Thud.
Another dull thud.
In front of Bell, the newly formed dirt puppet’s chest suddenly caved in. Immediately after, its entire body disintegrated with a crash, turning into a pile of loose dust.
“Useless.”
Leovet’s voice came from the other side of the training ground, devoid of any warmth.
Bell knelt on one knee, panting heavily as sweat soaked the black hair on his forehead.
This was already his ninety-ninth failure of the day.
A soul circuit.
It was a term that sounded incredibly complex.
Following Leovet’s vague instructions, he was trying to construct a container within the dirt puppet that could carry a soul.
But every time, just as the thin mana thread was about to complete the closed loop, a tiny misalignment in a node would cause the entire structure to collapse.
It was like building a high tower out of sand; if the foundation was even slightly unstable, the whole thing would topple.
“Your mental energy is like a pile of sludge.”
Leovet leaned back in his wooden chair, casually flipping through the ancient book in his hand.
“You can’t even achieve basic precision, yet you dare dream of creating life?”
Bell bit his lip and didn't argue.
He reached out and condensed another pile of dust from the ground.
No.
At this rate, even if he tried a thousand or ten thousand more times, the result wouldn't change.
What he lacked wasn't practice.
It was knowledge.
It was the most fundamental, underlying principles of constructing a soul circuit.
Antinoia Milia.
The face of the senior with glasses surfaced uncontrollably in his mind.
“Constructing even the simplest soul model requires a massive amount of mental energy and dozens of outrageously complex techniques.”
She knew.
She must know something.
“Thud!”
The hundredth time.
The dirt puppet turned to dust once again.
Bell finally gave up.
He stood up from the ground, dragging legs that felt like they were filled with lead as he walked toward the exit of the tower.
“Where are you going?” Leovet asked without looking up.
“The library,” Bell said, his voice raspy.
Leovet turned a page, the corner of his mouth curling into a mocking arc.
“Finally seeing sense?”
“Fool.”
This wasn't Bell's first time in the Aqua Branch area.
But this time, his goal was clear.
The infirmary.
He needed a guide.
A guide who could help him accurately find Antinoia.
Tia Astane was his only choice.
Pushing open the door to the infirmary, a familiar scent of herbs wafted over him.
Tia was facing away from the door, standing on her tiptoes, struggling to reach a potion bottle from a high shelf.
She was wearing a white assistant uniform, her flaxen curls tied into a playful ponytail that swayed with her movements.
“Need some help?”
Bell’s voice was soft.
Tia’s body stiffened instantly, like a startled rabbit.
She turned around in a panic, and the moment she saw Bell, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
“B—Bell, junior?!”
Her hand shook, and the potion bottle she had just reached for fell straight toward the ground.
Bell was quick, stepping forward in a flash to catch the bottle steadily just before it hit the floor.
The distance between them was suddenly reduced to less than half a meter.
Bell could even smell the faint, herbal-mixed scent of the girl's body.
Tia’s breath hitched.
She looked at Bell, who was inches away—at his face, which was sharp-featured from long-term training yet still held a trace of paleness—and her heart began to race uncontrollably.
“Here.”
Bell handed the bottle back to her and then took a step back to create some space.
“Wh... what are you doing here?” Tia took the bottle, hugging it tightly to her chest, her head lowered as she didn't dare look at him.
“I came to find you,” Bell said bluntly.
Tia’s head buzzed.
He... he came to find me?
A surge of immense joy rushed to her head, making her feel slightly dizzy.
“I... I...”
“I wanted to ask you for a favor,” Bell interrupted her incoherent words.
“I’m looking for Senior Antinoia.”
The flush on Tia’s face faded at a visible rate, turning somewhat pale instead.
Antinoia...
So, he didn't come for me?
A wave of bitterness and disappointment instantly filled her chest.
“What do you need... with Antinoia?” Her voice grew quiet, carrying a trace of an imperceptible tremble.
“I have some questions about magic construction that I want to ask her,” Bell said, choosing his words carefully.
He could sense the change in the girl’s mood, and that tiny, faint trace of guilt in his heart surfaced again.
But he had no choice.
“Is... is that so?” Tia squeezed the bottle in her arms. “Antinoia is... she’s very amazing.”
Seeing her look so downcast, Bell added another sentence on a whim.
“I heard her say a few things on the road the other day, and it felt like she knew a lot.”
“But I still think your healing magic, Senior Tia, is the gentlest magic I’ve ever seen.”
Tia snapped her head up, her watery eyes reigniting with light.
Junior Bell... is he praising me?
He thinks my magic is gentle?
“I... I’ll take you to her right now!”
The girl’s disappointment vanished instantly. She tossed the bottle onto the table and grabbed Bell’s wrist, running out the door.
“She’ll definitely be at the library at this time!”
The Royal Magic Academy’s library was as grand as a palace.
Rows of towering bookshelves reached the ceiling, filled with countless magic tomes.
Tia led Bell through the maze-like shelves with practiced ease, finally stopping in the most secluded corner.
In the corner, a large table was buried under mountains of books.
A girl wearing glasses was buried in the pile of books, holding a quill and rapidly recording something on parchment.
Antinoia Milia.
“Antinoia!” Tia called out softly.
Antinoia looked up. Seeing Tia and then Bell behind her, her brow furrowed imperceptibly.
“Is something the matter?” Her voice was flat, carrying a hint of annoyance at being interrupted.
“Junior Bell has... he has magic questions he wants to ask you,” Tia explained somewhat nervously.
Antinoia’s gaze moved past Tia and landed on Bell.
“Speak.”
One word, short and sharp.
Bell took a deep breath and stepped forward.
“I want to know how to construct a stable, effective soul circuit.”
Antinoia pushed the glasses up the bridge of her nose and set down her quill.
She didn't answer immediately, instead looking Bell up and down.
“I remember you’re a student of the Terra Branch.”
“Majoring in earth element.”
“Soul Construction belongs to the intersection of forbidden magic and holy magic. It has absolutely nothing to do with what you’re studying.”
“Why are you asking this?”
Bell’s heart sank.
As expected, it wasn't that simple.
“I need it,” Bell said, meeting her gaze word for word.
“I need to create an absolutely loyal... soldier that only listens to my commands.”
Antinoia fell silent.
She looked into Bell’s eyes.
There was no curiosity there, no sense of inquiry.
There was only a near-manic persistence, like someone pushed to the edge of a cliff who would grab at any straw at any cost.
After a long while.
She finally spoke.
“Soldier?”
“You call that a soldier?”
Antinoia suddenly smiled. She stood up and pulled a heavy, coverless black ancient book from the top shelf.
Thump.
She threw the book onto the table in front of Bell.
“Want to learn?”
“You can.”
Antinoia pointed a slender finger at a complex magic circle on the page, composed of countless twisted runes that were enough to make one's scalp tingle.
“First, tell me what this is.”
Rate on N.U.
