WHOOSH!

With a sound of something tearing through the air, a ball of fire shot out like an Arrow.

BANG!

After the dull thud, a scorched, blackened crater was left on the thick wooden wall.

Seeing this, Roland was slightly taken aback. Just as he was about to say something, the crisp sound of shattering suddenly reached his ears.

He turned his head to see the Dagger in Bronson’s hand shattering inch by inch, metal fragments scattering to the floor with a series of CLINKs and CLANGs.

The room instantly fell into a strange silence.

"Mr. Bronson..."

Roland was the first to break the silence.

"Was that... Magic just now?"

It wasn’t that he was blind, but the power of that fireball was worlds apart from the one cast by the Blood-colored goblin.

"Er... strictly speaking..."

Bronson gave a light cough, his earlier fanaticism gone without a trace as he reverted to his usual reserved demeanor.

"That was just a Trick. The ancient texts call it Flaming Arrow."

"A Trick?"

"Yes. According to the ancient texts, Magic is divided into Tricks and Spells, and Spells are further divided into nine Ring Tiers..."

Roland thoughtfully recalled the memories from his past life.

’So Tricks are just the most basic application of Magic?’

"That’s... a fairly accurate way to put it..."

"Then how long did it take you to gather these Magic Elements?"

"About... ten days?"

"So just now... was that your first time casting a Trick with these Spell Patterns?"

"No, it was the second time..."

Bronson’s voice grew softer and softer until it was nearly inaudible.

’Ten days to charge, and it’s ruined after two Tricks? And that’s not even counting the time I spent forging this Dagger in the first place...’

The enthusiasm that had just been ignited in Roland instantly cooled.

But on second thought, he felt that Bronson’s Spell Pattern design actually had a lot of potential.

After all, this was just the result of preliminary research.

If he could continue to delve deeper, shorten the charging time, reduce the wear and tear the Spell Patterns caused on the item, and allow it to cast Magic multiple times...

Even with just the most basic Tricks, the improvement to one’s combat ability would be nothing to scoff at.

After all, judging from Bronson’s demonstration, using Spell Patterns to cast Tricks seemed to consume a negligible amount of Spiritual Power.

After a moment of contemplation, Roland asked.

"Mr. Bronson, can I learn that kind of Trick?"

"Of course."

Bronson nodded lightly.

"The knowledge related to Tricks is not part of the restrictions the High Tower placed on me."

"In that case, I think..."

Roland paused for a moment before saying encouragingly.

"Mr. Bronson, although your research is currently... incomplete, it has vast room for development."

"You’re right!"

Upon hearing this, Bronson’s Spirit was lifted, and the fighting spirit in his eyes rekindled.

"As long as I continue my research, sooner or later..."

As he spoke, Bronson’s expression froze.

"Er... however... it seems my research funding is insufficient..."

"Because of the recent conflict in the Black Pine Forest, Baron Fosling has already rejected my requests for research funds several times. And when I just got back, I already gave a demonstration for Baron Fosling, but he..."

Bronson scratched his head and said, somewhat awkwardly.

"He said I was just performing a circus act. He even flew into a rage over it and cut my research funding even further..."

’A circus act?’

Now that he mentioned it, Roland recalled that before the festival for the Father of Heaven, there had indeed been acrobats in his village who had demonstrated similar techniques.

But he was certain...

Roland looked at the black hole on the wooden wall, which was still emitting a wisp of blue smoke.

Their techniques definitely couldn’t produce this effect.

However, he could also understand Baron Fosling’s point of view.

After all, something like Magic had disappeared for centuries, and the world had long since lost its understanding of this mysterious art.

Not to mention what Bronson had cast was a Trick that looked somewhat similar to a circus act...

Thinking of this, Roland mulled it over for a moment before slowly speaking.

"If you were to continue improving these Spell Patterns, how much money would you need per month?"

"Not much, not much!"

Hearing the hidden meaning in Roland’s words, Bronson rubbed his palms together and slowly held up three fingers.

"Three Silver Coins will be enough!"

"Because the Magic Elements are gradually reawakening, I’ve discovered that even if the Spell Patterns aren’t bound to a solid object, they can still produce an effect. The effect is greatly diminished, but for research purposes, it doesn’t make much of a difference."

’Three Silver Coins?’

’That’s just about bearable...’

Roland calculated inwardly.

He was currently a Blacksmith Apprentice, earning nearly one Silver Coin a month. Adding the five Silver Coins remaining in his pocket, it was enough for Bronson to research for two months.

As for what would happen after two months...

He was planning to go to the Adventurer’s Guild to accept bounties for slaying Demons. He could see how much he could earn then.

Thinking of this, Roland cleared his throat.

"Mr. Bronson, I can fund your continued research, but..."

"But what?"

Bronson immediately leaned in, looking at him with eager eyes.

His wrinkled face was filled with anticipation, a sight both comical and a little pitiful.

"I need you to share all your research findings with me without reservation, and to assist me with any research I need help with."

"No problem! But..."

Bronson gave an embarrassed twitch of his lips.

"About you agreeing to be my assistant before... is that offer still valid? I’m not trying to slack off..."

As if afraid Roland would misunderstand, he hastily explained.

"It’s just that with your help, my research speed will increase significantly. That would be a good thing for both of us, wouldn’t it?"

"No problem. As it happens, I’ll be staying in the manor for the next few days."

As he spoke, Roland reached into his tunic, took out his coin purse, fumbled for three Silver Coins, and placed them in Bronson’s hand.

As for whether Bronson would deceive him, Roland had already considered it.

If Bronson cheated him, he would only lose a few coins. With his ever-growing skills and strength, acquiring money would only become easier and easier.

But if Bronson truly took his research seriously and successfully improved these Spell Patterns, or even developed other types, it would be a huge boost to Roland’s strength, especially given his current lack of offensive options.

What’s more, Bronson himself was a treasure trove of knowledge waiting to be explored.

For example, those ancient books written in a strange script.

He didn’t have time to study them now, but he would definitely have to ask about them in the future.

Establishing a long-term partnership with this peculiar scholar seemed like a no-lose proposition no matter how he looked at it.

As his thoughts reached this point, a question suddenly occurred to Roland.

"By the way, Mr. Bronson, I remember you asked me to make that Dagger. That was before you deduced that the Magic Elements were reawakening, wasn’t it?"

"Er... about that..."

Hearing the question, Bronson deftly tucked the coins away while speaking with some embarrassment.

"You might not know this, Roland... but anyone who can enter the High Tower for advanced study has a natural affinity for a certain Element."

"So at first... I was actually planning to use my own blood for the experiment..."

’Elemental Affinity...’

Hearing this familiar term, Roland couldn’t help but think of his Heart of the Furnace Trait.

’Doesn’t that mean that I, with my Fire Element Affinity, also have the potential to become a Wizard?’

After temporarily suppressing this somewhat unrealistic idea, Roland discussed the research direction for the Spell Patterns with Bronson.

The two didn’t stop talking until around noon, when the bell for lunch rang.

After swallowing to moisten his somewhat dry throat, Bronson finally realized something.

"Oh, right, Roland. A servant named Matthew said you were looking for me earlier. What was it about?"

Hearing the question, the scene he had witnessed in the forest that day involuntarily came to Roland’s mind.

The Warrior from the Fiery Sun Church...

The Magic-using Blood-colored goblin...

And the remains of that giant creature they had been fighting over...