"Ah, I can't. There's limits to my crafting.", Lancelot explained, "If the weapon's too powerful or complex, around Elite Class level, I can't use it. Also, it doesn't affect living beings and liquids."
Ector nodded, stroking his chin, "As expected, being able to craft using Adept Class material is already extremely useful.... How much Od does it take up?"
Every Emblem, and all magecraft, required Od to use. Everyone's Emblems are distinct and unique, meaning that the Od costs vary significantly.
Normally, the more complex or conceptual one's abilities are, the more Od it consumes.
"For [Crafting]? thirty percent, and for [Analyze], five percent."
"..Eh? That consumption's extremely high." Ector raised an eyebrow "It seems you have a high-cost 'utility' ability."
Lancelot simply nodded.
There were 5 different types of Abilities- Attack, Defense, Movement, Support and Utility.
Attack, Defense, and Movement were straightforward, whilst Support Abilities were those that provided healing or increased the capabilities of certain things, for example- A Fire-Type Emblem could have the ability to shoot out a fireball. The support ability would then increase the size of the fireball, its speed, etc. Usually, these abilities would either have medium-to-high Od consumption.
Utility abilities were simply anything that didn't fit the aforementioned categories.
This was the common layout for many Emblems. However, the Emblem commonly touches upon other aspects as it develops and grows with the user's Class.
"Anyways, do you have any information on that magus who attacked?" Ector leant his head on his palm, in a relaxed posture.
Lancelot nodded, sucking in a breath.
"Her name is Sancho La Mancha, with a blood-flesh related Emblem. She's able to manipulate blood, heal, and take control of people using a piece of her flesh and inscribing a fragment of her soul into it."
"Wait, Sancho La Mancha, the noble?" Ector's eyes widened a little, sitting slightly straighter.
"..A noble..? You know her?" Lancelot blinked.
On second thought, it wasn't that unlikely. Only nobles had last names and the capability to reach Elite Class, so it wouldn't be surprising if she was a noble. and Ector had heard of her.
At the time, he thought it was a middle name or the like, because the sheer impossibility of a noble acting as a mercenary was too great.
Lancelot was smart, yes, but he wasn't an endless well of wisdom- he could still make mistakes.
Ector sighed, rubbing his temples.
"She's caused quite a headache. She's from the La Mancha family, but a few years ago, she joined an underground organisation. We've been tracking her down ever since."
He looked upwards, sighing. "To think she appeared here, in my western jurisdiction.." He muttered, "How troublesome."
"So, it's like that.." Lancelot clenched his fist, "What's the organisation called?"
"The organisation? It's called 'Usurper Covenant'. It's filled with a bunch of psychos and the like, but they're a pretty strong group. Cautious, too, they move their base of operations every month or so."
Suddenly, Ector chuckled.
"Their leader's a pretty shady guy. Apparently, he's trying to become king." He grinned. "Not on my watch, of course. The only one deserving of becoming king is the missing heir, or me."
"Anyways.. you should get some rest." Ector advised softly, his face serious, "You've been through a lot, you need to be in peak condition for tomorrow."
They both stood up, and Ector patted Lancelot's shoulder as he passed by him, stopping at the doorframe.
He turned around, "...You'll have a disadvantage compared to the other participants, I'll lend you an artifact to make up for it."
He turned and left, leaving the door open behind him.
Lancelot stood in the middle of the office for a while, alone, bathing in the orange glow of the sun as he faced the large window.
Slowly, his lips curled up into a smile.
"Guess I can't let you down, then."
Ector shut the door to his room, taking off his overgarments as he sighed,
"He's just like him.." He muttered, "Looks a little like him, too."
He changed into a simple tunic, collapsing onto his bed.
"Did you have a secret son, Vortigern?"
Ector narrowed his gray eyes, which now held a hint of guilt. He turned in his bed, wrapping the expensive blankets around himself.
"And you.. is this what you wanted? The death of those villagers? Vortigern might've not cared, but what would your other older brother say..?"
He clasped a hand over his frowning face.
"What the hell are you doing, Arthur the hundredth..?"
"Wake up!"
Lancelot's eyes shot open, feeling cold steel press against his throat.
"Gah!"
Lancelot jumped out of bed, forehead slick with sweat.
In front of him, Ector grinned, dressed in luxurious garments, a blood-red fur mantle draping off his shoulders, contrasting with the sleek black outfit underneath.
In his hand was an exceptionally dull sword, which he had just pressed against Lancelot's neck.
"You.. fucking.. scared the shit out of me.." Lancelot panted, rubbing his neck as he looked at Ector through his dark blue strands with a mix of anger and lingering fear.
"Yeah, sorry, sorry." Ector shrugged unapologetically, amusement evident on his angular face, "Wash up, the bathroom's downstairs. We'll start going to the exam site in thirty minutes."
After Ector left the room, Lancelot sat back on the bed, anticipation, trepidation, and excitement rampaging inside him.
"Today's the day.." Lancelot narrowed his eyes, smiling, "My future as a magus is decided in this test."
After half an hour, Lancelot stood patiently outside the manor, leaning against the beige-coloured exterior.
He looked around, admiring the lush vegetation and relaxing in the incandescent sun.
Just then, Ector stepped out of the manor, a monocle in his hand and a smirk on his face.
"Here's your 'gift'." he threw the monocle at Lancelot, who deftly caught it.
"Put it on." Ector crossed his arms, his mantle swaying slightly with the wind.
Lancelot held up the monocle, inspecting its simple glass lens, and the shiny golden frame.
He could feel a Practitioner Class aura emanating from it, sensing the traces of Od that leaked out from it.
Artifacts were inscribed with an Emblem, causing them to become extremely useful and valuable, but the process to make one was cruel and dark.
It required a living, breathing magus to be infused into the item, bonding their soul and body to the item.
This was, frankly, inhumane and terrifying. However, it was commonly done to stray magi with no backing.
After all, the thaumaturgical world saw unaffiliated magi as criminals. Without joining a faction, like Ector's, or being a noble, you would be ostracised or hunted down.
Though, you could say there was a reason for this harsh judgement. The organisation 'Usurper Covenant' was a prime example of what happens when you let wild magi flourish; they start causing destruction and the death of countless civilians.
Lancelot could identify how strong/potent the item was via sensing its Practitioner Class aura.
Aura was the excess Od naturally leaking from a magus. It also signifies the Stage/Class the magus is on, letting other magi identify magi and a vague idea of their strength.
This was a problem, but, with extensive training, one could contain these traces of Od, no longer giving off an aura.
Lancelot placed it on his right eye, letting it sit on his eye socket. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the magnification.
He raised his head, looking straight at Ector.
"What..!"
Immediately, Lancelot's pupils dilated, his mouth falling slightly agape.
"..This artifact..!"