Chapter 70: The Only Way, Muscle Monster

"Why do you say that?"

Ronan paused, then asked.

"Because your soul is full of impurities. If you force a breakthrough, you'll most likely die. If you don't attempt it, you'll probably live longer than most..."

"My mental energy impurities..."

"I'm talking about your soul," the clear voice corrected him, "or more commonly known as a wizard's talent, soul aptitude."

"Soul aptitude..."

As they spoke, a beam of light projected from the house with the blue roof, forming into a prism-like crystal in front of Ronan.

The crystal was beautiful, clear, and refracted the colors of the winter sun.

"This represents a soul with the best aptitude, without any impurities, naturally attuned to all elements, making meditation extremely efficient."

Ronan curiously observed the transparent crystal, which suddenly became tainted with ink, rapidly clouding it.

In an instant, the entire crystal was obscured and murky.

"This is your soul."

Ronan found it hard to accept, "Is my aptitude really that bad?"

"Worse than you think. The fact that you've come this far is proof of how much alchemy has advanced with time."

The clear voice continued, seemingly unaware of the blow it had dealt to Ronan's spirit, "The blackness that clouds the crystal is what I refer to as soul impurities. The core of an apprentice wizard advancing to a formal wizard is purifying the soul, and the role of the Spirit Ignition Potion is to burn away these impurities, facilitating the soul's transformation."

"With your soul aptitude, to achieve the level of purification required to successfully advance to a formal wizard, you'd need at least five bottles of Spirit Ignition Potion."

Ronan's expression relaxed slightly upon hearing this.

Five bottles.

Counting the one Anglair gave him, Ronan had exactly five bottles of Spirit Ignition Potion.

It seemed the problem wasn't as severe as he feared, just more resource-intensive than usual.

However, before Ronan could feel relieved, the clear voice shattered his illusion.

"Don't underestimate the problem. The Spirit Ignition Potion burns not just the impurities in your soul but parts of the soul itself, which is tied to your lifespan. After five bottles, you'd probably die of old age."

Burning lifespan, dying of old age?!

Ronan's face turned grim.

He realized that his repeated rejections might not only have been due to Laura but also his poor aptitude.

Every mentor-level figure saw his issue, concluded he couldn't break through to a formal wizard, and coupled with his entanglement with Laura, treated him poorly—who would favor an apprentice with no future and a load of trouble?

As for Jerome...

Jerome likely hadn't closely examined his aptitude.

"Is there no solution?"

Ronan was unwilling to give up.

"Of course, but you can't achieve it."

The clear voice continued bluntly, "Neither enhancing the soul's essence nor purifying soul impurities are within your reach. So my advice is to abandon advancement and live well."

The problem is, he can't live well!

Ronan gritted his teeth.

Whether it was Laura or Anglair, both posed threats to his life. Advancing to a formal wizard offered a slim chance of survival; giving up meant eventual death.

Even without these troubles, Ronan didn't want to give up easily. After so much effort to reach the ninth-level apprentice stage, so close to becoming a formal wizard, how could he just stop?

Unknowingly, Ronan's mindset had drastically changed since his initial crossing into this world.

"Isn't there anything I can do? Even a glimmer of hope?"

Ronan pressed on.

The voice hesitated, then said, "Perhaps if you continue advancing with that mundane body-tempering technique, it might help. A strong body can extend lifespan to some degree."

Body-tempering?!

Ronan was startled, then quickly nodded, acknowledging the suggestion.

At least it provided a direction to strive for, better than waiting idly for death.

"By the way, may I ask what exactly is a soul sigil? Everyone says it's important."

Ronan figured he wouldn't find another mentor-level person as patient as the owner of the clear voice, so he decided to ask everything at once.

"A soul sigil is incredibly important. It's a rune, but rarer than ordinary runes. It affects a wizard's soul, altering the power and form of their spells, greatly enhancing their effects."

"For example, if you specialize in fire spells, then forging a [Lava Fire Ring] sigil would mean every fire spell you cast includes the effect of a lava fire ring. If you forge a [Pyromancer] sigil, your fire spells would have a wider burning range and higher flame temperature."

Ronan finally understood. He immediately thought of Jerome and speculated that his soul sigil might be the [Lava Fire Ring] mentioned by the clear voice, which is why every fireball he threw exploded with a ring of heat.

In essence, a soul sigil was like having rune effects enchanted onto oneself, so that spells cast would inherently possess the sigil's effects.

From this perspective, a soul sigil was indeed crucial for a wizard.

Without it, a wizard would be missing several pieces of magical equipment compared to those with one.

With a powerful soul sigil, even challenging stronger opponents might be possible.

Ronan's eyes flickered as he quickly asked, "How should one choose a soul sigil?"

"It depends on the spells you specialize in and your intended combat style. Every wizard's spell system is built around their sigil, and different schools of wizardry arise from this."

No wonder the advanced apprentice in the Forest of Whispered Death had detailed notes on different spell schools and corresponding sigil choices. They were constructing their future spell system.

Regarding soul sigils, Ronan wanted to ask more detailed questions, but the clear voice ran out of patience.

"Knowing this much is useless to you now. Only formal wizards can forge soul sigils, and you're not even sure if you can get past this hurdle."

As they were speaking, another voice suddenly emerged from the house.

"Grace! Grace!"

The new voice was mature and graceful, a middle-aged woman calling out.

Upon hearing the call, the cheerful girl's voice turned anxious and hurried. After a clattering noise, something flew out from a small window on the second floor of the house.

"Catch!"

Ronan instinctively caught it.

A potion, crimson in color... another Spirit Ignition Potion!

"What the...!"

Ronan was puzzled, "Is this stuff really that cheap?"

He had been given several already.

But upon reflection, it made sense. The primary role of Spirit Ignition Potions was to aid apprentices in becoming wizards. To apprentices, they were invaluable, but to formal wizards, they held no use.

"Go! If you manage to advance successfully... come find me again!"

The girl's voice urged quickly, followed by a force pushing Ronan away.

"Grace, why is there a spell barrier at your door? What are you doing in there?"

"Mom! I'm an adult witch now; why can't you give me some private space?"

"Technically, you're three months and seven days from being officially an adult..."

"Oh, damn it, can you stop emphasizing that, Mom!..."

Ronan stood on the leafy path, listening to the distant exchange between mother and daughter from the blue-roofed house, then looked at the Spirit Ignition Potion in his hand.

"Body-tempering technique, huh?"

Ronan's gaze grew determined.

"Damn it... let's do this!"

After the deep winter, the snow gradually melted.

In the forest, two figures in robes trudged through the damp woods.

A middle-aged man with gray eyes struggled to pull his foot from a half-melted snowdrift, cursing under his breath.

"Keep it down."

Beside him, a thin man with a red nose whispered a reminder, "Don't let the black robes hear you."

"There aren't any black robes here now."

The gray-eyed man scoffed, "The battlefield between the academy and the Forest of Whispered Death has moved elsewhere. Haven't you noticed most missions lately require taking an airship?"

"Still, we should be careful not to attract magical beasts. This time of year, the forest is teeming with them."

The gray-eyed man shrugged, unconvinced but unwilling to argue.

"I remember it's around here."

The two continued into the forest, the red-nosed man searching around, muttering.

The gray-eyed man, holding a staff resembling a thick branch, kept watch.

Suddenly, the red-nosed man's eyes lit up, and he rushed to a snow-covered bush, digging eagerly.

"Found it! This is the spot."

As they excitedly unearthed their treasure, suddenly—

"Roar!"

A tremendous roar echoed from the nearby woods.

The sound, seemingly from a beast, shook snow from the trees and stirred the energy particles in the air.

The treasure hunters froze, looking up with terror on their faces.

"It's... it's a magical beast!"

"Damn, your jinxed mouth!"

Their faces pale, they hastily grabbed a black bundle from the snow and prepared to flee.

But before they could take a step, a second beastly roar rang out.

"Boom! Boom!"

This roar was even more terrifying, creating soundwaves in the forest that snapped branches and whipped the air.

Most disturbingly—

The tone of this roar differed entirely from the first, clearly coming from another beast.

The gray-eyed man and the red-nosed man were nearly paralyzed with fear, their faces as white as the snow around them.

"Magical beasts! Two of them!

And they seem to be high-level!"

Their judgment stemmed from instinctive alarm.

Both were mid-level wizard apprentices; only high-level, or even higher, magical beasts could instill such dread.

"Run! Quickly!"

"Wait!"

The red-nosed man urged his companion to flee, but after a few steps, the gray-eyed man grabbed him.

"Something's off!"

The gray-eyed man's expression was puzzled and curious, whispering, "Calm down... listen carefully."

The red-nosed man was agitated—if they didn't run now, they'd be dead meat once the high-level beasts caught their scent.

But unable to overpower his companion, he reluctantly paused, listening intently.

After a moment, the red-nosed man's face mirrored the other's puzzlement.

"Hey... it sounds like they're whimpering?"

"Exactly, that's what I thought too."

The gray-eyed man grew excited.

"Don't run. It's likely two high-level magical beasts are fighting and have injured each other. This is our chance to scavenge."

The gray-eyed man's eyes gleamed with fervor, his face alight with excitement.

"How much are the bodies of two high-level magical beasts worth?

What about that little treasure you spotted earlier?"

"Say no more."

The red-nosed man rubbed his nose vigorously, declaring, "A great wizard once said wealth is for the brave! Let's go!"

With a chuckle, the gray-eyed man and his companion abandoned their escape, moving toward the source of the roars.

As they approached, the sounds of battle grew clearer.

Indeed, it was the sound of a struggle, accompanied by beastly whimpers.

Judging by the frequency, the fight seemed to be nearing its end, with the whimpers growing weaker.

"Perfect timing... just in time for us to collect the bodies!"

They exchanged glances, seeing exhilaration and joy mirrored in each other's eyes.

Nothing was more delightful than a windfall falling into their laps.

High-level magical beast skirmishes weren't rare, but luck had favored them today.

With eager anticipation, they followed the scent of blood in the air until they stepped into the battlefield.

But as they looked up, the scene before them left them stunned, as if hit by a petrifying spell, robbing them of all movement.

The battlefield was as brutal as they had imagined—

A twenty-meter-long, two-meter-thick serpent, covered in blue scales and lined with spines, lay motionless in the snow, its deep blue blood spreading and freezing the ground beneath it.

Nearby, a colossal four-armed red-furred ape, the size of a small hill, heaved with labored breaths, blood gushing like a fountain, struggling...

However.

The battlefield had a third party!

This unexpected third party left them rooted in shock.

This third party, standing between two high-level magical beasts, the jungle's rulers... was a person!

A tremendously strong and burly person.

Standing on the four-armed ape's body, bare-chested, drenched in blood.

His long hair, stained dark red, hung loosely over his back, each muscle resembling gnarled roots, steaming with heat as if waves of warmth emanated from him.

This figure held a long sword wreathed in ghostly blue flames, slowly withdrawing it from the ape's chest, its black blade flowing with mysterious energy...

Hearing the commotion they made, the figure slightly turned his head...

His blood-covered face was indistinct, but the two men saw a pair of gem-like, cold azure eyes.

"Run! Run!"

The red-nosed man managed to stammer, his voice breaking into a piercing scream.

Their faces pale, their chests filled with sheer terror, their minds blank, leaving only the instinct to flee.

This wasn't a case of high-level magical beasts injuring each other—

Someone had single-handedly slaughtered two high-level magical beasts!

A black robe?!

A monster?!

A barbarian wizard?!

They didn't know, but it was certainly a horror ten times greater than any high-level magical beast!

"Is this how I look now... cough, cough."

Watching the two gray-robed wizards scramble away in panic, Ronan cleared his throat, trying to turn his deep, hoarse voice back to its former clarity.

"Am I really that frightening now?"

"Cough, cough, cough!"

"Damn!"

Ronan was resigned.

It felt as if even his vocal cords were bulging with muscles.

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