The bard fantasized again.

Chapter 78 A Cold Embrace

"Damn it, damn it! What kind of magic is that!?"

As a scholar, aside from the occasional frustration of scratching his hair and cheeks while studying magic, Des rarely had such hysterical moments.

He practically kicked open the door to a dark room.

The smell of blood was strong, but he was already used to it, and could even say he enjoyed it.

This is, after all, a workshop used for disposing of corpses.

The blood that flowed when he cut off the adventurer's legs still remained on the simple wooden table, untouched.

He liked the faint sweetness in blood, just as much as the sour stench of a rotting corpse.

Many people cannot understand his preferences.

But just as he doesn't understand why anyone would like to eat those sickly sweet cakes.

Please, academics are always boring.

The initial motivation for enduring the tedium and studying the mysteries of 'life and death' likely stemmed from personal interest.

"Living people are always cunning, treacherous, and unreasonable. They are quick-witted and always make you think they are treating you sincerely, until they deceive you until you are left with nothing but a stinking loincloth."

“But the dead don’t do that, and you feel safe when you’re with them.”

"Because the dead can't talk."

Before becoming a necromancer, young Des had already taken many detours and realized this.

Therefore, he often digs up people's graves.

On the one hand, it's for survival—

They eat the food offered to the deceased, then pry open their coffins and lie down beside them.

This way, we can both fill our stomachs and find a 'house' to shelter us from the wind and snow.

There are even people 'accompanying' you.

On the one hand, it's because they can live in their own world and refuse to deal with people who are ruthless and cannibalistic.

Until he dug up a necromancer's grave—

Dess remembers almost laughing out loud when he found the spellbook in the tomb.

I never imagined that these great figures who studied 'life and death' would one day be unable to escape the pursuit of death.

So what exactly was the goal they studied throughout their lives?

With this question in mind, he embarked on the same path as that necromancer.

Now, he has the answer:
"It is the soul."

This is also why he was guided to this mausoleum.

"Oh, here it is!"

He fumbled for the medicine in the box, which contained a thin, dark blue liquid, and gulped it down his throat.

This is different from [treatment agents] that accelerate wound healing.

This [Stress Potion] can help the caster recover from mental trauma more quickly.

For example, to recover to full strength, one typically needs about eight hours of rest.

However, drinking a dose of [Secondary Stress Relief] can shorten it to six hours.

Of course, the price will be higher, equivalent to the price of two bottles of treatment potion.

But Daisy couldn't care less about any of that.

Those curses, imbued with a magical power, still linger in his mind.

Although the wound on his forehead was repaired, he still felt a splitting headache.

The trauma of emotional injury also needs stress medication to alleviate.

Otherwise, with a headache, he would be unable to calm down and rest, and restore his depleted spell slots.

"much better."

Once she felt a little clearer, Daisy breathed a sigh of relief.

He immediately left the studio, snapped his fingers, and the torches on the surrounding stone walls burst into brilliant flames, illuminating the dark and empty tomb—

Apart from a large stone platform in the center, the surrounding area was mostly filled with stinking corpses, scattered irregularly.

Those were the adventurers, gravediggers, lost souls he had killed over the years, as well as some unlucky souls who simply died in the wild and were brought back by him.

He stepped over the corpses, hurriedly walked to the stone platform, and lifted the white cloth covering it.

A perfect body was laid bare before my eyes.

She was missing a head, but otherwise there was nothing to criticize.

The two hands placed on his waist and abdomen still tightly gripped a broken sword, and a damp, resentful, and sorrowful aura mingled with the stench of decay in the tomb.

"Very good, no wear and tear whatsoever. We can use the [Restoration Glue] sparingly." Dess breathed a sigh of relief and covered the area with the white cloth again.

"Then take a break. In six hours, memorize some spells that don't require much focus, and try to shut that mouth up as soon as possible..."

The way to rest is very simple.

It's just sleeping.

When the spellcaster quietly drifts off to sleep, his depleted energy will slowly recover.

Correspondingly, the 'formulas' of magic in one's mind are forgotten.

Therefore, whenever a mage wakes up from a dream, he needs to spend some time searching through spellbooks to find the spells he has decided to use that day and to memorize the formulas again.

Dais found the area with the most corpses and lay down on top of several bodies—

This is his bed.

"what……"

An immense sense of security enveloped him, like the gradually stiffening and icy embrace of his mother after a cold, snowy night in his childhood.

He studied the 'life and death' of the world.

I understand that in this world, as long as the soul is immortal, the difference between life and death is merely a smooth and unobstructed bridge.

"So as long as you learn the spells of the soul and find the soul..."

He gradually closed his eyelids.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

That was a beautiful dream.

"..."

Des doesn't remember how long he slept.

In the midst of my dazed state, I suddenly heard a crisp "bang".

It was very slight, yet it acted directly on his heart, causing him to tremble and suddenly awaken—

That was an alarm system set up in advance in the tomb passageway.

It was situated between the temple and the burial chamber, a distance of no more than two hundred feet in total.

In other words, it would only take less than half a minute to run up to him.

"not good!"

Des exclaimed, no longer having time to think about who had seen through the fog and arrived at the tomb.

He was so focused on running back to his studio that he started searching for his last remaining resources.

Although he has recovered some of his energy.

But he also forgot all the magic!

"This is the only one we can use—"

He painfully took out a huge skull.

It took up almost half the treasure chest; it was so big that you had to hug it to hold it in your hands.

The instant Dess stepped out of the studio, a broad and heavy tower shield burst forth from the corridor—

Des could not see who was holding the tower shield.

So he guessed it was a dwarf.

The gravel spotted the terrified 'skull' at a glance and burst into laughter:
"I'd like to see if you can banish me again!"

He rushed down the steps, his steps unwavering, raising his tower shield as he charged toward Dess.

The latter gritted his teeth, threw the skull he was holding into the corpse field, and kept chanting obscure incantations.

Then Shattered Stone realized that the corpses spread out in the tomb were gradually crawling toward him.

A huge, broad shadow gradually covered the firelight of the tomb and also obscured the figure of the 'skull'.

His heart trembled, but courage kept him going:
"[Shield Charge]!"

"puff--"

The enormous impact, along with his tower shield, slammed into a huge chunk of flesh, and the rebound force sent him flying twenty feet away!

As it soared into the air, the rubble couldn't help but shout:
"I hate those fucking giants!"

　Whether we can get to Sanjiang depends on today; it's crucial.

　　Gentlemen, please continue reading!!!

　　Love you all!!!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)