112 Baman's Maneuver

Spiritual power is the energy derived from the soul. Much like leaves on a tree, as long as the foundation remains unharmed, spiritual power can be generated endlessly. Conversely, by completely devouring one’s spiritual power, it is possible to directly extinguish a soul.
——Excerpt from *Theresa’s Alchemy Notes*

Within the Void Realm, the Little Eagle and the Little Wolf were each engaging a Void Demon. Since both little ones were alchemy puppets that had undergone a single evolution, their bodies had shifted closer to reality, and their spirits had become increasingly dense. To soul-devouring entities like Void Demons, these two were exceptionally potent nourishment. Thus, the moment they appeared, they immediately drew the attention of the demons. After a few brief probes, they naturally lured one away each, leaving Theresa, who had been a step behind, with nothing to do but watch in boredom.

Following ten days of combat, the Little Eagle and the Little Wolf had become highly skilled hunters. Facing two exhausted Void Demons, the pair employed their own unique styles. The Little Eagle hovered in the air, utilizing its aerial advantage to harass the enemy, while the Little Wolf would periodically tunnel into the sand, launching surprise strikes from unexpected angles. Though both favored a combat style based on finesse rather than brute force, the Little Eagle focused on a war of attrition, while the Little Wolf systematically laid traps to ensnare its prey.

It is hard to say which strategy was superior; it ultimately depended on what suited each creature. After its evolution, the Little Eagle had gained the foundation of a living weapon, capable of using every part of its body from head to claw as an instrument of destruction. The Little Wolf’s appearance had not changed much, but its intelligence had grown significantly. Despite its typically docile demeanor, it revealed a cunning nature in battle—one could only wonder where it had learned so much tactical maneuvering.

The Little Eagle’s attacks were heavy and possessed a faint paralyzing property. Every strike caused the Void Demon to stiffen momentarily. With repeated hits, intangible electrical energy seeped into the demon, disrupting the cohesion and operation of its spiritual power, inevitably causing it to lose control of its physical form. Whenever this occurred, the Little Eagle would ruthlessly tear off a piece of the demon’s flesh and quickly devour it. Since Void Demons are purely spiritual entities, their composition consists entirely of spiritual power, which the Little Eagle could absorb directly. As one side depleted its essence while the other grew stronger, the scales of battle naturally tilted.

By the time the demon under the Little Eagle’s claws had been whittled down to a height of about half a meter, a muffled sound echoed from the other side. The Little Wolf’s opponent had its lower body deeply trapped in a sinkhole. Countless ghost vines sprouted from the sand, winding tightly around the demon’s entire body and dragging it downward with slow, inexorable force. The Little Wolf pranced excitedly around the edge of the sinkhole, occasionally darting in to tear off a few bites for a "snack."

The entire battle lasted for nearly two hours. Once the last wisps of spiritual energy were absorbed by the Little Wolf, the two little ones, feeling stuffed, sprawled out on the sand, unable to move a muscle.

***

Pedia opened his eyes, a sharp light glinting in his gray irises. He felt brimming with energy. Although meditation was incredibly comfortable, his precise internal clock woke him right on time. The campfire before him had long since died out, leaving only black ashes that radiated a faint, lingering heat. The snow wolf that had accompanied him to this strange world was nowhere to be seen. Pedia rose with mild surprise and looked around, only to spot a trail of paw prints leading into the distance at the corner of the pool—a clear mark left intentionally by the wolf.

Pedia checked his pack and followed the tracks. After about seven or eight minutes, he heard the faint sounds of battle ahead. He continued at a steady pace, crested a sand dune, and saw the snow wolf below, locked in a struggle with a bizarre monster. Although he had seen all manner of strange creatures in this world over the past ten days, this was the first time he had encountered one so bizarre it was nearly nauseating.

The creature looked as if it had been stitched together from the severed limbs of five or six entirely different species, a sight that made one’s skin crawl.

Without a second thought, Pedia acted on instinct.

He silently recited an incantation and pointed his magic staff from a distance of twenty meters. A burst of earthy yellow light mixed with bright gold landed precisely beneath the monster’s feet. In an instant, the sand beneath the creature solidified into a single, seamless, rock-hard slab.

This was the Solidification Spell, a fourth-tier auxiliary magic. Almost any second-tier novice mage could cast it, but to cast it silently and instantaneously, and to hit a target with such precision from such a distance, was exceptionally rare. It required not only a mastery of magic but also an extraordinary level of spiritual control and combat intuition.

Even so, the Solidification Spell was only a fourth-tier auxiliary magic. The monster’s movements stalled only briefly before it adjusted and tore itself free. Yet, in battle, that split second was all that mattered.

The snow wolf threw its head back and howled, and the gray sky suddenly gathered countless moon-white rays of light, shimmering like lunar essence. After casting his spell, Pedia quickly retracted his staff, formed hand seals, and chanted a rapid succession of incantations. As he recited, a silver magic circle formed beneath his feet, rotating as it rose through his body toward the sky, merging with the lunar light gathered by the snow wolf.

The gray sky was illuminated by a milky radiance. A full moon hung high in the air, and as it turned, specks of silver light drifted down, mingled with the milky glow. The silver light seeped into the sand, marking the ground with brilliant spots. Moments later, seven or eight "natives" buried deep within the sand scrambled out, rolling and screaming in agony. As for the monster that Pedia and the snow wolf had targeted, it stood as if the full moon above had drained its very soul. It stared blankly at the sky, foolishly allowing the silver light to seep into its body, watching as its form slowly grew translucent and dissolved into countless azure rays of light that ascended toward the moon.

Since learning the knight skill "Howling Moon," Pedia had used it at least ten times, but this was the first time he had witnessed such a unique effect. Watching the azure light stream into the "full moon" and dye the silver-white lunar disk a faint cyan, he felt a slight tremor in his consciousness. A strange connection formed with the moon above, followed by a surge of pure spiritual energy flowing from the disk, slowly replenishing his mind and nourishing his spirit.

***

The Imperial Capital, as the capital of the empire, was the center of its politics, economy, and culture. It was so unique that people had cast its original name into the dustbin of history, referring to it simply as the "Imperial Capital." Its long-standing status as the center granted the city an incomparable charm. Countless outsiders dreamed their whole lives of putting down roots there, and many locals took pride in being citizens of the capital, even if many of them struggled at the very bottom of society.

However, not every human was drawn to the Imperial Capital. At least, Baman had always avoided the city. Compared to this decadent metropolis, he preferred the cold and dangerous Northwest Ice Fields. Unfortunately, he now had no choice.

Baman sat at a table in a common bar in the capital. It was located in the mid-range district, a place where the middle class often relaxed after a busy day. Compared to bars in the slums, it featured elegant orchestral music, clean tables and chairs, a comfortable environment, and decent food and drink.

Baman had been sitting at that table for half the day, from the quiet tea hour until sunset, waiting until the bar was at its busiest before an elderly man sat down opposite him.

The guest wore a well-fitted casual outfit, clearly a high-end custom piece, appearing far more comfortable and pleasing to the eye than the off-the-rack clothing usually seen.

"Young Master, why didn’t you send word before coming to the capital? The Master left on a southern inspection last week. If he knew you were coming, he would have certainly postponed his trip." The old man looked at Baman with a gaze that was both respectful and kindly.

"It’s better that he’s gone." The words came out somewhat stiffly. Baman closed his mouth, pressed his lips together, and adjusted his mood before continuing. "During the recent 'Magic Devouring' event, one of my subordinates was caught in a spatial turbulence, along with a snow wolf. Vol said they are safe now. This is a 'spatial imprint' that Vol forcibly intercepted. Please find someone suitable to help me bring that child back."

The old man took the mirror-like object Baman handed him and tucked it carefully into his robes. He then chatted on about Baman’s life, the life of a certain "Master," and other trivial matters, just like any elderly person who grows increasingly talkative with age. Although it was a bit annoying, it nonetheless stirred a sense of warmth in one’s heart. Baman’s expression gradually softened, and he even offered a few words in response from time to time.

Their small talk did not last long. After about half an hour, the old man rose to leave. After saying his goodbyes, he hesitated at the edge of the table, not leaving immediately. This was a breach of etiquette, but the old man couldn't help himself. "Young Master, since you’re already in the capital, why not come home to rest? The Master would be very happy to hear of your return."

Baman’s softened face hardened the instant he heard the suggestion. His expression became cold and rigid, nearly comparable to stone. After a moment, unwilling to make things difficult for one of the few people who genuinely cared for him, Baman forced himself to relax and said, "The defenses at Storm Fortress are demanding. I had to squeeze in the time to come here, and I must leave tonight to return. I won't... be staying."

Baman’s attitude left the old man both pleasantly surprised and somewhat disappointed. However, he quickly regained his composure, reminded Baman to stay safe, and turned to leave.

As soon as the old man’s figure vanished from the doorway of the bar, another figure darted swiftly from the side and sat in the seat the old man had just vacated. (To be continued)