug.]

***

‘What does a perfect doll look like?’

The dolls I made all went through almost identical manufacturing processes.

I would always start by carving wood.

Wood was the material I was most familiar with, so most of my dolls had wooden bodies.

Crafting the body required considerable effort.

It was the most important part of a doll, so I always chose the material with utmost care.

After selecting the wood, I would carefully carve it.

Observing its natural grain, I would shape it to bring out the form that best suited its internal structure.

Sometimes it would become the doll’s arm, sometimes its head, or even its inner organs.

I had learned this process on an island.

It was a memory from years ago, though I couldn’t remember exactly how many.

The old man who taught me must be dead by now.

He was nothing more than a weed that failed to awaken its magic.

I felt a tinge of regret for the fleetingness of his life.

His skills and talent were gone, but at least they lived on through me.

What I had previously only vaguely understood blossomed into clarity, like shadows forming a distinct self.

I could now fully grasp the meaning of his teachings.

So, I followed the natural flow of the wood grain to draw out the shape within it—just as the old man had taught me.

But I didn’t stop there.

I refined that flow further, guiding it toward the direction I desired.

Enhancing the material’s properties, I created a better grain that suited its purpose.

Thus, I crafted the doll’s components and assembled them.

That’s how a doll came to life.

Next came the task of filling its core.

The materials used for this varied.

Sometimes it was wood, sometimes something else entirely.

These were like the doll’s organs.

They facilitated the smooth flow of magic and provided various functionalities.

They compensated for what wood alone couldn’t achieve.

This was the basic structure I used to create dolls, and the one I was following for the doll I was working on now.

Slowly, I invoked magic.

The doll responded, connecting to my senses.

It drew a sword with a smooth motion, and magic began to pool within it.

The doll was modeled after Cassian.

I had painstakingly recreated every aspect of her, from her appearance to her physique, down to the smallest detail.

This was my latest experiment in doll-making.

If only I could imbue it with a sense of self, it would be perfect.

But I lacked the proper wooden core, which left me frustrated.

Among the dolls I already had, the strongest and most complete was the Turtle.

It was my means of transport, my defense system, and my fortress.

It excelled in its role.

When I created the Turtle, I focused solely on defense.

Its thick shell and body were imbued entirely with defensive magic.

Defensive magic suited me quite well, so I coated its entire body with it.

That made it the most formidable in terms of defense among my dolls.

And the materials used for its construction? They were among the most expensive I had ever gathered.

Its shell alone contained almost all of my most precious resources—except for the Wraithwood, which came later.

Over time, its sturdy shell grew strong enough to withstand any battle.

Even I couldn’t scratch it.

The reason I invested so much into it was purely for survival in my classes.

The greatest danger I faced since coming to the academy had been the monsters encountered during lessons.

Thus, the Turtle could only endure.

Its only attack was to crush enemies with its overwhelming mass.

Against small monsters, that was enough.

But it wasn’t suitable for fighting magicians.

To a magician, the Turtle was nothing more than a bulky, tough target—a cumbersome obstacle at best.

That’s why I needed a doll designed purely for offense, one capable of confronting magicians.

I manipulated the magic delicately.

The doll’s eyes opened.

The magic imbued in its sword began to surge explosively.

The doll raised its sword and swung it in a straight line.

In an instant, the doll exploded.

It all happened so quickly.

Fortunately, the prepared defensive barrier blocked the fragments.

“Still no good,” I muttered, staring at the shattered doll.

It had captured Cassian’s essence remarkably well—her flow of magic, her swordsmanship, even her spells.

But it couldn’t withstand a single swing.

I sifted through the debris, examining the circuits within the remnants.

I let out a bitter laugh.

I had made numerous modifications, but the output was still insufficient.

My dolls operated based on a magical core, which was rooted in my own wood.

Even after transforming its shape, it fundamentally resembled me.

That was unavoidable, as I understood this material better than any other.

As a result, its output also mirrored mine: weak.

Its strength lay in versatility, spreading thin and wide to accommodate multiple forms of magic.

But this became a glaring weakness when trying to specialize in one direction.

I needed a solution.

In truth, I already knew the answer.

‘To replicate the target perfectly, I must craft its body entirely as a doll. A magician’s corpse is always a good material for such work.’

‘If I could use another magician’s body, tame the individual’s unique wood within it, and make it the doll’s core, this problem could be resolved.’

‘I could fully harness the output the magician once possessed. I had done this a few times before—back when I lived in the slums.’

‘In those days, magicians were often found lying around. Many came there, clinging to dreams of entering the academy. In such a place, obtaining a magician’s corpse was a matter of having the funds.’

‘Dolls made from such materials boasted superior output compared to those crafted purely from wood. But there was an issue.’

‘Each one consumed far too much of my magic, and back then, their utility was questionable. What good was high output if my offensive spells were ineffective?’

I didn’t have the magic to imbue them with, nor did I know the spells the corpses once wielded.

Things were different now.

To me, a magician’s corpse was as valuable as a treasure.

I no longer needed to rely on my magic; I could imbue it with someone else’s.

And I now had a way to address the energy cost.

But this was the academy.

There was no way to acquire corpses here.

‘If I could obtain the body of a powerful magician and tame it into my doll, my current frustrations would disappear. But such an opportunity wasn’t available, and that left me feeling regretful.’

So, I had to resort to an alternative: using monster corpses.

When I used the brain of the Wraithwood tree last time, I realized something.

The core parts of a powerful monster could function just like a magician’s wood.

The doll I made with the Wraithwood as a base didn’t possess a will of its own, but it retained the traits and strength of the original material.

I glanced at the orb the Turtle was playing with.

It was something Zero had tossed to it.

The Turtle rolled on the floor with the orb clamped in its mouth.

The creature seemed to like the fake wood.

Holding it in its mouth allowed it to absorb information from both the real world and the shadow woods.

The orb, meanwhile, remained perfectly intact, even in the Turtle’s mouth.

Inspired by this, I tried incorporating a monster’s heart into my latest project, but it couldn’t withstand the strain and burst apart.

It seemed cheap materials wouldn’t do.

I needed the corpse of a stronger monster.

And I knew just the place to find one.

I checked my Mirror Bug.

It was time to move.

“Alright, I’ll be back. Take care of things here while I’m gone,” I told Zero.

The doll nodded, and I stepped out of the workshop.

Eyes gleaming with determination, I thought, ‘This time, I will succeed.’

With that resolve, I headed upstairs.

And once again, I was thrown out after being hit.

“Get lost!”

Clutching my head, I tumbled down the stairs.

My whole body ached with a stinging pain.

This marked my thirtieth failure.

Rising to my feet and brushing myself off, I muttered, “I really thought this time would be different.”

For today’s lunch, I had done my best to prepare an exquisite meal for the professor, paying particular attention to the meat.

I had used three Storm Squirrels, each worth five hundred points, capturing them alive to ensure maximum freshness.

After processing them to perfection and using every possible cooking technique, I presented the dish to the professor, who ate it with an unusually satisfied expression.

Seizing the moment, I cautiously asked if I could take just one treasure from the vault.

And here I was, rolling on the ground.

Today made it clear: this was hopeless.

‘If I pushed any further, I might actually die.’

The professor’s obsession with their treasures ran deeper than I’d anticipated.

At this point, it seemed easier to resolve the issue they had asked for help with last time.

Swallowing my disappointment, I thought about the professor’s treasures.

Most of them were the essence of powerful monsters, far surpassing even the Wraithwood in strength.

‘If I could craft a doll using one of those as a base, it would undoubtedly result in an extraordinary creation. For an entire month, I had pleaded with the professor because I wanted that power so badly, but it was all in vain.’

“Looks like I have no choice but to go there.”

I pulled out a piece of paper from my pocket.

Written on it were the words “Upper Auction House Entry Pass,” radiating faint magical energy.

Miryeong had sent it, along with a message saying, “If there’s something you want, I’ll even lend you points. Let’s keep working together.”

After some research, I learned that this auction was a special event unique to the Stalactite City, held once every twenty years.

It featured a collection of rare items gathered by the Arcana Trading Company.

The Upper Auction House, however, required this pass for entry; even points wouldn’t grant access otherwise.

I let out a bitter laugh.

Originally, I hadn’t planned to attend the auction.

To be honest, I wasn’t ready to face them yet.

But I had no other options now.

If I went there, I might find the materials I needed for my doll.

I examined the entry pass carefully.

The auction was set to begin in two weeks.

“Alright, let’s give it a shot. Just looking around won’t hurt.”

Even so, the thought of facing Miryeong again made my stomach churn.