Chapter 209: Gains

Merlin lay immobilized on the ground, his chest rising and falling in slow, pained breaths. The flame spirit looked at him and spoke calmly, "Your injuries are severe. If you wait to heal on your own, it may take quite some time."

Merlin's mind stirred. His wounds were indeed grave, and relying on his own resilience to recover would take months.

"Flame Spirit," he said, "if you have a way to speed up my recovery, I could start training in *Flame of Destruction* sooner. Perhaps I could even reach its second form faster, which would finally grant you the freedom you seek."

The flame spirit paused thoughtfully. After being bound to the ancient tower for thousands of years, it was desperate for release. But it had never found anyone able to meet its master's stringent conditions—someone who could cultivate *Flame of Destruction* to its second form.

Merlin was now its only hope.

After a brief silence, the flame spirit responded, "Your injuries are extensive, but I lack any healing potions."

"No healing potions?" Merlin sighed. His current recovery could take months without one.

"There is a possibility," the spirit said, "though I don't have potions myself. Over the years, many spellcasters have entered these ruins and met their ends at the hands of the patterned spiders that guard this tower. Those spiders have often collected the rings from these spellcasters. I'll have the spiders bring them here. You can see if any contain healing potions."

With that, Merlin felt a strange mental signal radiating from the flame spirit, which apparently possessed mental powers like a spellcaster. To Merlin's surprise, it directed the spiders to retrieve the rings.

The giant patterned spider in the corner of the room rose and vanished into the darkness of the tunnels.

Merlin lay quietly, using his mental power to inspect his surroundings. The hall was cool and still, likely an underground level of the ancient tower, purposefully constructed by its original owner.

Along the walls were scattered alchemical instruments, further evidence of the owner's background as a powerful alchemist.

Shortly after, the sound of movement echoed from the dark tunnel. Soon, a massive patterned spider crawled out, followed by several smaller ones. Each spider dropped one or two rings in front of Merlin, their spoils from past adventurers who had perished here.

In total, about twenty rings lay scattered on the ground. The spiders retreated, save for the largest one, which remained lurking in the corner.

"Now, search through these rings and see if there are any potions to aid your recovery," said the flame spirit.

Merlin nodded and extended his mental energy into each ring, one by one. The first held a small assortment of potion ingredients and a few elemental crystals, nothing notable. He continued searching.

After a few attempts, he finally found a ring containing healing potions suited for tissue regeneration, exactly what he needed.

With effort, Merlin drank one of the potions and felt warmth spreading through his body, a slight tingling as his damaged tissues began to heal. Thanks to these potions, what would have taken months to recover could now be accomplished in ten days.

"Any more rings?" Merlin asked with a faint smile. "If you send the spiders to gather more, I could recover even faster."

The flame spirit obliged, sending the large spider out again.

***

Days passed, and Merlin's health steadily improved. During this time, he sifted through countless rings the spiders retrieved, discovering a trove of resources: elemental crystals, rare alchemical ingredients—even components for phantom elixirs. He was now able to make more than a dozen doses.

Additionally, the rings contained various spell scrolls, mostly level-zero spells, though a handful contained level-one and two spells. Although the level-two spells weren't suited to his needs, Merlin had his Matrix record every scroll's content.

His own ring was now overflowing with resources, surpassing the wealth of even high-ranking spellcasters in Darklight Domain.

"It's time to leave," Merlin murmured. After weeks of healing, he was now fully recovered.

"Flame Spirit!" he called out.

A flare of fire appeared, quickly forming into the familiar figure of the flame spirit.

"Now that I'm fit enough to travel, I'll be leaving the tower," Merlin said. "If you could give me the treasures needed to cultivate *Flame of Destruction*, I'll train diligently. Should I reach its second form, I promise to return and set you free."

The flame spirit's fiery face betrayed a flicker of surprise.

"You wish to leave now?"