Trinity of Magic

Despite Zeke's concerns, Akasha's precautions proved unnecessary. The scouts patrolling the corridor encountered no enemy forces, and even Ash, who dared venture further than anyone, found no signs of ambushes or enemy movement.

The night passed peacefully, with Zeke treating the poisoned while the tribe celebrated their victory. The atmosphere grew even more lively whenever one of the injured rose from their sickbed to join the festivities. It was as if the dead were returning, one by one. The tribe's reversal of fortune had come so swiftly and completely that many could hardly believe it. They had gone from a defeated people on the brink of extinction to a victorious army, their numbers swelling by the minute.

Zeke rubbed the sweat from his brow as he looked down the rows of empty cots. Now, only a few still had patients lying in them—those who could not be cured simply by removing the poison. Vulcanos was one of them, but many more had suffered injuries that wouldn't heal in a matter of days. However, those he could help were all back on their feet.

Zeke shook his head, a wry smile on his face. He had greatly underestimated his new capabilities. He turned his focus inward, inspecting his Core. The Orb still pulsed with power, as bright and vibrant as when he had started.

As a True Mage, he had never fully grasped the significance of having a perfect Affinity. In the past, he could deplete his Core and had to monitor his Mana usage. But now? He doubted he could drain his Core, even if he cast spells nonstop for the entire day. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel-fire.net

At least, if he used Blood Mana.

Converting Ambient Mana to Blood-attuned Mana was almost effortless for him now. His Core recovered faster than he could deplete it with any regular spell. If he truly wanted to test his limits, he'd need to attempt something bigger—something much bigger.

With a satisfied smile, Zeke returned to Vulcanos' side and sat down on the empty cot next to the Chimeroi, closing his eyes in meditation. Now that he finally had a moment to himself, it was time to do something he had wanted to try ever since his advancement.

From his visit to the Bloodsword mansion, he had gained knowledge over the most commonly used Blood Magics of their house: [Blood Generation] and [Blood Compression].

The first spell helped him quickly recover his reserves, while the second expanded his internal storage. He had often relied on both of these fundamental spells, and now it was time to push his new limits. For the next few hours, he alternated between [Blood Generation] to replenish his supply and [Blood Compression] to increase his storage capacity.

It was utterly thrilling.

When the sound of approaching footsteps finally snapped him out of his trance, he realized he'd lost track of time. He quickly gauged his progress and was utterly baffled by what he found. Even a rough estimate put the amount of Blood in his body at fifty times the natural human limit. It was bizarre—he felt more like a storage tank than a person.

"Are you rested?" a voice asked.

Zeke looked up to see three familiar faces: Frost, Ash, and Gravitas, watching him closely. He quickly got to his feet but immediately staggered. Frowning, he began moving his arms and legs, trying to pinpoint the issue. A moment later, the cause became clear—his body had gained significant weight over the past few hours, and he was significantly heavier than ever before.

"Are you alright, Master?" Ash asked, concerned, as he watched Zeke flail his arms and legs unsteadily.

Zeke paused, offering an awkward smile as he realized how ridiculous he must have looked—especially for the tribe's commander. Thankfully, no one else was around to witness his clumsiness. He quickly straightened up, doing his best to mask his awkward movements.

"...I've just been sitting too long," he said. "My limbs feel a little stiff."

Fortunately, the Chimeroi seemed to accept his explanation, and Frost didn't press further about his condition either. Instead, the Pureblood spoke up, "We expect their next attack any moment now... and the men are eager for it," he added with a slight smile.

Zeke returned the smile and began walking toward the exit, the others falling in step behind him. If the Frostscale tribe decided to use the same tactic as they had up till now, then they would be in for a rude awakening. Not only could he counter their poison, but their basic battle strategies were no match for Akasha either.

It would be a slaughter.

It took them only a short while to reach the battle lines, a testament to how far the tribe had been pushed back. Still, Zeke remained optimistic. Today, they would reclaim some of that lost ground.

As they emerged from the cave, the troops' atmosphere shifted. The excited bustle from a moment ago stilled, and all eyes trailed their small group in absolute silence. Zeke took the gazes in stride, his gait already much more accustomed to his new weight. He approached the familiar spot atop the improvised stage, the frozen ground creaking under his heavy footfalls.

Together with his small entourage, Zeke stepped onto the stage, his gaze slowly sweeping over the army. Thanks to his nightly efforts, the number of warriors had grown significantly since the previous day, and he noticed many looks of gratitude directed at him. This didn't come as a surprise. For many, he was now a benefactor who had saved them from the brink of death.

Zeke took it all in quietly, allowing the silence to linger a moment longer. This was not the time for a grand speech; that would come after the battle. For now, he needed the tribesmen alert and focused.

"Wolves…" he said, his voice echoing through the cavern. "It is time to hunt."

An invisible tension built as the warriors' expressions shifted from respect and gratitude to feral ferocity. In the next moment, Zeke felt a pull on his Core as Akasha began to relay her orders. The reaction of the troops was even faster then before, as they quickly arrayed themselves. It seemed the Spirit had managed to build some trust in the tribesmen with her precise orders the day before as Zeke could spot no hesitation anymore.

Zeke stood at the front of the assembled army, his eyes trained on the mouth of the cavern that led to the outside world. The anticipation in the air was electric. Warriors fidgeted, whispered among themselves, and glanced back at him for reassurance. It felt as if they were all holding their breath, waiting for a signal that would ignite the battle.

But time dragged on, and still, there was nothing. No sound of approaching foes, no rustle of movement beyond the cavern's entrance. The longer they waited, the more Zeke could feel the unease ripple through the ranks.

"Akasha," he called out mentally, furrowing his brow as he glanced at the still darkness beyond. "What's going on? Why aren't they attacking?"