Chapter 443 - 419: Becoming the Wanderer

Chapter 443: Chapter 419: Becoming the Wanderer

He gently patted his throat a few times, helping the stubborn food remnants that refused to go down complete their final journey into his stomach, lest his previous efforts be wasted.

After tidying himself up, he securely fastened the Moonlight Longsword to his waist, pushed open the heavy wooden door, and strode out.

He walked straight toward the center of the camp, in the direction of the gnarled, sprawling roots of the World Tree, which exuded a vast and ancient aura.

Gazing at the World Tree’s roots, which were as majestic as a mountain range and reached up toward the rocky dome of the cavern, Roland’s thoughts began to drift.

Ever since his battle with Corellon, a question had lingered in his mind.

Why had the Surface Elves immediately regained their Casting Ability after Tula’s avatar perished?

It wasn’t until he returned to the Zor Camp and once again personally felt the World Tree’s vast and unique aura of life and Magic that a theory began to take shape.

According to Duadeng, the World Tree was the foundation of existence and the nexus of power for both the Surface Elf and Zor Elf races.

The Zor Elves had been able to regain their Casting Ability after the return of the magic tide precisely because they relied on the World Tree’s revival and nourishment.

And the crown-like circlet Tula had worn, which emanated an extraordinary aura, had energy fluctuations almost identical to the source of the World Tree.

Though the specific reasons and methods were not yet entirely clear, Roland speculated that Tula had likely used that mysterious circlet to somehow forcibly siphon or block the casting authority that the World Tree was meant to grant all Surface Elves, concentrating it all in himself.

That would explain why he possessed Casting Ability and could mobilize immense Magic Power so quickly.

And with Tula’s avatar destroyed and the circlet’s effect gone, the suppressed channel reopened, and the Surface Elves naturally recovered their connection to the magical network.

Having sorted out this connection, Roland arrived in front of the simple wooden house where Duadeng lived, nestled beside a massive root.

The wooden door opened silently. Duadeng stood in the doorway and, as always, bowed respectfully to Roland before stepping aside to usher him into the house.

"Mr. Rudolph, good day. If you are ready, shall we continue with yesterday’s lesson?"

Duadeng’s voice was raspy yet calm.

Roland nodded lightly and sat down in his usual spot.

Duadeng, like a knowledgeable and extremely patient mentor, began to systematically explain the basic principles of spell construction, as well as the Rune structures and Energy channeling methods for some of the Low Tier Spells he knew.

Indeed, for the past three months, although Roland had focused mainly on recuperation, after witnessing Corellon’s extraordinary power, he had never given up on the idea of improving his own strength—especially when it came to the systematic knowledge of Magic he had always longed to master.

The reality, however, was that the Zor Elves themselves had only just regained their Casting Ability, so what Duadeng could teach was currently limited to a few Low Ring spells.

Although Roland, with his excellent comprehension and the aid of his Professional Panel, had already learned most of the spells, their base power was truly limited.

In the high-intensity, fast-paced close-quarters combat he excelled at, hastily casting these Low Tier Spells would not only fail to provide effective support or damage, but might even disrupt his own fluid fighting rhythm due to the casting motions and Concentration required.

But Roland wasn’t disappointed by this.

He knew well that certain spells could have unexpected, wondrous effects in specific situations.

For example, the spell Corellon had used to turn solid ground into a muddy trap.

If used cleverly, its tactical value far surpassed mere destructive power.

Therefore, even though these Low Tier Spells offered a seemingly negligible boost to his immediate combat power, Roland continued to study them with utmost seriousness.

"...The key lies in the instantaneous stabilization of the Energy Rune and the precise projection of Spiritual Power, like this."

As Duadeng explained, he traced a simple Rune in the air with his finger.

Roland focused his mind, calmed his breath, and, following the instructions, mobilized the meager Magic Power in his body while concentrating his Spirit.

After just a moment, a faint glimmer of light appeared at his fingertip, which he also began to trace in the air. It was slow, but exceptionally stable.

In an instant, a structurally complete, evenly glowing sphere of light gradually formed in front of his fingertip. It was successfully activated and began to float slowly around the room at his will.

"Yes, yes! Just like that!"

Duadeng watched the stably formed sphere of light, his crimson eyes filled with unconcealed admiration.

"Your precision in controlling Magic Power is truly astonishing."

At the same time, a familiar line of small, gilded gold text appeared at the edge of Roland’s vision.

[Spell Mastered: Dancing Light Technique. Current Level: Level 1]

After the gilded gold text faded, Duadeng continued his profound-yet-simple explanation of Spell Model construction and the techniques of Magic Power micro-manipulation. Roland listened with rapt attention, occasionally asking a few pertinent questions.

It wasn’t until the familiar aroma of roasted fungi and underground root vegetables faintly wafted in from outside that he realized it was already noon.

Roland took the opportunity to stand and take his leave. Before he left, he mentioned to Duadeng his intention to head to a nearby Caveman camp and requested a guide who knew the way.

Duadeng naturally had no objections and immediately agreed.

After a simple lunch, Roland was led by an assigned, taciturn Zor Elf Scout out of the camp, and they set off at a swift pace toward their destination.

Contrary to what he had imagined, the Dark Nether Realm was not all narrow tunnels; there were also wide subterranean passages.

The only thing that made it completely different from the surface was the eternally enveloping dimness. The only faint light sources were the sporadically scattered glowing moss and fungi on the rock walls, creating a repressive and mysterious atmosphere.

Avril’s intelligence was indeed accurate; this Caveman settlement was not far from the Zor Camp.

After a journey of less than half a day, Roland’s keen Perception had already picked up the scent of living creatures ahead—a mixture of filth and savagery.

He signaled for the Zor Elf guide to wait and rest at a safe spot on the periphery. He then crouched down slightly, suppressed his aura to the absolute minimum, and crept forward silently, like a panther melting into the shadows.

For Roland, whose strength was far beyond the Extraordinary, the process that followed was so simple it was almost tedious.

Using the shadows of the rocks, the cracks in the ground, and the Cavemen’s own lax and lazy guard, he moved along the camp’s periphery like an invisible Death God.

Each brief pause was enough to precisely end the muddled life of a Caveman.

They collapsed before they could even utter a warning.

When he silently slit the rough throat of the last Caveman dozing in a corner, the entire boisterous camp fell into a dead silence.

Roland let out a long breath, his tense muscles relaxing slightly.

Surveying the now-cleansed camp, his gaze swept over the simple hovels built from rough wooden stakes, and then to the more shocking sight: the remains of various creatures, some desiccated and others half-dried, hanging from the eaves and from rock spikes. Among them, he could even make out some small Underground Creatures, and even...

...the vague outlines of humanoids. A flicker of doubt arose in his mind.

’These Cavemen... they don’t seem to be as "timid, greedy, and harmless" as Avril described them...’

He shook his head, temporarily suppressing these complicated thoughts. Roland spread his Perception again and carefully scanned the entire camp. After confirming there were no other survivors, he sat down on a relatively clean stone, far from the corpses.

With a thought, he summoned the familiar, semi-transparent panel.

"Take the Wanderer Profession."