Comprehensive network wizard, magic emperor.

Chapter 223 Those Who Pursue the Power of Magic

The astrologer from Blue Bay spent most of the day bouncing in the cabin, patiently waiting for the sun to set below the horizon.

Night fell, and the stars shone brightly in the clear sky. The astrologer went up to the deck, facing the direction of White Stone Island, looked up at the sky, took out a bottle of medicinal oil from his pocket and swallowed it, feeling the magical energy of the whale oil coursing through his blood.

He pondered silently, reciting ancient prayers in a low voice, hoping that the cold energy flowing through his veins would respond to him.

Time passed slowly, and pain began to come from the abdomen. The toxicity of the medicated oil was taking effect, and at the same time, it made the astrologer more focused and excited.

His eyes, which had been gazing at the starry sky, were now unfocused. All his attention was drawn into the flowing blood in his veins. The cold, hard magical energy coursing through his body was slowly warmed by his body temperature, transforming from wild to docile, and he began to accept the astrologer's guidance.

At this point, he imagined lightning in a thunderstorm, his mind immersed in the magnificent power of nature, and his magical energy gradually underwent a strange transformation, showing signs of becoming electric. The astrologer's hair began to stand up, and static electricity flickered on his skin.

Take a deep breath.

The astrologer suppressed this tamed magical energy, forcing it to his right wrist, where it seeped out from a thin scar on the skin and merged into the whalebone bead necklace he wore.

A whale bone bead on the bracelet absorbed magical energy, emitting a barely perceptible, ghostly blue light.

"Phew—" The astrologer drank the antidote, wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve, and looked at the fully charged bone bead on his wrist. The magic contained within could last for nineteen to twenty-four hours, during which he could use it at any time. Once the time was up, the magic would dissipate and the bone bead would be damaged, and he would have to start all over again.

This is the spellcasting technique of the recipients: to bear magical energy in their bodies, to pray for miracles in their minds, and to store spells in whale bones—this has been the way since ancient times.

Magic is the element of miracles; if a reasonable way of applying it is found, it can exhibit near-omnipotent qualities.

Bensoff of the Royal Academy of Sciences discovered that the magical energy of whale oil could be converted into electricity. In even more ancient times, the Poseidon cult, which had long monopolized whale resources, discovered the extraordinary power carried by the flesh and fat of whales and began to try to utilize it.

Not all spells require the recipient to cast them personally, as bearing magical energy is a tremendous burden and cause significant damage to the body.

In order to perform miracles, the priests of the Sea God Cult developed many wonderful little props.

For example, there are atomizing nozzles that can be hidden in sleeves to atomize whale oil into particles and spray them out, which can then be ignited with a small flame. There are also snow-making bags that use saltpeter mixed with whale oil to make a secret medicine that can produce cold air.

Similarly, there is the thunder horn that converts whale oil into electric current using a magnet. This prop has been deciphered and restored by folk magicians and has appeared in many shows.

In addition to developing props, there are also specially developed techniques to cover up traces of fraud.

The Sail Islands possess an ancient folk art form known as magic tricks, which now only survives in some remote areas. Its origins can be traced back to the performance techniques of the ancient benefactors.

The astrologer carried many "magical props" with him. He recalled that when he was young and poor, he made ice by hand by making snow bags and earned a lot of living expenses from a rich man. He has kept in touch with him all these years.

After receiving a telegram from a wealthy friend, the astrologer decided to investigate further.

The recipients are a secret group with deep ties to religious beliefs. Throughout its thousand-year history, the Sail Islands have seen many wars waged under the guise of miracles, almost all of which were related to one or more recipients colluding with nobles and warlords.

The astrologer never intended to persuade his fellow astrologers to return to the right path. After all, he had never experienced the wars caused by the Gifted Ones and did not know the hardships involved. Sometimes he felt that life was short, and that it was not necessarily a bad thing to make a name for oneself and die a heroic death.

What he wanted was to communicate, to share the secrets of magic with new companions, to generate more knowledge, and to pass it on to future generations.

The knowledge of magic has been severely lost. It is said that the ancient and profound magic could create a thick fog that could spread for tens of meters, emit lightning that could actually turn a person into a charred corpse, predict future wars and turmoil, or even walk a hundred steps on water.

The price of casting profound spells is the complete exhaustion of a recipient master's life; this is a great power that can only be used once in a lifetime. And it is not passed down with the user's death.

After a bout of coughing and the abdominal cramps subsided, the astrologer leaned over the ship's railing and vomited a mouthful of blood mixed with stomach acid and food residue.

This is the price of touching extraordinary power. He had long recognized his fate: the life of the recipient is like a piece of wax paper, which can only burn briefly, but can emit a light that illuminates the ages.

In ancient times, those who received the gift wore oak masks and heavy robes. Countless people changed the person behind the mask, all so that this sacred incarnation could walk in the mortal world for a long time.

When the world needs faith, then give your life so that people can witness miracles and gain the courage to move forward.

The astrologer spat out the residue from his mouth, rubbed the scars and beads on his wrist, and looked satisfied and proud.

He stored a spell called "Lightning Touch," formerly known as "Sea God's Whip," which can create a short-lived arc of electricity in the palm of the hand. Touching a living being can cause a period of paralysis, and if the person is weak, it may even kill them. It can also be used to treat heart patients.

This spell was given as a gift to the other recipients in Stone Tower Town, to demonstrate his abilities.

In the early hours of the morning, the ship docked at Jinbei Port.

The astrologer found a hotel to rest and planned to meet the deputy director at the agreed location at the port at noon the next day.

They embraced warmly and patted each other on the back.

The deputy director looked sadly at the astrologer's graying temples, the fine lines on his forehead and around his eyes. He remembered when they first met, his friend was still a rough and unruly teenager. "How did you age so quickly?"

"My life is as short as a mayfly's. I was born later than you, and I will die earlier than you." The astrologer smiled with his aged face, appearing exceptionally wise.

"Holy Father, may the old man protect you, my good friend."

"I don't believe in the five gods," the astrologer rolled his eyes.

"It's alright, whether you believe it or not, I will pray to the old man for you. You will have good luck."

The deputy director took the astrologer out for coffee and, in a low voice, recounted the heretical events in Stone Tower Town. This information, which couldn't be fully conveyed in a few words over a telegram, left the astrologer's eyes wide with astonishment.

"So, is the source of heresy 'you' kind of people?"

"I don't know. It's hard to say." The joy that had been building in the astrologer's eyes slowly turned into something else; his eyes drooped, his brows furrowed, and he remained silent.

He finally spoke after being urged repeatedly by the deputy director.

“If even one percent of what you say is true, it means there’s a group of ‘mages’ in that town who are far superior to me.”

"That's an exaggeration?" The deputy director's tone relaxed. "Then it must be a fabrication."

"Don't make assumptions. Let me see it with my own eyes before I draw any conclusions."

“I’ll go with you. Neither of us has been to Shita Town before, so the locals won’t be wary of us.”

The desolate path leading to Shita Town had been widened by the tracks of carriages and horses. What was once a narrow path used only by workers going to and from get off work was now sparsely overgrown and had become a wide thoroughfare. The deputy director and the astrologer got off the taxi and paid the fare.

"You're here for a medical checkup too, aren't you!" the coachman shouted. "See that white lighthouse? Head over there!"

"I know, thank you."

The coachman grinned, revealing a set of finely crafted false teeth. "Look," he said, "the Night's Watch gave me these teeth. Aren't they beautiful?"

"It's beautiful, it's beautiful! Okay, goodbye!"

The two first went to the source of the heresy problem, the Stone Tower Church.

The astrologer looked at the openly displayed painting and laughed, "Look, the old man who protected me is now the head of the family. Your beloved Father has become his eldest son."

The deputy director crossed his arms and only began to complain after leaving the church: "Is this a topic for jokes? This isn't a religious issue, it's a political one! If it's not handled properly, people will die, a lot of people will die!"

"Forgive me, perhaps because I myself am half-dead." The astrologer coughed twice, prompting his companion to apologize repeatedly.

As they strolled through the town, they came across a construction site on the riverbank and heard from other tourists that a waterworks was being built there.

Even in winter, the construction team is still busy and sweating profusely. A bright blue banner hangs between two wooden poles, shining like a piece of sky cut off.

The deputy director curled his lip, "The fabric is not bad, but I guess they added fluorescent powder during the dyeing process."

The astrologer's lips trembled slightly, and his murmurs were faint.

Next, they visited local houses. Some old houses had gray patterns crawling on their walls, which were not clearly visible from a distance and looked like withered ivy. Only when they got closer could they see that they were steel that had seeped into the cracks in the walls.

The deputy director rubbed his chin, unable to understand how the construction team had managed to pour molten iron into the container without leaving a single trace of dripping on the surface.

He looked at his friend beside him and asked, "You can definitely do this too, right?"

The astrologer gently stroked the wall without saying a word.

Why are you silent?

“I see it,” the astrologer said in a low voice.

"what?"

"Fire, fire soaring into the sky."

"Is there going to be a fire here?" the deputy director asked warily.

The astrologer shook his head, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed slowly. "I'm not talking about the flames of nature. I'm talking about the flames of faith. You can't stop them from burning. Those who receive the gifts have always been the ones who ignite the flames, allowing people to see miracles and believe in the existence of great forces in the world."

"Yes, I know that." The deputy director suppressed his unease.

“What you are seeing now is a great power. It is greater than me, greater than my friends and mentors, and perhaps even more incredible than the sacred incarnations of the ancient sea god cult. People will witness this flame; the fools will be deeply terrified, and the wise will pray to it.”

"Hey, I asked you for help to expose this conspiracy and scam, not to surrender."

"It's no use, I can't do it."

“You are a warrior, do not succumb to fear. Listen, together we will find the mastermind, and then I will go to Jinbei to mobilize the army and wipe out the heretics.”

The astrologer began to sob, “You don’t understand. You understand nothing, you fool. We have been groping and wandering in the dark for thousands of years, and now, the ladder to a higher level is right before us, right here.”

"My mentor and I, along with countless predecessors, have longed for this day for far too long. Countless mayflies have perished, yet we still chased hope. The flame has been lit, and my life will also rush toward the light. You cannot stop this from happening."

The deputy director took two steps back, his eyebrows raised, his eyes fixed on his colleague, and asked sternly, "What are you going to do!"

The surrounding people and tourists were drawn by the angry shouts and turned to look.

"I'm sorry." The astrologer wiped away her tears and gently touched her friend's shoulder.

Before everyone's eyes, a flash of dark blue lightning streaked across the sky, and the deputy director's body stiffened, collapsing like a wooden stick onto the astrologer's arm.

Gasps and screams erupted from all sides.

Before long, the militia rushed over, arrested the astrologer who remained unresisted, and sent the deputy director, who had been electrocuted, to the lighthouse for emergency treatment.

The scarred sailor led the team to apprehend the perpetrator. He took the astrologer to the town hall's police office and coldly questioned him about his motives.

“I wish to meet your gods. Do not pretend you do not understand, sir.”

Scarface gave him a deep look, locked the astrologer in the detention room, and then went to the church to visit the old priest.

At this moment, the lighthouse.

When the deputy director, who had been knocked unconscious by the electric shock, woke up, he lay on the bed and groaned softly, "Damn it..."

He opened his eyes and looked around, meeting the gaze of the red-haired baboon standing beside the bed. Startled, he fell to the ground, and laughter erupted all around. The patients sitting on the first floor of the lighthouse, with needles stuck in their bodies, pointed and whispered about the foolish man from Hongdu.

The red-haired baboon lowered its head and walked away, hiding in a corner of the room.

"Where am I? Who are you?" The deputy director struggled to check his belongings.

“The Lighthouse.” The night watchman, who was treating patients, didn’t even turn his head. “These are all my patients, including you.”

"And what about you? Who are you?" The deputy director was confused and his gaze was unfocused.

“Me?” Lin Bo began inserting the needle, and the patient gasped softly. He said, “I am the lighthouse keeper. You’ve been looking for me for many days. Welcome to town, Jeway Pave.”

When the deputy director heard his name spoken by the night watchman, he suddenly felt his blood run cold.

(End of this chapter)