Chapter Eighteen: The New Magic He Developed

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Johan came from that direction, and on the entire road to Red Hazel Town, he had not encountered a single monster. During his days stationed at the camp, he had only come across some large, well-fed wild beasts; not a single creature possessing magical power or magical skills appeared. Humans collectively referred to any non-human, naturally existing or man-made beings endowed with magical power or magical skills, or any intelligent existence, as monsters.

This was a form of arrogance. Although there were exceptionally powerful individuals among these monsters, humans, by virtue of their numerical superiority across this continent, considered themselves the masters. Naturally, they distinguished those potentially threatening others by naming them separately. A similar situation occurred in the central nations of the Roland Continent, where neighboring and overseas countries were labeled as “barbarian kingdoms.”

Humans were not arrogant about everything, however. For instance, the two mythical races, “dragons” and “elves,” were never called monsters.

“If I have time, I will go and take a look,” Johan said patiently. But if his teacher did not send further instructions soon, he would have to continue his wandering journey.

Places like “altars,” imbued with mysterious significance, were top choices for exploration. Johan’s teacher had compiled a book titled From Mythic Ages to the Evolution of Modern Altars, which recorded numerous altars. At the moment, Johan could not recall if his teacher had documented the altar near Red Hazel Town.

However, Johan remembered quite clearly the record of his teacher being ambushed at an altar.

“I heard many altars are tools to summon Black Souls. You must be careful; they are far more terrifying than monsters,” Lady Ordos said with a timely expression of fear, clutching her chest like a frightened little girl, her lips slightly parted.

Even the tender, moist tip of her tongue peeked out a little, the mature and charming woman revealing a coquettish innocence.

Women sometimes needed to appear naïve and foolish, especially when otherwise shrewd and wise in other matters admired by him. When they said silly things in areas where he was more adept, it only made them more endearing.

Johan laughed heartily, restraining the urge to slip a finger into her small mouth.

“The so-called Black Souls are said to be generated from the evil thoughts of the dead. Places where they gather are called the Black Soul World, Hell, the Dark Realm, and so on. I have indeed summoned Black Souls, and they are not as terrifying as you imagine.”

Johan was unconcerned. An altar that could protect a region and suppress monsters could never be an evil device for summoning Black Souls.

“Just as expected of you, a wizard from a big city with extensive knowledge. In places like ours, even rumors of a single Black Soul are enough to scare most of the town’s population away,” Lady Ordos sincerely remarked. Had she been ten or twenty years younger, she would have eagerly followed this wizard on his travels… provided, of course, he was willing to take her to the big city.

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Johan’s thoughts drifted afar—

The two soon reached the confluence of a hot spring and a river. The waters were wide and comfortably warm, home to a variety of aquatic creatures and freshwater delicacies, including river mussels.

Johan scanned the surroundings and quickly noticed something amiss: by the riverbank stood three neatly stacked snowmen, each about a person’s height.

Earlier in town, he had seen snowmen built by adults and children alike, none reaching more than half an adult’s height.

Had his teacher ever encountered an assassination attempt involving snowmen?

Indeed, his teacher had once faced an ambush by the Frost Moski people in the extreme northern cold region. They excelled in ice and snow magic, disguising themselves as snowmen to lure him into their encirclement before overwhelming him.

During that battle, the Frost Moski tribe recklessly burned their life force to activate their innate abilities, each transforming into ice dragons with endless magical power hidden within the ice and snow, nearly entrapping his teacher in the far north.

Regrettably—

Yemongarde was not a once-in-a-century genius.

Nor a once-in-a-millennium genius.

Nor even a once-in-ten-thousand-years genius.

She was a talent bestowed by the gods since humans first learned magic—a rarity unseen before.

Yemongarde did not follow orthodox magical combat strategies, such as using fire magic to counter ice or wind magic to adapt flexibly to snowy conditions. Instead, she exploited the environment further, lowering the surrounding temperature.

By making the environment even more extreme, she managed to freeze those ice dragons solid!

The Frost Moski tribe’s relied-upon innate power, which had never failed, was thus cracked.

Subsequently, Yemongarde slaughtered most of the tribe, sparing only the old, weak, and sick, whom she handed over to another tribe for care.

She called it protecting a rare tribe, preserving the flame of inheritance for future study and visitation.

Johan could find no further mention of the Frost Moski tribe in his teacher’s travel records. Thinking optimistically, perhaps they were still kept in captivity?

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With this in mind, Johan grew wary of the three snowmen by the riverbank. Acting cautiously, he chanted:

“War Mother of the Avalosa tribe, Queen of Florjord, Aesh’s Divine Arrow—”

He summoned his staff, pointed at the three snowmen, and unleashed a third-tier spell originally named “Triple Ice Arrow.”

“Ah!” Lady Ordos screamed excitedly as she cheered him on.

The three enormous snowmen exploded instantly upon being struck, a tempest of snowflakes soaring dozens of meters into the sky before cascading onto the river’s surface. The commotion startled the lazy winter fish, which flipped their bellies and leaped into the air.

The riverbank where the snowmen stood collapsed several meters, mud and stones tumbling into the water, adding to the spectacle.

“It’s nothing,” Johan said, showing his understanding. He gently drew Lady Ordos into his embrace to comfort her, offering an explanation: “I just wanted to show you greater power. Clearing obstacles to control the Ordos family will be a trivial matter.”

Lady Ordos finally leaned against this young, powerful chest, lifting her head slightly, breathing softly, and gazing at him with admiration.

Yet, Johan felt somewhat vexed. He was merely waiting here for news from his teacher.

He had intended to pass the time by doing a few things according to his own wishes, just playing around. How had it come to feel increasingly like he was playing the role of a scoundrel in an illicit affair?

He then moved to the riverbank.

The collapse had churned up the mud, revealing several large river mussels. Johan casually picked one up, using magic to bring it ashore and placed it on a clean, large stone.

“River Mussel Cleaning Technique—”

These mussels were aged, their shells stained with dirty patterns from the black mud. Johan immediately cast a newly researched spell named “River Mussel Cleaning Technique.”

The mussel was cleansed, and under the disturbance of magic, it instinctively opened its shell to reveal fresh, clean meat inside.

Johan glanced at Lady Ordos.