Two more weeks had passed since the ritual. Faust had grown better at recovering his mana while moving, although it was still far from perfect. Right now, he was drawing something on the ground.
Thanks to the ritual improving his mana gathering speed, his talent had risen from extremely below average to merely below average. It was still lacking… but significantly better than before.
His connection with the Plague Bringer lamp had reached about 90%. After the ritual, he was able to link with it faster, partially due to his improved mana recovery.
The key, on the other hand, remained weak, no more than a 3% connection, but it was progressing, slowly.
Faust had also been training the mana bomb technique he learned from the Old Rat Prince, experimenting with new ways to manipulate mana. He knew this was one of his biggest weaknesses.
He developed two new techniques. The first was Explosive Mana Spike, created by combining the detonation property of the mana bomb with the speed of the mana spike. It consumed around 10% of his mana per shot.
There was a problem, though: when turning a technique into an explosive version, its mana cost increased, and it became harder to control. He could likely learn Explosive Mana Bullets, but they wouldn't be very efficient, damaging only the exterior. Piercing a target and then detonating was far more effective than simply scarring the surface.
The second technique, still incomplete, was called Mana Arrows. It was a blend of mana spike's speed and piercing ability with the surface damage of mana bullets. He aimed to achieve both effects simultaneously. This one was more difficult, but he was making progress.
Once he gained a better understanding of mana thanks to the Old Rat Prince, inventing new techniques no longer seemed unimaginable… though it was still far from easy.
But Faust hadn't forgotten his seventh trial. He wanted to reach the eighth. Over a month had passed in the underground, and he had made zero progress toward the trial, which bothered him for two reasons. First, based on the trial pattern so far, rewards had been given during the first and fourth trials. He suspected the next would come during the eighth or ninth.
The armor he had received in the fourth trial was destroyed now, but it had helped him immensely. If the reward for the eighth was better, it would be well worth the effort.
Still, while he wanted to advance, there was no urgent rush. If he could fully control the Plague Bringer, his combat power would rise drastically.
"Finally! Hehehe, this time it's perfect! Perfect!" Faust grinned as he admired his creation. Then he muttered under his breath, "But if every advanced rune takes me that long to learn…"
Etched into the sandy ground was a rune.
Its pattern was beautiful, complex and mesmerizing. Hundreds of squares and triangles, strange letters, circles, stars, and countless geometric forms were intertwined in a design that should've been chaotic… but wasn't. It was a masterpiece, like something drawn by a divine artist.
Six months.
That was how long it had taken Faust to learn and draw his first advanced rune. Though the journey was long, he was satisfied.
A long, arduous path… that's how far he'd come.
Wasting no time, he grabbed the corpse of the Old Rat Prince and threw it into the center of the rune.
He touched the rune with a fingertip and began channeling mana into it. He no longer feared failure. After thousands of attempts, he had grown—correcting every single mistake, step by step—until he perfected it.
Within seconds, mana flowed into the rune. He could feel a connection forming just as he did with the detonation rune.
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, not from fear, but from excitement.
Then, the rune began to glow, as a strong yellow light clashed with the dull gray of the sand. As if gold had been poured onto a lifeless canvas.
Faust stepped back slightly, awe-struck by his own creation.
"Heh… hehehe… I've done it… I've really done it…"
He smiled in satisfaction, feeling a strong link with the rune. He could sense everything within it—specifically, the skeletal body of the Old Rat Prince.
Faust extended his hands and willed:
Devour.
Instantly, a pillar of golden flames erupted from the rune, rising over four meters high in a flash. Within it, multiple red stars glowed in a majestic manner, expanding and collapsing upon themselves, as the wind around the rune began to twist and merge with the pillar, forming a whirlpool of sorts.
But instead of weakening, the pillar continued to glow and rise, reaching over six meters. Despite the storm around him, Faust could clearly see what was happening inside. His hair whipped wildly in the wind, and he raised his arms to shield his eyes from the flying sand.
Although the fire was lively, it was not hot and Faust could easily stand close to it.
The Old Rat Prince's body was being dismantled—fragment by fragment—as the red stars devoured it. Each time a piece was consumed, the stars collapsed inward, and the pillar surged higher, now reaching ten meters.
More fragments appeared, more collapsed, as his skeleton was consumed at an alarming pace.
Then—
The pillar stilled. It stopped growing, and the red stars ceased their collapse.
Instead, they began to merge. The golden fire dimmed, its color shifting to a deep crimson as the structure lost height.
Finally, it fully imploded into tens of thousands of red stars, which surged toward Faust and forced themselves into every part of his body.
Normally, this would be the moment of unbearable pain. But now, there was none. It was soothing, calming, peaceful...
Perfect.
As the crimson stars entered his body, new memories began to form. Nothing about the Old Rat Prince was hidden anymore.
His childhood. His teenage years. His love and his hatred. His memories. His techniques and knowledge. His life and even his death.
At first, he was just a poor child named Linnus, the son of a single mother. Though they had little, they were happy.
His mother left for work early each morning and returned just before the sun had fully set. She worked as a cook for a noble household in the town where they lived.
Years went by, and one day, Linnus's town was attacked by an orc. The villagers were defenseless… but then, an adventurer arrived and, with great difficulty, managed to slay the beast.
That day, Linnus changed. He was captivated by strength and power. He wanted to become someone strong, too.
Eventually, his mother passed away. Grieving but resolute, he used that moment to leave his hometown and pursue his dream of becoming powerful.
Surprisingly adept with mana, he chose the path of a mage.
He joined the adventurers' guild as a temporary recruit and trained every day with all his might, determined to grow stronger.
Years passed. By the time he reached thirty, he had achieved the rank of Silver V. Yet, no matter how hard he trained, he could not break through the wall that separated him from the coveted Gold rank.
Then, one day, he overheard a group of three adventurers talking about an artifact they had discovered in the woods.
He knew it was his opportunity.
When the group ventured out to recover the artifact, Linnus ambushed them. They were all Bronze-ranked, so it was easy.
He killed them, disposed of the bodies, and began searching for the artifact himself. Deep within ancient ruins, he found it—an artifact he later named Plague Bringer.
Over the next twenty years, he continued to strengthen himself and the artifact. He tore through every place he passed, leaving destruction in his wake. His reputation grew, marked by terror and cruelty, until people began calling him the "Old Rat Prince," a title echoing with malice and myth.
But titles meant nothing to him. Only strength mattered.
Eventually, he was ambushed by a party led by a young, white-haired man.
The man's name was unknown, for he was only beginning to build a name for himself. But people had already begun calling him "Yellow Forest," due to his unique use of plant-based mana.
Linnus was forced to flee into a dungeon, where he endured countless trials. But in the end, he fell deep into the underground… where his life finally came to an end by the hands of the white haired youth.
Faust absorbed all these memories in an instant, like rapidly flipping through the pages of a book.
He breathed deeply, a bestial grin stretching across his face. Looking down, he noticed that the Devour Rune and the remains of the Old Rat Prince were gone, as if they had been completely erased.
"The Devour Rune is even better than I thought..."
Faust muttered to himself, then frowned slightly as a more troubling thought crossed his mind.
I hope the way it works on a weapon is different... otherwise, it might be a little hard to use without attracting attention... or maybe the one-use version is simply better. I need to test it when I get a weapon.