Chapter 639 - 539: Short Spike Forged, a Backup Weapon

Chapter 639: Chapter 539: Short Spike Forged, a Backup Weapon

During this period, he underwent several more follow-up conditioning rituals.

As the stubborn Dark Marks deep within his soul were gradually smoothed over and healed, his Spiritual Attribute—which had been in continuous decline and even showed signs of plummeting—finally stopped draining away and steadily recovered to its proper level.

His closely related Casting Ability, along with the various Traits and Skills dependent on his Spiritual Power, were like a blade wiped clean of dust, gleaming once more with a smooth, sharp brilliance.

The flow of his Spiritual Power was no longer sluggish; wherever his thoughts led, his Magic Power responded as if it were an extension of his own limbs.

That solid, replete sense of Power, born from the integrity of his soul, was once again his to command.

At this moment, his condition was the best it had been since leaving the Northern Domain of Aiselon. It could even be said that he had returned to his peak form for his current stage.

With this, he felt a much greater sense of assurance for the upcoming, perilous journey to the Broken Star Sea.

Just as his thoughts turned to his upcoming journey and preparations, a rough, urgent voice like a clap of thunder boomed from the front yard, shattering the tranquility of the back.

"Rudolph! Quick! Come take a look! That weird-looking Short Spike you pulled off those octopus heads changed color!"

Before his voice had even faded, Holland’s tall figure had already hurried around a pile of forging blanks and appeared at the entrance to the backyard.

His face was a mixture of excitement and astonishment, and he waved his large, fan-like hands forcefully, as if shooing away some invisible anxiety.

"Old Copper Hammer just called for me! He said the final Quenching process is done and told me to get you right away!"

Upon hearing this, a sharp glint flashed in Roland’s eyes.

"Thanks, Holland."

After his quick reply, Roland turned to Ellis, who had yet to fully recover from the shock of the earlier Magic demonstration, and gave him a slight nod.

"Ellis, we’ll continue our discussion on Magic later."

With that, he delayed no further, striding with a steady gait through the heavy, iron-bound wooden door toward the heart of the forge, from which he could feel the furnace’s heat and hear the faint sound of hammers.

Watching Roland’s figure disappear behind the heavy, iron-bound wooden door, Holland rubbed the coarse stubble on his chin. With an undisguised, smug grin on his face, he sauntered over to the still-dazed Ellis.

"So, what do you think, Little Mage?"

He nudged Ellis with his elbow, his voice dripping with mischief.

"See? Told you, didn’t I? You can’t judge that Rudolph fellow by any normal standards. That whole ’gradual progress, talent plus hard work’ theory you have from the academy doesn’t necessarily apply to him. Ready to admit you lost the bet, eh?"

Ellis shot Holland an annoyed glare, his refined face a mixture of frustration and residual shock.

He didn’t argue. Instead, he silently fumbled for a moment inside the well-made but dust-covered Magic Material Pouch at his waist before pulling out a Golden Crown.

Even in the dim light of the forge’s backyard, the gold coin still glinted with an alluring luster.

This coin was part of his share of the loot from the Heartstealer, which had been distributed with Roland’s approval.

After leaving the Ivory Tower and experiencing the hardships of the real world and a scarcity of resources, Ellis was no longer the academy’s star pupil with no concept of money.

Now, as he watched this Golden Crown—which represented a significant amount of research funding or a comfortable life—about to fall into Holland’s rough palm, a clear look of anguish inevitably flashed in his eyes.

"Take it!"

Ellis slapped the coin into Holland’s outstretched palm with more force than necessary, his voice tinged with unwillingness.

"You win! Happy now?"

He put away his pouch and furrowed his brow, muttering under his breath as if talking to himself, yet also as if asking Holland for an answer he knew he’d never get.

’That Rudolph fellow... who in the world is he? This is the eighth First-Ring Spell this month that he’s learned just by seeing it once!’

’And the Force Field construction and stability requirements for Mage Armor are far more delicate and complex than for Magic Missile or the Oily Technique! And what happened? He succeeded on his first try! His execution was even better than mine, and I’ve been practicing it for years...’

Ellis seemed to want to complain more—about how this completely shattered his understanding of Arcane Magic, or how he suspected Roland had learned it long ago and was just playing dumb.

But in the end, all his words dissolved into a long, helpless sigh.

He rubbed his temples, feeling as though his entire worldview needed some time to piece itself back together.

Holland, however, had no time to indulge the young mage’s academic breakdown.

He cheerfully brought the Golden Crown, still warm from Ellis’s hand, to his lips and gave it an exaggerated puff of air before contentedly stuffing it into his own leather pouch, which now looked a bit fuller.

He then raised a thick brow, his brown eyes filled with mirth and an "I-knew-it-all-along" smugness.

"His background? Heh, that’s not our business."

Holland clapped Ellis on the shoulder with enough force to make the younger man stagger.

"What’s important is that with a boss like him, we get into fights, we get a cut of the money, and we get to see a few ’surprises’ from time to time. Now *that’s* what makes the adventuring life exciting!"

"What are you thinking so hard for? Come on, let’s go! We should go up front and see what’s become of that octopus-head spike!"

Not taking no for an answer, he slung an arm around the still-brooding Ellis’s shoulders and half-pushed, half-dragged him toward the noisy forge in the front yard, his hearty laughter echoing amidst the lingering metallic scent of the backyard.