Attempts

"Right," Hugo admitted in a low voice, slightly embarrassed. "I...," he scratched the back of his neck, "...I lost. I apologize for any offense."

"I am recruiting those eligible to become qualified hunters. If you feel you can't cut it, you can leave at any time. If you decide to become a hunter, you'll have many responsibilities to bear."

"I won't leave—You... Lord Noah, can you tell me why? Why does your combat feel different... I felt pressure, an unprecedented pressure," Hugo asked Noah for insight, his pride visibly shaken.

Noah pondered for a moment.

"What does power mean to you?" he asked.

"Power... I've never thought about that," Hugo shook his head.

"Neither do I," Noah reflected. "But we'll find the answers together."

Noah dressed himself and walked away, leaving Hugo alone with his thoughts.

"So this is what it feels like to crush the weak," Gladius boasted to Noah. "Everyone, to some extent, enjoys belittling others. You've crushed his pride because you're stronger, and you fear nothing. He will be left in doubt, self-questioning, consumed by inner turmoil, losing confidence. Each time he wakes from a midnight dream, he'll remember the deep humiliation of his public defeat today."

"That must be tough," Noah thought.

"I loved the sound of his weapon breaking. At that moment, his ego shattered too. How delightful! You, Noah, the supreme victor—you're entitled to everything! Why should anyone else posture in front of you? Reach out, seize, grab, own. You deserve benefits that match your power. Everyone else is just a stepping stone beneath your feet!"

"Quiet down."

"You crave that moment deep inside; you're fascinated by it, and that's why you decided to teach him a lesson. You enjoyed it, and now it'll continue."

"I..."

"Fame, trust, and authority—these are your true loves."

"That's not it."

"No need to admit it. What we need is action! Every avaricious mortal seeking thrill denies their true purpose. Instead, they rationalize their actions to convince others of their nobility, and eventually, they even believe it themselves. But it's fine! I understand! Just keep saying, 'I am not like this!' while doing what needs to be done."

"You don't need to provoke me. I've never been afraid of being selfish."

He ascended another floor to the sixth level, also empty. Noah used this room for practicing spells—bare and echoing, he closed the door behind him. The thick stone walls provided excellent soundproofing.

"You're training here?" Gladius inquired.

"To become stronger."

"That's it! The world is divided... In some worlds without supernatural powers, people tend to play by the rules... adhere to the norms, do the same things day after day, forcing themselves to believe in 'common sense', protected by order... But in such a supernatural world, the only worthy pursuit is to grow stronger, stronger, and the strongest! To ultimately control everything! Whether it's you... me... or us... we will devour everything..." Gladius tempted continuously.

Noah didn't think so deeply; he only wanted to master the incantations before teaching others, to avoid leading them astray. He counted the spells he had mastered—five in total.

Affen flames, Phantom power, Flowing shadows, Nuin's edge, Banishment beyond. Among these spells, he was certain of his mastery of Affen flames, had a grasp on Phantom power, and used Flowing shadows often enough to accumulate experience in casting illusions. But Nuin's edge still had issues, and Banishment beyond was seldom usable and hard to practice.

"Do you know any other hunter's spells? You've devoured the memories of other hunters," Noah asked.

"You, trying to disturb the rest of other souls, wanting me to thoroughly search their memories. If it were me, I'd let them rest peacefully inside," Gladius complained bitterly.

"Just do it, then tell me."

"I recall a kind and honest hunter recruit, about a week ago, named Noah, I believe. If he were here, he'd surely berate you, this heartless wretch. Tell me, where did he go?"

"I don't have time for your chatter."

"Good thing he's dead. Did you bury him properly? Make sure he doesn't crawl back out... You must remember the tracing spell Frederick used when hunting me, right? Let me tell you its rhythm and divine tune. 'The hunt begins.'"

Noah listened attentively, discerning the nuances in the incantation.

"How do you use it?"

"It's a dangerous spell that can establish a very powerful connection between you and the demon. It can sense your location at all times, and you can pinpoint its position until one of you is killed, ending the hunt's connection."

"Excellent," Noah committed it to memory. 'The hunt begins', the ultimate action in hunting demons. This was what he needed. "Any others?"

"Take it easy, Noah. Hunter's spells, though mere dregs, low-grade incantations, still take time to master, don't they?" Gladius's tone always seemed laden with mischief.

Noah practiced the spells continuously in the room, deepening his understanding of the piercing spell. Initially, the spell left mere chips on the wall, but later he managed to leave noticeable dents in the thick stone—a testament to its ability to penetrate metal.

Analyzing all the spells, Noah pondered, peeling each incantation apart like he did with Phantom power, finding the mysteries behind them, understanding why they could bind the world.

The spells were unpredictable. During repeated tests, Noah sought variations, dividing Nuin's edge into seven sections, adjusting the pitch of each, and gradually discovering the secrets within. The essence of the piercing spell was to create a sharp blade of light; it wasn't necessarily very sharp and could be extended laterally, covering a street up to two or three meters wide.

Even during practice cuts, Gladius became more amiable, seemingly enjoying the process. Blade demon created many targets out of stored soul sediment for Noah to test the spells on. The destructive power of Nuin's edge seemed constant, regardless of concentration or expansion, capable of slicing through the same thickness of demon material.

Since that was the case, why did Master Frederick only shape it into spikes? Noah contemplated. The best way to utilize this spell was to expand it horizontally, tearing through the entire area in front—it should be called the Blade Light spell.

The spell could even be applied to weapons, as Noah had seen Logan do.

"Nuin's edge!" He channeled the silvery spell onto his gray blade, which instantly filled with dazzling sharp light.

With a forceful swing, the blade light rippled outward, slicing through the black figures created by Gladius, cleaving them apart.

"Terrifying power," Noah regarded his blade thoughtfully.

But what about attaching it to other things—shields, clubs, crossbows, even armor? Noah wasn't sure.

What was certain was that Noah now mastered a very lethal spell. The melodic tone of the incantation was twisted, no longer as pure and pleasant as initially, even sounding odd, but it had become more versatile, applicable in varied situations.

"Bring out your crossbow," Gladius ordered.

Noah fetched his simple yet sturdy crossbow, a gift from Logan. During the first few months traveling with the old hunter, the crossbow was a primary training tool.

Everyone in the chapel should indeed have their own crossbow, but after the chapel was plundered, all the precious equipment was stolen. If given the chance, Noah would prioritize settling scores with the Thieves Guild, but he still had to wait for Duven to infiltrate successfully and find an opportunity.

Gladius coated the crossbow in demon material, tracing black patterns over it, as evil power seeped into the entire crossbow, changing its internal structure forever. Its string grew tougher, and the whole crossbow took on a newfound elegance and refinement... beautiful? It was hard to associate it with the old wooden crossbow he had before.

Noah cradled the demon crossbow, hundreds of black bolts, each as sharp as his own blade, a hallmark of demonic craftsmanship, formed out of demon material. At the back of each bolt, the material specialized into feather-like shapes to provide stability after firing.

"Good craftsmanship," Noah stowed away the crossbow and bolts, "you can do good as well?"

Gladius let out a sullen laugh; what was it so pleased about?

He left the room and headed down the tower, encountering Ines on the way.

"Lord Noah," she greeted.

"What is it?"

"There's a big crowd outside," Ines looked worried, "they want to enter the chapel."

"Want to come in? Why?"

"The witch incident at the castle has spread, scaring many. If even the Earl's castle isn't safe, where is? They're afraid to stay in their homes at night, preferring to take refuge in the chapel. After all, it's a historic base for demon hunters, they feel safer here," she explained.

"Charge them."

"Charge?" Ines was surprised.

"Yes," Noah nodded, "one silver coin per night. Collect it and hand it over to me. Have someone on duty, and if anyone stirs trouble or deliberately causes damage, whip them and throw them out." It was strange how naturally these words came to him now.

"Corporal punishment!" Ines's eyes widened, "A whipping!"

"What? You can't be soft-hearted with them," Noah looked at her strangely.

"I mean, I quite like the idea," Ines said coyly, "Please let me do it if the opportunity arises."

"It's better if such situations don't occur," Noah wasn't fond of troublemaking civilians.

"Are you going to take a look?"

"Of course," Noah decided to go outside and see those seeking refuge at the chapel.