New Life As An Overpowered Mage With Infinite Classes

Chapter 17 : Spirit Catalyst Trap

"What information?"

"Apparently it came from a merchant claiming to offer 'special channels.'" Arnor's tone was tinged with unease.

"These kinds of messages have been circulating widely among the Initiates lately. The merchants claim they can drastically boost spirit power in a short time."

Robb's mind sharpened. "So Locke was duped?"

"No. It's worse than that."

Arnor shook his head. "Those banned substances really can enhance spirit power in the short term. But the cost is..."

He didn't finish, but Robb had already pictured the writhing flesh and the ceaselessly trembling eyeballs.

"I've heard that these merchants may have mages backing them."

Arnor continued. "They need a large supply of test subjects, and desperate Initiates make the perfect targets."

Robb felt a jolt of alarm. So Locke had been marked as prey from the very beginning?

Then another thought struck him, right after Locke's incident, people had been whispering nearby about the "special channels" for obtaining Spirit Catalysts. The timing was suspiciously convenient.

"So I'm here to warn you..." Arnor's voice turned deadly serious. "No matter what temptation comes your way, do not touch anything of unknown origin."

"Don't worry, I'm not that foolish." Robb managed a strained smile. "Haven't I already found the right path?"

Arnor nodded with a hint of relief. "True. Your talent in potioneering has been acknowledged by Lord Hadrian himself, and your training in the Solar Breath is going smoothly..."

"That said..." he abruptly shifted gears. "How are you planning to handle Lady Elena's instruction today? She's notoriously strict."

"Well..." Robb glanced at the notes on his desk. "I've already reviewed everything in Introduction to Potioneering related to basic potions."

He picked up a notebook crammed with dense handwriting and gave Arnor a quick look at his understanding of various ingredients.

"And yesterday's hands-on work at the herb shop gave me fresh insights into a lot of materials."

Arnor took the notebook and flipped through it, surprise crossing his face. "You compiled all of this yourself? You've even documented the reactions and behaviors of rare ingredients in this much detail..."

Just then, a burst of chaotic commotion erupted outside, punctuated by several stifled gasps of alarm.

"Not again..." Arnor's expression darkened instantly, and even his habitually elegant tone turned hoarse.

The two exchanged a glance. Disturbances at this hour usually meant someone with no way out had chosen the road of no return.

"Should we go look?" Robb asked hesitantly.

Arnor's fingers unconsciously fidgeted with the edge of his collar, a habit that surfaced whenever he was torn.

But in the end, he nodded slowly. "Let's go. It's worth seeing. But keep your distance. At times like these, those white-robed mages short on test subjects always show up right on cue."

By the time they reached the end of the corridor, a crowd had already formed. Though it was still dark out, no one who lived here was truly idle.

Unlike the earlier incident with Locke, this time everyone maintained a deliberate distance, as though fearing something.

Under the flickering glow of mana crystal lamps, Robb saw a twisted human shape curled up in the corner.

Morning light crept through the window lattice, falling across a face that had once been delicate and feminine, but was now contorted into something that made the blood run cold.

"It's Emily..." someone identified her first.

The name sent a shock through Robb.

Just yesterday afternoon he'd seen this Duke's daughter. Though disheveled, she'd still been wearing her expensive silk gown, a gemstone necklace around her neck.

Even after her status had fallen to that of a servant, the noblewoman had clung to her aristocratic grace.

But now...

Emily's face had become unrecognizable. Her body was contorting in ways that defied nature. The costly silk gown was soaked through with sweat, clinging to her skin and tracing grotesque outlines.

Something seemed to be squirming inside her, warping her once-slender figure into something twisted and alien.

"I heard she went to Apprentice Marcus's room just a few days ago..." a female apprentice whispered.

"Heh. Emily was never the type to give up. She's been dreaming of becoming an Elementary Apprentice all along..."

"Of course. It was selling her body for Mana Crystal Fragments that let her afford the Spirit Catalyst in the first place."

"What a waste. I remember how proud she was when she first arrived, said something like 'even if I end up as test material, I'll stay here no matter what.' And now look..."

The chatter died abruptly. A tall figure in white robes had appeared at the far end of the corridor. A contemptuous snort issued from behind the mask.

"Another wretched fool who doesn't know her limits."

The white-robed mage's voice carried not a shred of emotion. "I've been researching a new transmutation formula recently. Was just short a suitable test subject."

With a casual wave, an invisible force enveloped the already-mutating Emily, preparing to carry her away.

Under the mage's rough handling, the girl's once-delicate features twisted further under the binding pressure. The gemstone necklace dug deep into her gradually swelling neck.

At that moment, she struggled weakly and raised her head toward the watching apprentices.

Robb noticed that those beautiful eyes, once as clear as polished gems, were now laced with blood vessels like a spider's web.

Within that crimson haze, something grotesque could be seen endlessly reforming.

"S-save... save..." She tried to speak, but her throat produced only garbled, choked whimpers.

The mage looked faintly disgusted. He reached into his robe and withdrew a vial of eerily glowing potion. "Looks like I'll need to quiet you down..."

"Let's go." Arnor gripped Robb's arm. "What comes next, you're better off not watching."

They'd barely taken a few steps when a piercing scream erupted behind them. Woven into the sound was a bone-chilling drone, as though it rose from the deepest pit of hell.

Back in his room, Robb couldn't calm down for a long time.

Everything that had happened was unbearably heavy. From Locke the night before to Emily just now, all of it hammered home the cruelty of this world.

"I have to get stronger. Fast."

In this dark and merciless world, strength was the only foundation for survival.

Whether it was staying alive, or making sure he never became just another slab of meat on a white-robed mage's cutting board.

He opened his notebook and dove back into studying ingredient properties.

Lady Elena's instruction was coming soon. He had to be thoroughly prepared.