Fire Moon (July 15th)
—Eighth Day Since Arriving in E-Rantel—
Originally, Minori had intended to simply resupply and head toward the Baharuth Empire.However, acquiring scroll manufacturing techniques had altered his plans.
These past few days, Minori dedicated nearly all his energy to producing magic scrolls,even spending a precious skill point to promote Papermaking to Level 3.
Skill: Papermaking (Level 3)
MP Cost: 15
Effect: Produces 500 sheets of high-grade paper.
Curiously, second-level Papermaking could produce 700 sheets of second-tier paper,but once promoted to third level, the yield dropped to 500 sheets.
However, the quality was higher.
Just as creating a second-tier magic scroll required twenty sheets of second-tier paper,third-tier scrolls similarly required twenty sheets of third-tier paper.
Currently, Minori's mana pool stood at 28 points.
Because he had no true magic caster profession,his natural mana regeneration was painfully slow:roughly one point per hour.
Across a full day, he could restore up to 52 mana points.
Scroll Crafting Requirements:
Second-tier scroll:
5 MP to prepare the scroll,
Enchant with "Second-tier Magic Accumulation" (10 MP),
Inject the spell (10 MP),
→ Total: 25 MP.
Third-tier scroll:
Same basic process, slightly more demanding,
→ Total: 30 MP.
Thus—
It took more than a full day just to create either a second-tier or third-tier magic scroll.
In eight days of effort—working tirelessly through night and day,immediately beginning scroll creation whenever mana was restored—Minori now possessed:
10 scrolls of [Third-tier · Angel Summoning]
5 scrolls of [Second-tier · Angel Summoning]
Seated on the worn bed in his rented inn room,Minori gazed solemnly at the fifteen scrolls arrayed before him.
The dark circles under his eyes betrayed his fatigue,but his expression remained cold and focused.
"Ten Fire Archangels should be enough to overwhelm the enemy.The five Guardian Angels will serve to confuse enemy intelligence gathering."
He extended a hand, and the scrolls vanished into his magic item box with a soft ripple of light.
These days had been grueling.
Every waking moment calculated.
He had not hesitated to rise in the middle of the night whenever his mana regenerated,to forge another scroll without wasting a single point of energy.
—
It reminded him vaguely of his previous life—the endless overtime shifts,the exhaustion dulling the senses,the feeling of pushing himself past all limits.
But this time—
The stakes were infinitely higher.
Mana was his greatest weakness.
Although the Magic Swordsman class could slightly increase his mana pool,Minori knew it would be a poor investment at this stage.
Until he acquired the professions of Cursed Knight and Valkyrie,he had no intention of upgrading mid-tier or hybrid magic jobs.
Experience points were too precious to squander.
This was why—
Minori's true target was not merely scroll production.
He had set his sights on a far greater prize:
Khajiit Dale Badantel.
One of the Twelve Disciples of the secret cult Zuranon,currently hiding somewhere within E-Rantel.
More specifically—
It was the magic item in Khajiit's possession that Minori desired:
The Orb of Death.
The Orb of Death.
A living magic item—something impossible in the world of YGGDRASIL.
Its secondary function was even more intriguing:
It could autonomously absorb negative energy and store it.
At first, Minori hadn't paid it much attention.
But after gaining the Magic Swordsman profession,which granted him the passive skill Magic Infusion,a startling idea took root.
Negative energy...Wasn't it simply another form of magical energy?
If the Orb could store negative energy—then perhaps, with Magic Infusion,it could be forced to store mana itself.
Such an ability would be priceless.
In both YGGDRASIL and the New World,there were no potions or consumables capable of restoring mana.
Mana recovery depended solely on:
Professions,
Rare magic equipment,
Top-tier cash shop items.
Minori lacked all of those advantages.
If he could repurpose the Orb of Death—
He would overturn that weakness.
Of course—
It was still just a theory.
Whether it could truly work would only be proven after obtaining the artifact.
But Minori's instincts told him:
It was worth the risk.
Zuranon was no small threat.
Ordinary people feared the Eight Fingers underworld syndicate.
Zuranon, by contrast,was a cult of merely thirteen members—and yet, it could threaten entire nations.
Each member was a monster in their own right.
At this point in the timeline,only two disciples were confirmed active:
Khajiit in E-Rantel,
Clementine, a rogue operative formerly of the Six Scriptures.
And among Zuranon's disciples—
Khajiit ranked among the weakest.
This opportunity was one Minori could not afford to miss.
Two more days slipped by.
Minori crafted five additional second-tier magic scrolls.Instead of focusing solely on angels, he diversified, preparing alternative enchantments for emergencies.
He rarely left the inn publicly.
Instead—
He discreetly disposed of the corpses of monsters he had harvested earlier from the Great Tob Forest.
Even the formidable Black-Green Serpent corpse had finally been processed and sold.
His funds had surged to 1,200 gold coins—
but after purchasing a rare magical item specialized for nocturnal operations,his balance dwindled to 600 gold coins.
Still—
The investment had been necessary.
Late at Night—
The streets of E-Rantel lay wrapped in darkness.
One by one, the magical streetlights faded as their enchantments were manually extinguished.
A heavy blanket of clouds smothered even the moonlight.
Near the window, the Little Hellhound stirred.
Sensing the time had come, it softly pawed at Minori's leg with a clinking of bone chains.
Minori opened his eyes.
He glanced toward the window, donned his black robe,and rose silently.
A small bottle appeared in his hand—a Voice Distortion Potion.
Without hesitation, he drank it down.
His voice now deepened into the hoarse rasp of a middle-aged man.
"Stay here. Guard the room."Minori instructed the Little Hellhound curtly.
The creature whined lowly, its eerie green eyes flashing with reluctant understanding.
With a swift, fluid motion—
Minori vaulted over the windowsill and disappeared into the pitch-black alleyways below.