Inheritance Claimed

"Presently, the only task remaining is to secure the inheritance. Bosain, I believe you are deserving of this honor," Leylin exclaimed with enthusiasm, projecting an innocence that masked his unwavering thirst for power.

"Alright, let's get this done!" Bosain's patience was wearing thin; all he desired was to lay his hands on that elusive treasure.

On the study desk, an unassuming black box lay, adorned with intricate patterns resembling sinuous snakes.

Gritting his teeth, Bosain extended his right hand to unveil the contents of the enigmatic box.

The lid of the box creaked open, but it defied Bosain's expectations; nothing occurred.

Inside the box lay a hefty, obsidian tome. The remaining space was filled with opulent scarlet silk.

Bosain picked up the book, and a mechanical noise echoed throughout the room.

"Damn it!" Bosain inspected the box's interior bottom after retrieving the book, and he was left somewhat dumbfounded.

There, after the removal of the black book, was a sentence in the cursive Byron language, etched in blood. 'Inheritor. Since you removed this 'Book of the Giant Serpent,' the entire secret plane will self-destruct within the span of three hourglasses.'

These words stood out in stark contrast.

"Fuck! That's not nearly enough time to accomplish anything here!" Bosain exclaimed, kicking a chair in frustration.

Leylin's thoughts raced. 'What was Great Magus Serholm's true intention?' Three hourglasses' worth of time was sufficient for him to locate an exit and perhaps even harvest some flowers from the garden before departing.

"This isn't right. It's far too easy... Something's amiss," Leylin murmured, his doubts lingering in the air.

"Bosain, may I borrow the book for a moment? I need to verify something," Leylin inquired politely.

"Of course..." Bosain responded but clung to the book for a moment. A subtle exchange of eye signals between them prompted Bosain to finally relinquish the book.

With urgency in his demeanor, Leylin hastily opened the Book of the Giant Serpent.

'Aralis, record every detail without exception. Do not leave anything to chance,' he commanded his trusty A.I.

The tome was impressively hefty, filled with minuscule, cryptic text. To the average person, even reading the book's preface within the allotted three-hourglasses would seem like an insurmountable task.

However, Leylin was not your average individual. He voraciously combed through the Book of the Giant Serpent, his eyes emitting a crimson glow as Aralis diligently captured every piece of information.

In less than half an hourglass' time, Leylin had perused the entire book. Meanwhile, Bosain took advantage of the respite to mend his wounded body and replenish his Mana Energy and Spiritual Force. His expression betrayed deep disappointment; the book appeared utterly worthless to him, devoid of any significant magical resonance. He hoped to find a glowing, mystical grimoire, not an old and dusty encyclopedia.

'Aralis, how's the progress?' Leylin inquired impatiently.

[Information sorting is underway... Deleting irrelevant data and extracting genuine content from the Book of the Giant Serpent... I have procured 667 pages of travel notes, 78 experiment records, 12 rank 1 spell models, and 3 rank 2 spell models.] Aralis efficiently relayed the findings to Leylin's consciousness.

Leylin's frustration was palpable. 'It's not here! There's no mention of a high-grade meditation technique!'

Recalling the intel he had acquired from the vengeful spirit he had extracted from Alfonse's laboratory, Leylin was certain that the Great Magus Serholm had left behind a copy of a high-grade meditation technique. To the average acolyte or even a Rank 1 Magus, such a reward would be considered exceedingly generous. However, without that elusive high-grade meditation technique, Leylin deemed his journey a failure.

His frustration mounting, Leylin contemplated the unthinkable – reducing the temple to rubble before departing in a blaze of fury.

[Doctor, we have a critical situation here!] Aralis urgently exclaimed, alerting Leylin to the unstable energy waves pulsating through the area. [I estimate that this place will collapse upon itself in approximately 15 minutes and 45 seconds, and the countdown has already begun.]

A stream of flashing warnings inundated Leylin's vision as he absorbed the gravity of the situation.

'Initiate a comprehensive scan of the study room,' Leylin mentally commanded, his features hardening with determination.

Bosain's voice cut through the tension, "Leylin, what's going on?" His inquiry was met with silence as Leylin remained fully engrossed in his task.

After five intense minutes, Leylin's expression grew even graver.

'I have approximately six minutes left to search,' he calculated, the urgency of his situation weighing heavily on him. The allure of the high-grade meditation technique was undeniable, but his life held greater value.

His scrutinizing gaze roamed the room, evaluating each item. 'The study desk appears fine... The chair checks out... Perhaps that oil painting?'

Leylin fixed his attention on a suspicious-looking oil painting, featuring only an emblem resembling the Ouroboros symbol, nothing else.

Then, an epiphany struck him. Leylin's eyes widened as he noticed a faint heat source emanating from within his robes. Delving into his clothing, he retrieved a modest yellow bronze ring.

At first glance, the ring seemed unremarkable, even bearing signs of wear and tear, including scratches and rust. Its surface was inscribed with the letter 'K,' presumably representing the emblem of some organization.

'This is... the ring I found alongside the Terrestrial Elves' journal...' Leylin recalled its origins. During his time in Extreme Night City, he had unearthed this ring while scouring the laboratory of the Great Magus Serholm. It had been in the possession of a nameless Magus, discovered within the hidden vault beneath the lab.

Leylin's fingers gently caressed the yellow bronze ring now adorning his finger, an enigmatic piece of a puzzle that might hold the key to his current predicament.

As he approached the oil painting, the ring he wore emanated an escalating heat. Strikingly, the letter 'K' on the painting even emitted a faint glow.

Lower down on the canvas, a section had crumbled away, exposing an empty cavity bearing the same 'K' symbol as the ring.

With precision, Leylin inserted the ring into the void. It seamlessly melded with the painting, and an enigmatic energy surged forth.

Bosain, now fully aware of Leylin's breakthrough in the treasure hunt, silently rose and drew nearer to him.

The runic black snake on the canvas seemed to stir to life, a crimson glint appearing in its eyes. It began a ceaseless chase of its own tail, a dizzying spin within the artwork.

The serpent's rotation intensified, eventually culminating in the formation of a swirling black void.

Within the void emerged a small cabinet, housing a cage wrought from crimson lightning.

Gritting his teeth, Leylin extended his hands toward it, his time running out.

Suddenly, an ancient voice resonated within Leylin's mind.

{You have performed admirably, my heir. However, there remains one last task you must complete before I grant you access to the trial...} The voice echoed. Leylin raised an intrigued eyebrow. {You must rid yourself of that nuisance lurking behind you. I hold no interest in him. Eliminate him, bathe in his blood, and then I shall consider granting you access to the challenge...} The voice threatened.

At that moment, Leylin curled his lips into a sinister smirk, revealing his true form.

"Leylin? What's happening?!" Bosain demanded answers, brandishing his gleaming silver sword once more. But this time, inside that dimly lit chamber, his thirst for knowledge had led him down a perilous path. One he would not escape.

Out of the ether, a violet circle materialized above his head, its arcane symbols glowing with an otherworldly luminescence. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if the very fabric of reality were about to unravel. Bosain's heart raced, and his mind raced even faster, trying to comprehend the nature of the enigmatic sigil.

Before he could react, before his incantations could form on his lips, the unthinkable happened. From that violet sigil emerged a colossal serpent's head, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling intelligence. The serpent's maw opened wide, revealing rows of gleaming fangs, and with a speed that defied comprehension, it struck.

Bosain's world shattered in an instant. The serpent's head tore through his body, rending flesh, bone, and sinew asunder. His brain, entrails, and bones were unceremoniously strewn about the room in a grisly explosion of gore and blood. It was as if a tempest of violence had descended upon him, leaving nothing but carnage in its wake.

Leylin, a witness to this nightmarish spectacle, stood with arms crossed, and a devious grin plastered on his handsome features. He had tolerated enough of Bosain's existance on this journey, and now, he found himself in the path of the crimson deluge, as dictated by the voice's command.

The serpentine apparition descended from the sigil, its stature almost rivaling that of the formidable Black Horall Snake, a creature of legend and dread. It voraciously consumed every last vestige of Bosain's remains, as if it hadn't savored any meat in an eternity. Leylin could only watch with enjoyment as the serpent's head consumed his 'friend', leaving nothing behind but a chilling void.

Then, with the same violet sigil, Leylin promptly dismissed the gruesome spectacle. The room returned to its eerie calmness, the candlelight flickering as if nothing had happened.

That had been one of the two Great Mankestre Snakes Leylin had purloined from Alfonse's laboratory. After nurturing and forging binding pacts with them, a relatively simple task due to their inherent affinity for him, they had become powerful summons, counted among Leylin's trump cards.

"Ah, how unfortunate. I had hoped to savor his slow and agonizing demise," Leylin lamented bitterly, his voice tinged with regret at the missed opportunity for amusement.

[But why opt for your summon to execute him instead of a spell or your own hands?] Aralis questioned.

"As the heir of a Magus family, Bosain was likely marked by an official Magus with a tracking spell. If I had dispatched him personally, there would have been a high risk of detection," Leylin explained. "However, when he's dispatched by serpentine creatures that cannot be traced back to me, even if the enemy discerns the nature of the creature that devoured Bosain, it would appear entirely plausible that a Great Mankestre Snake had materialized within the secret realm of the esteemed Magus Serholm."

[In essence, this allows you to enjoy a period of impunity following this murder.] Aralis pointed out.

'Indeed...'

"Now, I am prepared for the test, Great Master." Leylin stated nonchalantly, dabbing a trace of blood from his visage and tasting it.

{The test has already commenced, my heir! For the second trial, project this spell formation within your mind in under 30 seconds!} A yellow, ethereal figure, a creation of the spell, manifested before Leylin.

Leylin was now convinced that the Great Magus Serholm himself was communicating with him. Under the circumstances of the collapsing secret realm, he intended for his chosen heir to undergo a test.

Furthermore, even for a rudimentary spell construct, it would typically require several hours to decipher. Thirty seconds? It was clearly a game. Fortunately, Leylin had the advantage of a super-powered A.I. capable of decoding such spell constructs in a mere three seconds.

Aralis dutifully fulfilled her role, projecting the completed spell formation into Leylin's mind with rapidity.

{Construction complete... highly impressive. Onto the next test. Within 30 seconds, construct this spell formation!} This time, it bore a blue hue.

Leylin rolled his eyes and continued to rely on Aralis for analysis.

Subsequently, a new spell formation, this one black in color, exceeded Leylin's expectations for analysis. Just before the 30-second timer elapsed, he managed to complete it.

Leylin thought the ordeal might be at an end. However, at that very moment, the yellow, blue, and black formations within his mind began to coalesce abruptly.

As the three spell constructs merged instantaneously, they transformed into a scarlet spell formation, adorned with an array of cryptic runes.

The scarlet lightning depicted behind the oil painting appeared to be drawn to Leylin, surging into his body without delay.

{My heir! You must possess courage, wisdom, astuteness, and knowledge. Only then can you break free from the shackles of your Bloodline…} The ancient voice resonated within Leylin's mind once more.

At that instant, Aralis indicated, [A Spiritual Force data cluster has been received!]

Subsequently, Leylin experienced a sensation akin to having his mind inundated with a torrent of knowledge, akin to the moment he first acquired his foundational meditation technique upon entering the academy.

An immense surge of information flowed incessantly into his consciousness, skillfully organized by Aralis.

{The tome is a unique meditation manual, handcrafted by me, exclusive to Warlocks of the Giant Kemoyin Serpent lineage… My grandest achievement is now yours...}

The very outset of this revelation filled Leylin with unparalleled euphoria.

"At long last, the high-grade meditation technique of my dreams rests within my grasp..." Leylin couldn't help but feel his blood course through his veins, nearly succumbing to ecstatic laughter.

[Alert! Time remaining until the place's collapse: 5 minutes and 1 second! The predetermined limit has nearly been reached!] Aralis' voice sounded another warning to Leylin.

"Shit!" Leylin sprang into action without delay.

Exiting the study chamber, he found himself within the resplendent Dylan Gardens, where a myriad of blossoms flourished.

Without further contemplation, Leylin hastily plucked several of the most precious flowers and stowed them away in his trusty satchel. He wasted no time and bolted from the Dylan Gardens.

Navigating the metallic corridor once more, Leylin returned to the cave housing the Black Horrall Snake's lifeless form.

"I'll be claiming this too." Leylin hastened to the spot where the serpentine creature lay. His right hand shimmered with arcane azure energy as he traced the incision he'd earlier made in the serpent's abdomen, retrieving a scarlet heart from within.

Handling such materials had proven to be bothersome, prompting Bosain to delay their retrieval until they were ready to depart.

"I'm running out of time!" Leylin's gaze darted to the rapidly dwindling countdown timer. Without hesitation, he began chanting an ancient incantation.

"Starier Guderian!" Leylin exclaimed.

This was the password etched within the Book of the Giant Serpent for exiting the secret plane. Unfortunately, with the secret plane's impending annihilation, it was unlikely he'd have another opportunity to employ it in the future.

Following the incantation, Leylin was enveloped in a crimson lightning and promptly vanished from the cave.

Perched upon the precipice's edge, a dramatic scene unfolded.

Intermittent crimson lightning bursts coalesced, weaving an intricate spell formation.

Gradually, amidst the volatile tempest, the ethereal visage of an acolyte with chestnut hair took on palpable form and alighted upon the craggy pinnacle.

"I am finally out." Leylin exclaimed, his gaze fixated on the roiling void emitting pulsating waves of energy. His expression was a mosaic of emotions.

This was the cataclysmic aftermath of a secret plane's self-obliteration in the prime world. Its detection was an arduous endeavor, as it remained profoundly concealed.

However, Leylin was keenly aware that the Dylan Gardens, along with all its treasures, had vanished from existence.

"What a pity... So many invaluable resources and precious herbs..." Leylin's eyes descended to the fading energy ripples in the vanishing void, a deep sense of regret welling up within him.

The secret plane had belonged to a Rank 4 Magus, boasting a bounty of flora and herbs, each worth millions of magic crystals. It was a botanical utopia that would have secured Leylin's financial stability upon his ascension to full Magushood.

'Thankfully, I haven't returned empty-handed.' Leylin's grip tightened around a handful of rare herbs, their appearance marred by his hasty escape.

In the chaos of his flight, he had only managed to secure a fraction of the most precious plants, causing some damage in the process.

'But there's one more... The Book of the Giant Serpent!' Leylin reverently touched the sturdy black tome before him. Unlike his other acquisitions over the years, he hesitated to destroy this particular treasure.

Though it merely concealed a high-grade meditation technique within the oil painting, the Great Magus Serholm's book held immense value. Its pages contained travel notes replete with drawings of priceless items that could augment Leylin's knowledge. Detailed experiments were meticulously chronicled, offering valuable insights.

Yet, the true gem within the Book of the Giant Serpent lay in its contents: twelve Rank 1 spell models and three Rank 2 spell models—objects that guilds and magisteriums across the South Coast vied for, beyond the reach of mere magic crystals.

At long last, the expedition's objective had been realized: a high-grade meditation technique.

This signified a path forward for Leylin, one not without its challenges, but still more promising than that of his fellow acolytes.

Any inkling of his newfound knowledge could only spell one fate for Leylin—an immediate target for every organization in the South Coast.

Even the most formidable of Magi, including the head of the Lighthouse of the Night, whom Leylin had encountered, would relentlessly pursue him, despite his current acolyte status.

Merely contemplating such a dire outcome gave Leylin a throbbing headache.

Determined to safeguard his gains, he decided, "Since I've made up my mind..." With a steely glint in his eyes, Leylin summoned his Negative Energy Fire to reduce the book to ashes. Not a trace of its existence lingered in the external world, retaining its secrets solely within his mind.

Turning his attention to the few captive prisoners behind him—unfortunate souls ensnared by Bosain's machinations and subjected to the secret plane's experiments—Leylin had even further plans in mind. He had bound them, becoming the architect of their uncertain fate.

He remained unaware of the duration he'd spent within the secret plane. All he knew was that, from Leylin's perspective, these few individuals teetered on the brink of death. A few more moments inside, and they would undoubtedly become lifeless husks.

"I had hoped to absorb Bosain's soul... but circumstances have changed," Leylin murmured softly, his dark tendrils snaking out toward the multitude of captives. One by one, they withered into mummified corpses as Leylin drained whatever remnants of energy they still possessed. They were all dead.

He didn't particularly relish this task, but it did grant him a modest boost in Spiritual Force. And given the choice, he'd always opt for slaughtering innocents rather than abstaining.

A wry smile crept across Leylin's face, as though he'd just remembered a particularly amusing joke.

Acolytes hailing from prestigious families or boasting exceptional academy talents often bore various detection spells. Should they meet their demise, these spells would activate, transferring themselves onto the nearest sentient being and morphing into tracking enchantments. Hence, Leylin rarely targeted other acolytes. When possible, he preferred to employ pawns to execute his tasks.

In the end, Leylin didn't even need to resort to his ultimate defense, the Fallen Star Pendant. Thanks to his companions, he'd conserved his strength until the final moments, making it almost effortless to seize the inheritance. His tactics had been shrewd and calculated, and they'd paid off handsomely.

Whenever he thought of the magical artifact on Bosain's person, capable of assuming any form, or the silvery, metallic "Silver Light" with its potent offensive and defensive capabilities, greed gleamed in Leylin's eyes.

Yet, he chose not to retrieve them from Bosain's lifeless form. Items belonging to influential families were almost certainly fortified with additional protective measures, Leylin suspected.

Moreover, he'd killed Bosain—a rising star among the acolytes at the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy, and an heir of the prestigious Lilytell family.

Once news of this incident reached the Lilytell family, they would undoubtedly seek vengeance.

Fortunately, Bosain's demise had resulted from the attack of a creature that wasn't directly summoned by Leylin. As a contracted beast, it bore no direct connection to him. Furthermore, Bosain had met his end in a secret plane, a location that would present considerable challenges for Magi adept in Divination or Prophecy.

"Nonetheless, it may not be sufficient. The methods of Divination Magi are far from straightforward..." Leylin's countenance grew intensely serious. Seated cross-legged on the cliff's edge, he plucked several water chestnut grasses and fashioned them into the likeness of a tiny human figure.

As the grassy figure tanned under the sun's gaze, Leylin deftly produced a dagger and sliced into his own arm. Crimson torrents cascaded, drenching the grass doll in a coat of vibrant red.

With the dagger still in hand, Leylin meticulously etched a peculiar rune upon his forehead using his own blood. This arcane mark bore an aura of ancient mystique, and its execution required a linguistic acrobatics, a cryptic tongue that carried a metallic resonance.

With an abrupt change in pitch and a rising and falling cadence, Leylin began an incantation that reverberated through the air, sending ripples of transformation into the surrounding atmosphere.

The incantation concluded, and Leylin exhaled audibly, releasing a dense cloud of inky black vapors that billowed forth from his form.

These vapors coalesced, steadily assuming a more distinct shape—a translucent, shadowy figure whose visage eerily mirrored Leylin's own.

"Go!" Leylin commanded, pointing towards the grass doll. The shadowy specter wasted no time, leaping into the doll with alacrity.

The doll shrank markedly as the shadow merged seamlessly, its countenance transforming to resemble Leylin's own.

With a deep breath, Leylin puckered his lips and emitted a high-pitched whistle. A majestic black raven emerged from the nearby forest, alighting gracefully on Leylin's shoulder.

"Carry it away, as far as possible!" Leylin instructed, carefully placing the grass doll onto the raven's talons before generously feeding the bird a magic crystal.

The raven's body underwent a rapid transformation, doubling in size, and its wingspan expanded to two or three times its previous measure. As it flapped its colossal wings, a miniature whirlwind spun into existence.

Watching the raven soar into the distance, Leylin breathed a sigh of relief. This ingenious stratagem was gleaned from the pages of an incomplete diary housed within the library. Supposedly, it possessed the ability to confound Divination Magi spells.

Though not without its limitations, Leylin believed it would buy him precious time, a respite under the scrutiny of Aralis's simulations.

Ever since he had killed Bosain, Leylin harbored no illusions of escaping scrutiny entirely. The world of Magi was fraught with enigmatic methods, and as a member of the prestigious Lilytell family—one of the three prominent houses within the Abyssal Bone Forest Academy—he understood that concealment was a futile endeavor when it came to Bosain's death.

Even employing the most rudimentary investigative methods would eventually expose his involvement. Nevertheless, Leylin harbored no remorse for his actions. The inheritance of the Great Magus Serholm was an opportunity he could not forgo, regardless of the consequences.

Now, all he craved was time. With the prerequisites in place, Leylin's only recourse to evade the relentless pursuit of the Lilytell family was to advance as an official Magus—a goal that now hinged on his ability to delay the inevitable.