Chapter 21: Chapter 21: The Terrifying Neighbor and the Hidden Crisis
Ron was dining in the communal hall when the chatter of several candidate apprentices at the neighboring table caught his ear:
"Did you hear Darrend bought that kind of potion?" asked a tall, slender figure with mid-length hair, his tone filled with mystery.
"What potion? The one for brain development?" His companion’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Yes, he said he’s trying to complete that sound wave magic concept..." The long-haired man nodded, his expression a mix of surprise and disdain.
"Is he crazy? So many people have tried and failed..."
The third person sneered, shaking his head:
"With his level of spiritual power, using that potion would only turn him into a monster."
Ron had been chewing on an unappetizing piece of black bread, contemplating the magic potion making content he needed to review.
But when he heard them mention his neighbor Darrend, he frowned and put down his tray.
In the past few days, the noise from Darrend’s experiments had become less frequent. Ron thought perhaps the mad researcher had finally hit a bottleneck and opted to rest.
Now it seems, that might not be the case.
"The dormitory area has indeed been too quiet lately. I hope it’s not what I think..."
He muttered to himself, looked at the half-eaten black bread in his hand, and lost his appetite.
Speaking of which, when he first arrived at the Black Mist Jungle, he was actually somewhat familiar with this neighbor named Darrend.
The first meal he had here was at the same table as Darrend.
"My home is in Cedar City, north of the Black Mist Jungle."
At that time, Darrend’s temper wasn’t as eccentric and irritable as it is now. The slightly chubby youth stirred a bowl of beet soup while softly introducing himself:
"Our family has been musicians for generations, performing music and composing pieces for the nobility in the city."
His eyes lit up unusually bright when he mentioned music:
"Can you imagine, Ron? Music isn’t just sound; it’s a wave of energy, a resonance of the soul. From a young age, I’ve been able to sense the connections between different notes, their rhythms, their power..."
Ron remembered nodding politely at the time, not quite understanding Darrend’s passion.
"My spiritual talent isn’t high, not even reaching the fifth-class star. I was nearly in despair on my way here."
Darrend stirred his soup, his voice low, seemingly unaware that the food in the bowl had gradually cooled:
"But on the first day of school, I saw an opportunity on the announcement board."
He lowered his voice mysteriously:
"Besides the regular spiritual power tests, the school offers another promotion path—completing a spell concept for bounty. If you can develop a semi-finished spell to a practical stage, you can also gain the qualification to remain."
"And I found a subject that perfectly matched my specialty..."
Darrend’s eyes sparkled: "Sound wave conduction spiritual force field. The moment I saw that name, I knew it was meant for me."
In the following months, Darrend indeed invested himself entirely into this research.
Occasionally, Ron would catch a glimpse of his room packed with equipment and notes, its walls pasted with strange symbols and musical scores.
For the first two months, Darrend regularly struck various metal utensils, sometimes releasing odd tones, then cursing before starting over.
During that period, Ron often complained to Andre, feeling the neighbor’s noise interfered with his meditation.
But about a month ago, Darrend began to become discouraged.
The research appeared to hit a bottleneck; no matter how he tried, he couldn’t make sound waves truly affect the spiritual force field.
"The problem is my spiritual power is too weak," he complained to Ron once, frustrated: "If I were just a bit stronger, I could break through this barrier."
In the last few days, those sounds became even less frequent.
Initially, Ron thought Darrend had finally given up, but when he bumped into him by chance in the communal bathroom yesterday, he noticed a nearly mad glint flicker in Darrend’s eyes, his face waxy yellow, and his once slightly plump figure had thinned almost to emaciation.
"Are you alright?" he casually asked at the time.
Darrend smiled at him, that smile oddly eerie: "Alright? Of course...I’m about to succeed, Ron."
After saying that, he ignored Ron, turning away without looking back.
In hindsight, Darrend had already shown signs of abnormality by then...
With this thought, Ron used the bread to wipe off the last bit of sauce from his tray, forcibly stuffing it into his mouth, then headed to the wash area.
Perhaps... he should be a bit more wary of this neighbor. He thought as he washed his tray.
Back in his room, Ron opened the book "Basic Meditation Technique," resuming his meditation; today he should be able to meditate a little longer.
Though he had expended a considerable amount of energy, the stimulant potion’s effect over the past days had kept his mental state at a fairly high level.
[Basic Meditation Start]The source of thɪs content is
This time, he attempted to incorporate the knowledge learned from Lady Allen into meditation.
Instead of merely sketching runes, he sought to feel the natural flow of spiritual power.
Whenever the flow encountered resistance, he gently guided it, letting it follow the most natural path, much like an experienced helmsman using the current’s power instead of opposing it.
In the consciousness space, the rune formed by three arcs began to emit a faint light.
Different from its usual rigid form, the rune now seemed alive, subtly trembling with the spiritual power’s undulation.
[Special Effect Triggered: Rhythm Resonance—Meditation Effect Slightly Increased]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points +1]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points +1]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points +1]
...
[Today’s Cultivation Time Has Reached Its Limit, Rest is Advised]
Ron opened his eyes, although it was a bit less than when solely using the stimulant potion for meditation, it was still much higher than at the start.
"It seems ’rhythm’ is indeed the key."
He muttered softly while jotting down today’s insights in his notebook.
His notes had become quite comprehensive, evolving from scattered observations to a relatively systematic theory.
After organizing his notes, Ron picked up the training wooden sword, beginning to practice the basic moves of "Corona Swordsmanship."
Though lacking the guidance of a professional coach, he could rely on Andre’s notes to gradually explore.
Each sword swing was synchronized with the rhythm of the "Crown Breathing Technique," achieving a subtle balance between movement and breath.
As the practice deepened, he found this coordination becoming smoother, the motions more fluid.
[Basic Swordsmanship Experience Points +1]
[Basic Swordsmanship Experience Points +1]
[Basic Swordsmanship Experience Points +1]
...
As the sky gradually darkened, Ron tidied the room, set down the wooden sword, undressed, and lay down on the bed for a bit of rest.
Just as he was about to drift into sleep, a strange sensation suddenly arose in his mind.
It was an indescribable vague perception, as if someone or something was watching him.
A bizarre sound suddenly emanated from the adjacent room, at times high-pitched, at times low, like someone—or something—struggling in agony.