Chapter Forty-Four: The Enchanted Scroll

The commotion in the camp had already startled the others from their sleep. The group hurried toward the masked man’s tent, but by the time Kailot arrived, Hughes was already galloping far away on horseback.

“Should we go after him? He can’t have gotten far. If the chest is gone, we’ll be in deep trouble when we return,” someone suggested. Their leader was dead, the chest was missing—returning empty-handed would not end well for them. If they chased him down now and recovered the chest, at least things might be a little better.

Kailot stood by the masked man’s corpse, his expression grim as he gazed upon the charred body, torn between rage and fear. He had carried out many missions with the masked man and met countless people, but only a sorcerer could inflict such devastating harm in an instant.

Kailot knew all too well that those lofty sorcerers didn’t consider mortals like them even worthy of being called human. Perhaps recalling the cruelty of sorcerers, Kailot’s body began to tremble uncontrollably.

“We can’t go! No one goes! Everyone, get back, now!” Kailot shouted frantically, hurrying to find his horse, desperate to leave this place. The others, though reluctant, had no choice but to follow him. They weren’t fools; the wounds on the masked man’s body clearly weren’t caused by any human. They would have gritted their teeth and given chase for the sake of the mission, but with someone taking the lead to retreat, it was all the excuse they needed.

Hughes, meanwhile, rode on untroubled. Even if they caught up, he’d simply kill them all—their collective strength was nothing to him. He galloped freely for a while, and once he felt he’d put enough distance between himself and the others, he stopped. He’d been curious about the chest’s contents for a long time.

He found a relatively clean spot to sit, holding the chest in his hands. It was surprisingly light, almost weightless—just an ordinary, unadorned box, so plain it could have been discarded on any street.

“No lock?” Hughes examined the chest and found it wasn’t secured at all. There wasn’t even a seam; the whole thing seemed carved from a single block of wood, then hollowed out. The weight felt off, too.

“What kind of trick is this?” It was Hughes’s first time seeing something like this. He shook the box gently, hearing something rattle inside. But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t find a way to open it.

“Maybe…” Hughes glanced at his sword, deciding to force it open.

With a bang, Hughes struck the chest with his sword, carefully controlling his strength. But as the blade landed, dense black runes surfaced across the box, blocking his attack. The force rebounded, pushing Hughes back several steps; his grip nearly failed and his hand trembled from the shock. As soon as the runes had absorbed the blow, they faded away.

“Chip! Compare the runes that just appeared with the ones you’ve recorded before and see if you can analyze them.” Hughes was increasingly convinced that whatever was inside the box was even more valuable than he had imagined.

“Beep! Comparison complete. The runes that appeared are stabilization runes and rebound runes.”

“Just these two?” Hughes was a little surprised at the chip’s analysis. Both types were commonly used in the sorcerers’ domain, especially stabilization runes. Many buildings in the Circle of Shadows were reinforced with them—particularly in the spell-testing district, where the walls were covered in them, to prevent experiments from breaking through. As for rebound runes, Hughes’s own sorcerer’s robe bore them; they rarely reflected magical forces, but were highly effective against physical blows.

“These runes must’ve been inscribed by at least a third-level sorcerer’s apprentice,” Hughes guessed, judging by how easily they’d resisted his strength. “In that case, I can use my full power.”

Until now, Hughes hadn’t dared use magic, fearing he might destroy the contents along with the box. But now he saw he needn’t worry.

Taking the chest in both hands, he began channeling large amounts of lightning element, planning to erode the runes away bit by bit. Blue electricity corroded the black runes, which gradually faded and disappeared under his careful control. When the last rune was gone, with a crisp click, the box opened with a gentle sound.

“Let’s see what’s inside!” Hughes eagerly peered in.

The first thing he saw was a piece of red cloth. He picked it up—it was nothing more than an ordinary piece of fabric—so he set it aside. Beneath it lay a scroll, nearly as long as Hughes’s entire forearm, explaining why such a large box had been needed. The scroll was pitch-black, cold to the touch, and felt like metal, though its material was a mystery.

Slowly, Hughes unrolled the scroll, revealing lines of fine script and intricate diagrams. He started at one end and began reading, his astonishment growing with every line.

“This is…” Hughes stared at the scroll, shocked. “These are the steps to crafting an enchanted artifact!”

Hughes had always longed to own such an item, but never had the chance. The only one he’d ever possessed was the Shadow’s Favor, and even that was broken.

“No, I can’t keep this scroll.” Hughes knew that if anyone found out, not even nine lives would save him. What’s more, this scroll described a defensive enchanted artifact. He didn’t know exactly how powerful it would be, but being a high-grade item, it was bound to be formidable.

“Chip! Scan and record everything on the scroll. File it under a new archive.”

“Beep! Scanning and archiving complete!”

With a snap of his fingers, flames appeared at his fingertips. Hughes gathered some branches from the ground, built a small fire, and tossed the scroll in. It must have been made from some special material; it took more than ten minutes for the flames to catch. The fire burned for a full half-hour before the scroll was finally reduced to ash. Hughes prodded the remains with a stick to make sure there wasn’t a trace left, only then did he relax.

His caution was not excessive. After all, this concerned a high-grade enchanted artifact, and a defensive one at that—something that could decide life and death among sorcerers.

Enchanted artifacts were growing ever more scarce; even fewer people knew how to craft them. Most of the existing ones were relics left over from ancient sorcerers. Hughes had only read about them in books: in essence, enchanted artifacts were extraordinary materials combined and bestowed with great power.

The scroll described an artifact called the Guardian’s Guide—a high-level item that continuously absorbed elemental energy from the air, stored it, and released it as a shield when needed. How strong the shield would be, Hughes would have to test for himself.

“Looks like I’ll be busy when I return.” Crafting this artifact would require vast knowledge of alchemy and enchantment, as well as rare materials—Hughes wouldn’t be able to make it anytime soon.

“But what a haul!” Obtaining the method to create such an artifact put him in an excellent mood. He’d never dreamed his little adventure would yield so much; not even his mentor, Master Mart, had ever mentioned such high-level items.

“Still, I’d better be careful not to let anyone find out.” Hughes knew that whoever had once possessed this knowledge must have belonged to a powerful faction. As for how those people had managed to steal it—that was none of his concern.