Master Thorin the Golden Dwarf's smithing mastery was nothing short of divine. His craftsmanship was so refined that he could forge perfectly precise components by hand alone, matching the tolerances of modern industrial machinery.
It was for this reason that every weapon leaving Thorin's smithy was of extraordinary quality. Equipment of the same type performed at least 30% better than anything produced by the other smithies in town.
The price, naturally, was also 50% higher.
This time, however, Orum and Felix had brought their own rare core materials, so the cost was substantially reduced. They needed only to pay a fair labor fee.
After carefully examining the shattered remains of the hell halberd, Master Thorin confirmed his reforging approach and decided to craft a great halberd for Orum.
In Master Thorin's view, the original pitch-black halberd had already been of a virtually perfect design. All that was needed was to faithfully replicate it, scaled to a length and size suited to Orum's build.
Faced with this flame-steel metal of astonishing density, unlike anything he had ever encountered, Master Thorin erupted into the creative fervor unique to dwarven craftsmen. He slapped his chest enthusiastically and promised that he would work overtime day and night, guaranteeing the great halberd would be completed within half a month.
The two men stepped out of the sweltering smithy, and Felix quickly ran through the numbers for Orum:
"The market value of this batch of flame-steel is 600 gold coins, and Master Thorin's labor fee is 150 gold coins. Once you receive the new halberd, go find Nicolas to settle the accounts. With the company's generous subsidy factored in, it won't cost you much at all."
"Understood." Orum accepted the Ice Hawks Company's benefit without any pretense of refusal.
After all, his previous weapon, the snow-patterned steel sword received from Dorian, had been destroyed during a mission.
The Ice Hawks Company's regulations were clear: members were responsible for their own weapons and equipment, including routine wear and tear on missions. If a weapon was damaged or needed replacing during a mission, however, the company provided a generous reimbursement subsidy.
On balance, Orum found the Ice Hawks Company's weapon reimbursement policy quite reasonable.
Of course, it required a leader with deep pockets and the willingness to invest for the long term, before such a model could be sustained.
"Captain, what are our plans going forward?" Orum looked toward Felix and asked.
"Rest and recovery for now. No more missions." Felix shook his head, his tone calm and measured. "I need time to fully assimilate the dragon blood that was awakened inside me. On top of that, Raygore's power grew again after the last battle, and he also needs a period of adjustment to master his changed body."
A faint smile touched the corners of his jade-green eyes. "The last time his power surged, he crushed a cup in his hand right there in the tavern in front of everyone. Ronald never let him hear the end of it."
"And besides..." Felix's tone shifted, turning serious.
He slowly raised his gaze toward the distant sky. At some point, the clear heavens had been completely swallowed by a boundless gray overcast. The thick cloud layer stretched across the firmament like a great iron dam, radiating a suffocating sense of oppression.
"The rainy season is coming to the kingdom's southern border. Once it starts, torrential rain will fall without pause for half a month. When that happens, the creatures in the forests will grow far more frenzied from the dampness and darkness, far more dangerous than usual."
...
Deep in a stretch of wilderness ringed by dense mountains and forests, a light drizzle fell as though a soft veil had been drawn across the world. The moist air carried the fragrance of earth and vegetation, and the silence was so complete that one might almost imagine they had already died.
The rain cascading endlessly from the gray overcast sky quickly soaked Orum through to the skin. His clothes, trousers, and shoes all clung to him, heavy and sodden, bringing a persistent discomfort.
Fortunately, summer rain was nothing like the bone-cutting chill of winter, and the droplets landing on him carried only a faint cool dampness.
Before Orum, the skeleton sitting atop a gravestone had no such concerns. However thick the rain fell, it simply passed through her slender white bones without resistance, leaving not the slightest trace of moisture.
At this moment, Orum was carefully cupping a small pouch of grayish-white, faintly luminous powder in both hands, bringing it close to the hollow where the skeleton's "nostrils" would have been.
After twenty seconds of silence, the skeleton asked, puzzled: "Why are you doing that?"
"Didn't you say you needed to absorb it?" Orum blinked, tilting his head.
"Ah, I can absorb it through my hands. I don't need my nose."
"I see." The realization dawned on Orum at once. He adjusted his position, kneeling on one knee beside the skeleton and extending the powder-filled hand beneath her pale bony palm, their fingers interlaced as she directly absorbed the soul-magic contained within.
At the same time, Orum leaned forward, using his body and his other arm to shield the falling rain, doing his best to keep the droplets from landing on the precious powder.
This was a small pouch of finely ground unicorn horn powder, obtained by Lila through a special channel from a reclusive retired adventurer at a low price, costing fewer than twenty gold coins in total.
While the magical power it contained was far less potent than a complete and freshly harvested unicorn horn, for a skeleton mage who had been desiccated for a hundred years, it was like a heaven-sent rain upon parched earth.
As her bony palm continued to absorb, the grayish-white powder visibly darkened and blackened at a pace the naked eye could follow, ultimately dissolving into a flurry of weightless ash that scattered away on the damp breeze.
At the same time, a faint, soft luminescence slowly spread across the skeleton's crystalline bones, rendering every last one more lustrous and white.
Seeing the changes that came over the skeleton's body, even without asking, Orum could feel that the unicorn powder had taken effect.
The skeleton's dark eye sockets, like two deep and hollow caves, were calmly "regarding" Orum. Her rasping voice followed:
"About one percent of my memories has been restored."
"Thank you sincerely for your help. I will honor my promise and open the path of magic to you."
"I will begin by teaching you the most fundamental spells, to lay your foundation."
"But before that... there is one question I would like to ask you."
"Why do you desire to become a mage?"
The skeleton's unseeing "gaze" was long and deep, as though piercing through centuries of time and dust, sending its inquiry directly into the depths of Orum's soul.
Orum paused at the question.
He had to admit that before this moment, he had never truly thought seriously about it.
Now, the skeleton's question felt as solemn as a rite of passage. It was not something to be brushed aside with a casual answer.
After a brief moment of reflection, Orum replied:
"Because... a mage is the profession closest to the fundamental source of the world."
"Only by becoming an Archmage beyond legendary rank can one truly come to understand how all things in existence operate, and glimpse the ultimate mysteries of the universe."
After a short silence of twenty seconds, the skeleton continued to regard Orum, speaking in an even tone:
"That is a dishonest answer."
"I do not see in your eyes the kind of burning curiosity a legendary mage possesses, the sort that could consume everything and stop at nothing."
The skeleton's luminous palm rose and gently pressed against Orum's forehead. A clear radiance spread out like ripples on water, reflecting back from his eyes.
"On the contrary, your eyes conceal a flame, burning like a fire of vengeance, yet wavering with such uncertainty that anyone who draws near you feels a tremor in their heart."
"Your emotions are far too intense. Without the crown of reason to govern them, you will find the path of magic an arduous struggle, and may even suffer a backlash."
"You have clearly already mastered martial techniques and could become a warrior renowned across the continent. I still advise that if magic truly interests you, you ought to make it a supporting ability rather than your primary pursuit."
"Thank you for your counsel." Orum inclined his head slightly, answering with composure.
He harbored no concern about things like magical backlash. Whatever enormous risks and heavy burdens arose, the panel would shoulder them.
The skeleton then proceeded to explain in detail how one would go about obtaining the profession of Necromancer within her system.
"Beyond basic professions, many special professions require not only mastery of spells and proficiency in martial techniques, but also the acquisition of specific 'Feats' through trials or awakening."
"Each Feat is a condensed crystallization of one's past experiences and innate talents. For example, a well-trained and physically powerful warrior might thereby acquire Feats such as 'Hardy,' 'Brutal Brawler,' or 'Heavy Armor Mastery.'"
"Likewise, a mage seasoned by long campaigns on the battlefield might one day acquire Feats such as 'Battlefield Caster' or 'Spell Sniper.'"
"Then there are rare prodigies who are born already possessing innate Feats such as 'Light Element Affinity' or 'Captivating Aura.' These natural talents correspond to certain rare and exceptional professions that are entirely beyond the reach of ordinary people."
The skeleton paused for twenty seconds after each sentence, explaining at a pace that could only be described as glacially slow. Orum, undistracted, absorbed the knowledge about "Professions" at full speed.
The difficulty of obtaining each profession varied, but as a general rule, the greater the number of spells, martial techniques, and Feats required, the more the difficulty of obtaining it grew exponentially.
Among all professions, "Necromancer" ranked as one with a notably high bar for entry. It required mastery of three spells and possession of three specific Feats.
The three required spells were:
First-Circle Spell: Corpse Speak,
First-Circle Spell: Corpse Puppetry,
First-Circle Spell: Bone Armor.
Among these, "Corpse Speak" was a diminished version of the third-circle spell "Speak with Dead."
Unlike "Speak with Dead," which allowed up to five questions to be asked, "Corpse Speak" could only barely compel the corpse to emit a single sound, formed from the most powerful thought or feeling the deceased held at the moment of death.
In the vast majority of cases, a corpse under the effect of "Corpse Speak" would only produce agonized wails: things like "Aaah," "Urgh!" "It hurts so much," or "Died happy," utterly devoid of any useful information.
Yet for a Necromancer, "Corpse Speak" was a necessary prerequisite spell for the profession, essential for deepening one's understanding of undead creatures.
The three Feats required to become a Necromancer were, respectively:
"Soul-Fire Affinity," "Deathly Vision," and "Lord of the Dead."
Among these, "Lord of the Dead" was the most difficult Feat to acquire. It required the aspirant to construct a charnel ground of their own, and within that territory, to rule over more than one hundred medium or large undead creatures.
Constructing such a charnel ground was no simple matter. It required not only a secluded and expansive plot of land, undisturbed by outsiders, but also a continuous supply of various corpses and bones to nurture the deathly atmosphere of the place, allowing undead creatures to rise from it one by one.
Although raising undead such as zombies, wraiths, and skeletons was considerably more economical than a hunter raising savage beasts, since they required no daily consumption of large quantities of fresh meat and placed no serious burden on supplies, it still demanded a considerable outlay of gold coins to purchase the various materials needed to sustain the dark energy field blanketing the entire charnel ground.
Fortunately, Orum had recently taken in a handsome sum and had no immediate need to worry about finances.
After the skeleton had explained the details of obtaining the Necromancer profession, a gleam flickered in Orum's eyes, and he put forward a plan that could only be described as audacious:
"I have heard that a profession-holder can possess two professions simultaneously. So I intend to obtain both Necromancer and Warblade at the same time."
"Two... professions?" The skeleton's eye sockets seemed to seize up at this outlandish idea, or perhaps she simply had a slow reaction.
After a prolonged silence of many tens of seconds, the skeleton slowly said: "I advise against this."
"While the limit for a profession-holder is two professions, only a handful of individuals have ever had the energy to advance in both simultaneously and cultivate both to a high level."
"Furthermore, among those who have possessed two professions pointing in fundamentally different directions and reached legendary rank in both, not a single precedent exists in all of history as I know it."
"Seeking to obtain a mage profession and a warrior profession at once will only cause your energy to be divided fruitlessly, with each ultimately hindering the other."
"By that point, you would need to invest enormous amounts of time every day memorizing spell tomes, carving complex spell models into your mind. And after that, you would still have to devote an equal measure of energy to tempering your martial techniques and forging your body. Such an approach will only mean twice the effort for half the result."
The skeleton was silent for a long while, as though lost in deep contemplation. Finally, she raised her pale skull and said to Orum:
"For this reason, I believe you should abandon entirely the notion of becoming a Necromancer, and instead devote yourself wholeheartedly to the path of a melee profession. That is the choice most suited to you."
"Moreover, the school of Necromancy carries numerous flaws and prohibitions, and most people would find its cost difficult to bear."
Hearing the skeleton's words, Orum's expression shifted, and he asked:
"Skeleton sister, do you think the school of Necromancy is inferior?"
The skeleton's skull snapped upright, and she answered without the slightest hesitation: "No. Necromancy is the greatest school of magic. Nothing can compare to it."
It was plain to see that the skeleton was unusually agitated in this moment. Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, she nearly rose from her seat atop the gravestone:
"Those common, unenlightened souls simply cannot comprehend the profound truth and greatness of Necromancy!"
After that, the skeleton threw open a floodgate of words that had been pent up for a hundred years, and began to recount the grand and sweeping history of Necromancy.
She spoke of how the great Necromancer Visahlen ascended to become the God of Liches, then of the magnificent Kingdom of the Dead located in the Underworld, narrating the whole of it in a telling so vast and magnificent that Orum's eyes lit up with wonder, his sense of the world expanding beyond its previous confines:
"So it really is true. Necromancy is the greatest school of magic in the entire field of magical study!"
"That's right! Necromancy is the greatest school of magic in the entire field of magical study!" the skeleton repeated emphatically, brimming with excitement.
Once the skeleton's emotions had gradually settled, she extended one luminous finger bone and traced shapes in the air before Orum, forming three translucent circles:
"Now I can teach you the most fundamental entry-level spells, three in total. Choose one to learn:"
"Mage Hand, Summon Familiar, Magic Missile."
A faint smile seemed to take shape in the skeleton's hollow eye sockets, as she asked Orum:
"Which would you like to learn?"
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~ Push the story forward with your Power Stones