After a while...
Watching the Glintstone Pebbles shoot from the tip of Lloyd's staff, Sellen fell into deep thought.
Her idiot disciple... something was clearly off about him.
He didn't understand a single principle of sorcery—his ignorance was so absolute, it nearly drove even her insane. And yet, without grasping any of the fundamentals, he insisted he had already learned the spell. Thinking she'd get a laugh out of it, she handed him a basic staff—only for him to casually wave it and actually cast Glintstone Pebbles.
He thought it was normal. But in Sellen's eyes, this was so absurd, it defied explanation.
Even setting aside the fact that he had used magic without understanding the theory, the mere act of casting Glintstone Sorcery without wearing a Glintstone Crown was already enough to break her understanding of the world.
Yes, the Glintstone Crown.
The reason mages at the academy all wore that awkward headpiece wasn't because they thought Caria was some kind of fashion capital—it was purely for spellcasting.
As she'd explained in her lectures, Glintstone Sorcery draws on the power within the Glintstones themselves. To do that, you need to carry some Glintstone with you. How closely you're attuned to Glintstone not only affects but can outright determine a Primeval Current sorcerer's spellcasting proficiency.
And the head is the easiest place to establish and channel that connection—hence the Glintstone Crown. After all, who would willingly wear such a clunky thing if it weren't necessary?
Of course, there were exceptions—like the Caria Knights, or the Full Moon Queen.
The Knights had wealth on their side, enough to afford specialized Glintstone gear, which didn't come cheap. As for the Queen—never mind what her towering Intelligence-boosting hat was made of—the thing she held in her arms was none other than "Golden Amber," a material leagues above Glintstone when it came to spellcasting.
Sure, there were also Glintstone Staffs. But the fragment embedded in the staff was minimal and distant—good enough as a casting medium, but far less efficient or cost-effective than a crown when it came to drawing out Glintstone's power. Of course, no one said you could only use one, so most sorcerers used both.
Naturally, if you had a high-level staff, you could skip the crown. But even then, wearing one still gave a decent boost.
But the problem now was that Lloyd wasn't wearing a crown. His staff? Just a bit of Glintstone dust mixed into the tip.
While this made the entry requirements lower, it also meant weaker performance. For a novice, managing even a faint Glintstone resonance would be considered a success.
And yet, with no crown, no Glintstone on his person, no enchanted accessories—just those few fragments at the tip of the staff—he casually waved it and produced a full-fledged spell.
Not just once. And not just one kind. What he did far surpassed the limits of what those fragments could possibly allow.
Forget beginners—even if you brought in two grandmasters, they couldn't replicate that. Their power stemmed from deep communion with Glintstone—some even fused their very being with it.
Had this occurred at the academy, it might have sparked a full-blown crisis—"the collapse of Glintstone Sorcery" wouldn't have been an exaggeration.
And then, once she'd cooled down, another thought struck her.
How did her idiot disciple manage to use Glintstone Sorcery?
Even after months of studying it herself, all she could do was barely mimic its form.
But the crystal in his hand... it was exquisite—refined, beautiful, and completely harmonious.
That definitely wasn't something a beginner should be able to pull off. And judging by what he'd just done...
"Whoa, it can actually fire three times in a row."
Sellen stared at her foolish disciple's dumb grin, then let out a long, heavy sigh.
"Well, guess I'm just unlucky."
What else could she do? He called her teacher—she couldn't just leave the dumb kid to fend for himself.
And putting his words and behavior together, Sellen began to form a vague theory.
This boy might not have had a teacher at all. Or rather, his "teacher" might have been his creator.
A twisted soul, born from some experiment—a constructed anomaly.
If that were the case, then all his strange traits would finally make sense.
"In any case, don't show that crystal to any mages. That includes the Academy faction. Got it?"
"Okay."
Lloyd nodded, then prepared to leave.
On one hand, the spell lesson was over. On the other, Sellen clearly needed rest.
Unlike ordinary folks, sorcerers—descendants of the astrologers—lived by the stars. Every single one of them was a night owl, awake through the night and asleep by day.
Now that morning had broken, after a whole night of research—and half of it spent getting mad at Lloyd's cluelessness—Sellen had earned her rest.
"Next time you come, try to come at night. And think over the things I've taught you whenever you have time."
With that, Sellen closed the door and went to bed.
Lloyd sat at the Site of Grace for a while, then resumed his journey across the map.
Exploring. Fighting. Gathering Runes.
After heading south for a bit, he spotted something strange on a hillside—it looked like a stack of small spheres, topped with a glowing purple eye.
As he got closer, he saw the strange creatures surrounding a round, elevator-like structure. In the center was a glowing magic circle.
When he stepped forward, the system displayed a prompt:
[Do you wish to enter the Evergaol of 'Bloodhound Knight' Darriwil?]
Darriwil? Wasn't that the traitor Blaidd was after?
Lloyd marked the location, then returned to the ruins where Blaidd had been. He wasn't there, so he left a note, suggesting a meeting there at a certain time that night.
Then he continued exploring.
This time, as he passed near a large bridge, he heard a small tree speaking by the roadside.
He walked over and gave it a tap—turns out it was a demi-human who had been transformed into a tree. With that touch, it returned to its original form.
"My name's Boc. I wasn't welcome in the cave, got driven out... then someone turned me into a tree. You really saved me..."
After speaking, he pulled out the only thing he had left—eight mushrooms—and handed them to Lloyd in thanks.
Lloyd took them without hesitation, then looked at him.
"So, are you going back?"
"I... I'll have to think about it..."
At the mention of "going back," fear flickered in Boc's eyes, and his voice trembled.
"I—I need to prepare myself. I'm still really scared of them..."
"Then how about this—you tell me where it is, and I'll go talk to them for you?"
It wasn't easy to find someone he could communicate with, even if they were a demi-human. So Lloyd was willing to help.
Besides, if Boc could talk, then maybe the demi-humans in the cave could too.
…
"I killed them all."
He'd also lit a Site of Grace at some place called the Church of Dragon Communion.
Lloyd returned with a blank face and handed over the sewing needle he'd picked up in the cave.
"They charged at me the moment I stepped in. I tried talking, but none of them listened—so I killed them all."
But Boc didn't seem upset in the slightest. He took the sewing needle and just stared at it.
"This... this is my sewing needle. It was my mother's... her keepsake. Thank you. Really, thank you..."
Watching the demi-human sob in front of him, Lloyd sighed, squatted down, and patted his shoulder.
"Buddy, life's hard for everyone in this world. You're doing better than most. Don't beat yourself up."
He meant it. These days, finding someone who didn't try to attack him after he showed up was rare enough—especially a demi-human.
As for looks, after spending so long in that broken simulated world, Lloyd's sense of aesthetics had long since been corrupted. At this point, unless it was a mass of writhing maggots or some cesspool-born abomination made of filth and junk, he'd even find a Basilisk kind of decent-looking.
"Thank you... you don't have to comfort me. I know..."
Boc choked up, then looked up.
"I'm a tailor. If you ever need clothes mended, just come find me in that cave..."
"Of course, it's free. You're my benefactor, after all..."
"Mm. If I need something, I'll come by."
Lloyd nodded, then watched him leave.
Glancing up at the sky, he figured it was nearly evening. Coastal Cave was a bit of a trek, and even without taking time to fully explore the map, the round trip had eaten up the day.
Time to go meet up with Blaidd.
After running a bit along the map, Lloyd returned to the Evergaol. Off to one side, he spotted a familiar figure.
"You're here?" Blaidd lifted his head as Lloyd approached.
"Hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"Not at all—I just got here."
After a brief exchange, the half-wolf and Lloyd entered the Evergaol, where they met the one known as the "Bloodhound Knight."
So this was the Bloodhound Knight?
Lloyd eyed the figure crouched low to the ground, limbs spread like a beast, one hand gripping a curved blade slung behind his back—he really did look like a bloodhound.
Lloyd pulled out the basic staff Sellen had given him before he left, ready to test his newly learned sorcery.
The battle that followed wasn't much to talk about.
Sure, the Bloodhound Knight had some flashy moves. His combos were smooth, and he was quick on his feet. But compared to Messmer? His aggression was laughable, and his stats were mediocre. Low damage, low HP. If Lloyd hadn't been experimenting with magic, Blaidd alone could've shredded him in seconds.
But after the fight, as they left the Evergaol, Lloyd froze.
He stared at the weapon in his hand—its shape was oddly familiar, and its stats too. He gave it a few swings. It felt incredibly natural.
Bloodhound's Fang.
He blinked.
Wasn't this... the Exile Greatsword?