Zeke’s gaze remained fixed on the door even after David had left. Even now, he was still baffled by the turn events had taken.
When he first heard that his former butler had run into Leo in the hallway, he had honestly expected a reprimand. Another lecture about Maximillian’s principles. He had been wrong. Whatever Leo had said to him must have truly shaken David to the core.
Zeke chuckled at the thought.
Hours ago, Leo himself had argued that he was no great speaker, no skilled negotiator. Ironically, his first act as a Grand Mage had been to convince David to abandon his long-held beliefs, something Zeke himself had never managed in all those years.
Sometimes, it seemed, it was not only about the right message, but also about the messenger.
Whatever the case, with both David and Leo now firmly in his camp, the future of his new faction already looked far more promising. For now, he had entrusted both of them with the same mission: recruitment.
Obviously, they could not openly approach people about joining a secret faction, nor could they wantonly poach the elves he had already promised to the new queen of Rukia. Unfortunately, that meant Irisen and the Sanctuary Archmages were off-limits.
But that did not really bother Zeke, nor did he see it as a great sacrifice. After all, for someone who could mass-produce mages, the most valuable resource was not established powerhouses. Not at all. To him and his new faction, the most valuable resource was potential. Or, more precisely, young children with outstanding magical potential. And, as morbid as it sounded, there was nothing more abundant than orphans in a war.
At this very moment, there were likely still hundreds of such children on his ship, children who had no place to return to and not a single living soul left who cared for them.
Though it sounded callous to make use of such vulnerable people, Zeke did not see it that way. For these children, most of whom would likely starve if left on their own, the offer of a warm meal and a place to sleep would likely have been tempting enough for them to sell their souls.
In comparison, what he intended to give them was more akin to charity than exploitation. What he offered, what his faction offered, was a genuine path to power. It was a path to a respectable life, one that would ultimately even allow them to take revenge against the very people who had put them in that position.
That brought him to his present problem.
With the issue of recruitment in capable hands and his mage-making pipeline established, it was only a matter of time until his newly inducted mages would become Grand Mages, just like him and Leo. And then their progress would slow to a crawl.
Unless, of course, he could figure out a method to accelerate the path to Archmage.
Zeke could not help but sigh. This was the role he had chosen for himself. The path of a Torchbearer. But already, he felt the burden of that role. Creating miracles on its own was hard enough, but doing it on command was even harder.
At least he was not going into this completely blind. The things Khai’Zar had said about formless casting being a superior path were still fresh on his mind. And with Akasha able to control the situation outside, he had at least a couple of days until his next status update, when he would have to create a new body for her. More than enough time to get started.
Zeke tilted his head from side to side, producing an audible crack with each twist.
How long had it been since he had the leisure to focus purely on magical research like this? Was it back in the wilderness, when he had first been trapped in the Mana Purifying Device?
That had been years ago.
Recently, the only thing he had had time for was his scattered research into Concepts. He had made some progress with his first Blood Concept of Return. But even then, he had never managed to reach a point where he could use it freely in combat.
Still, from what he remembered, he had grown quite comfortable using it under laboratory conditions.
Well, no time like the present to find out whether his mastery had advanced or regressed after leaving it untouched for so long.
Zeke cast a simple spell, a modified version of [Blood Bullet], and imbued it with the Concept of Return. He extended his finger, pointed at one of the practice targets in the corner, and released.
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A droplet of blood burst from his finger like a pebble loosed from a fully drawn sling. It struck the reinforced iron slate dead center on the marking, failing to leave even a scratch. But that did not matter to Zeke. He had not put much Mana into the spell in the first place. His eyes remained fixed on the tiny dot.
There!
With almost the same speed, the drop began its return trip. It was not much slower than the initial attack, though it seemed to have lost much of the rigid nature it had possessed before. The moment it made contact with Zeke’s outstretched palm, the blood merged back into his body through the pores.
Perfect execution. The Concept worked just as he remembered.
Though Zeke had to admit, after what he had experienced on the battlefield last time, it seemed... somewhat lacking.
All that power, all that potential, and the best he had been able to come up with was... Return?
Naturally, he still remembered why he had made that choice in the first place. For one, the limiting factor of any Blood Mage was always their blood supply. In Zeke’s case, that was even more of an issue. His own blood, mixed with valuable draconic essence, could not be wasted on one-off attacks.
From that point of view, the Concept he had chosen to develop definitely made sense.
However, after using mostly other people’s blood during of his fights in the last battle, he now felt that this issue was not as crucial as he had previously assumed.
As that memory, Zeke thought of something. He had not attempted to use his own blood in formless casting in a long time.
He raised his hand and extended all five fingers. A moment later, claw-like spikes erupted from each of them. There had been no spell, only a mental image of what he wanted to happen and a tiny pulse of Mana.
It was incredible. This had been even more effortless than when he commanded the blood of strangers. A perfect affinity truly felt like cheating. No need for a spellform. No need for practice. At least for simple effects like these, a mere thought was enough to make them reality.
All of a sudden, Zeke grew curious. He had never attempted to actually combine the two. Both formless casting and his Concept of Return were things he had used separately, but he had no idea how they would function when combined.
Could he do it?
He pointed his hand, still adorned with five crimson claws, toward the same target as before. He focused on his index finger, willing the spike to turn into a projectile. But that was not all. In the same breath, he trie to use his Concept of Return.
To his surprise, the two mental images merged seamlessly in his mind. It almost felt as if they were matching pieces of a puzzle.
The spike struck the same spot, and this time managed to pierce the target slightly. A moment later, the blood returned, its form fully intact.
Zeke felt a moment of panic when he saw the blood shoot back toward him as though to attack, but he forced himself to remain calm. Even if this ended up injuring him, he would not die. And, in this moment, he did not want to do anything to jeopardize the data.
To his surprise, the returning dart caused him no pain when it struck his hand. And when he looked down, he found himself utterly speechless.
The blood had not merged back into his system. Instead, it had returned to the same position as before. It had become a claw-like extension of his index finger, again connected to his bloodstream and just as sharp as it had been before the attack.
He blinked.
Still there.
He blinked again.
The same.
Slowly, Zeke urged the claws to retract. The blood followed his will as if it were part of his own body. He balled his hand into a fist, then spread his fingers once more. There was no issue.
…
…
“WHAT… THE… FUCK!?”
He could not help but curse, not out of anger, but sheer surprise. This had not only been by far the most impressive execution of his Concept so far, but also the easiest. He had barely even needed to try.
In contrast, using his Concept with a spellform felt a little like putting a leash on a wild beast. It never seemed to become any easier; he merely grew more skilled at wrangling the energy through repeated practice. However, when he had just added the same Concept to his formless casting, that resistance had been absent.
Zeke’s mind began to whir.
Now that he thought about it more clearly, it actually made sense.
Why should there be any rejection in the first place?
In essence, a Concept was nothing but an advanced form of mental imagery. A highly concrete image that the mage had refined so many times that it had almost taken on a solid form in their mind.
And what was formless casting?
It was literally a mental image given form.
Both of these methods had the same origin. Like two sides of the same coin.
Zeke felt his heart begin to beat faster.
This discovery... was huge! No, no, no. Calm down.. Nothing was certain yet. So far, this was only a theory. A single trial was nowhere near enough to confirm such a daring hypothesis.
He lifted his hand once more, and the same claw-like spikes appeared again. He aimed and fired, but he did not stop at one. Index, middle, ring, little finger, thumb. Before any one projectile could even hit, the next was already in the air.
Whoosh-Thunk. Whoosh-Thunk. Whoosh-Thunk. Whoosh-Thunk. Whoosh-Thunk.
Five spikes embedded themselves into the target, and then, after a single breathless moment, they began to move again.
Whoosh-Whoosh-Whoosh-Whoosh-Whoosh.
Zeke watched as the spikes returned to his fingers in the exact order he had sent them out. Index, middle, ring, little finger, thumb.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound hammering in his ears like distant thunder was, in truth, the beating of his own heart. This confirmed it. Using his Concept, something he and all other mages had to struggle with for years before achieving mastery, had just become almost effortless for him.
Zeke was not yet sure what this meant, what the consequences of this discovery would be, or even what its use cases were. But one thing was certain. Khai’Zar’s theory that formless casting was the true form of Magic had just become a whole lot more plausible.