This fellow is an absolute genius in magical research! Du Wei had already formed a judgment about the captive mage before him. If this man were allowed to continue his studies unchecked, he might one day become a legendary pioneer, a master who reshapes the arcane arts!
But for now, Du Wei's focus was razor-sharp: how to wield magic through the art of alchemy.
The mage, speaking of the fruits of his lifelong labor, couldn't contain his excitement. Before, he'd been forced to hide his discoveries, unable to share his greatest achievement with the world—a regret that gnawed at him. Now, finally free to speak openly, his eyes gleamed with fervor, his face alight with pride. He gestured wildly, caught up in his own fervor.
"Someone like me," he began, "has plenty of spiritual power—raw magical energy, that is. But my sensitivity? Pathetic. I could never feel the magical elements in the natural world around me. So, I thought to myself: it's like a man with poor hearing. If the sounds around him are faint, he hears nothing. But if the noise grows loud, thunderous even, then surely he'd pick it up!"
Du Wei's eyes flashed with sudden clarity. "So," he interjected, "you used alchemy to concoct something that amplifies the concentration of magical elements in the air?"
"Exactly!" the mage declared. "In fire magic, the most fundamental component is 'fire element.' But even the greatest mages don't truly know what fire element is. They know how to wield it, but its essence? A mystery. Now, alchemical substances that burn—those must contain fire element, yes? Since they ignite, it stands to reason! So I hypothesized: my sensitivity is weak, meaning in normal conditions, those with sharper senses can feel the magic in the air, while I'm blind to it. But if I could increase the density of magical elements around me, raise it to a critical threshold, then even someone as dull as me could sense it! And if I could sense it, I could wield magic!"
"And… you succeeded?" Du Wei let out a slow breath, his heart quickening.
"Yes!" The mage's voice was solemn, resolute. "I conducted countless experiments, focusing on fire magic. I assumed that flammable alchemical substances held fire element within them. The challenge was extracting it. That took years. I left my mentor, ventured south alone, and built a small laboratory. I crafted tools for refinement, and after years of trial and error, I found it."
Du Wei leaned forward, his voice tinged with awe. "You found the fire element? What is it?"
The mage's expression faltered, a touch of helplessness creeping in. "That… I don't know." He gave a wry smile. "I tested over a hundred formulas, three hundred methods of extraction. Then, not long ago, after one particular experiment, I succeeded. I blended extracts from a dozen plants into a powder—a black powder. And when I did… I felt it!"
"Felt it?" Du Wei's brow arched.
"Yes! I felt it!" The mage's voice trembled with emotion. "My magical sensitivity was always pitiful. I could never sense the elements around me. But when I created that powder and, as part of my experiment, used a device I built—a kind of bellows—to scatter it into the air… I sensed it at last! I tried a fire spell, and for the first time, I could clearly feel the fire element dancing in the natural world! I… I had done it!"
His voice rose, thick with passion. "I was thirteen when I began my journey into magic. Twenty years—twenty years of struggle! And finally, I wielded magic… even if it was just the humblest, most basic fireball spell. When I saw that fist-sized fireball burst from my hands, I was so overjoyed I thought I'd die of it."
Du Wei studied the man's face, letting out a quiet sigh. "So, that day in the tavern, when you fought my men, the fireball you used…"
"Correct," the mage nodded. "I carry sealed vials of that powder with me. When I need to cast a spell, I subtly open one, hidden in my sleeve, letting the powder disperse. Then, I can sense the fire element and weave my magic."
A strange method… yet this man was undeniably a genius!
But then, a new question stirred in Du Wei's mind, his expression growing peculiar. "Your mage qualification—you earned it using this method, didn't you?"
The mage's face flushed. "I know it's tantamount to cheating. But my longing for the title of mage… it was something I couldn't control."
"I understand," Du Wei said evenly. "But what puzzles me is why you only qualified as the lowest rank, a first-level mage. You have the gift of raw magical power, and now you've overcome your sensitivity issue. Couldn't you aim higher?"
"No, I can't," the captive shook his head, his voice heavy. "My method solved the sensitivity problem, but it led to a new obstacle—one I've pondered endlessly and still can't overcome."
"What obstacle?" Du Wei pressed, his interest piqued. After all, his own hopes of mastering magic rested on this man's shoulders.
"I've done the tests," the mage explained. "The yellow powder I refined is rich with fire element. But my sensitivity is so poor that even in its presence, I can only manage the most basic fireball spell." He gave a bitter laugh. "Do you think I didn't dream of greater spells? I even imagined that, in theory, I could keep increasing the fire element in my surroundings. If I could make it dense enough, I might one day cast the ultimate fire spell, the forbidden City Conflagration Spell! To become a mage capable of such power—what glory, what achievement! I'd stand at the pinnacle of all mages on the continent!"
His voice burned with fervor, but it soon dimmed. "But my sensitivity is my limit. To cast higher-level fire spells, I'd need the fire element around me to be denser—far denser. My yellow powder already contains a potent concentration, and I've no idea how to refine it further. I even calculated roughly: in an environment so rich with fire element, I can only manage a basic fireball. To cast a mid-tier fire spell, I'd need the fire element's density to increase by dozens of times—dozens! What does that mean? I'd have to be surrounded by flames themselves! Only in a blaze would there be such abundant fire element. But if I tried that, I'd burn to ash long before I could cast anything."
"So," Du Wei concluded, "despite breaking through your sensitivity barrier, you're still limited to the most basic magic."
"Correct," the mage admitted.
"And your instant casting?" Du Wei's curiosity lingered on the mage's ability to fire off fireballs without chanting, a feat that had caught his eye.
"That's just another alchemical trick," the mage said, a touch embarrassed. "My magic doesn't rely on summoning natural elements. The fire element is already there, in my sleeves. Normal mages chant to seek and gather the elements around them. I don't need to search—my fire element is ready at hand."
Du Wei's expression shifted, a spark of realization igniting.
If that were true… then, if this man could somehow overcome his current limits and wield higher-level magic… he could still cast instantly!
Imagine it: a mage hurling advanced fire spells, without a single incantation—an instantaneous barrage. What a terrifying force he'd be!
Du Wei spent a long time speaking with the mage, deftly steering the conversation toward magical alchemy. To the mage's surprise, this young noble—barely more than a boy—displayed a startling depth of knowledge in the field. Though the mage didn't yet know Du Wei's full identity, the grand castle on the Rowling Plain hinted at his ties to the illustrious Rowling House.
For a noble of such stature to be so versed in magical alchemy—a discipline often scorned by high society—was astonishing. The boy's erudition quietly earned the mage's respect.
As their talk grew warmer, Du Wei revealed his own story: his dream of becoming a mage, crushed when he was deemed talentless.
The confession struck a chord. A surge of empathy welled up in the mage. This young noble shared his plight! The same burning passion for magic, the same discovery of a fatal flaw—abundant magical power, yet crippled by poor sensitivity.
Though their earlier encounter had been fraught, and though he was still a captive, the mage's resentment toward Du Wei softened. The boy's actions stemmed from a desperate hunger for magic, a drive the mage knew all too well.
"Solskjaer," Du Wei said softly, using the mage's name, learned during their talk. He fixed the man with a steady gaze. "Let me ask you: why do you want to be a mage? What do you hope to gain?"
Solskjaer paused, considering. "A mage's duty, they say, is to seek the ultimate mysteries of magic, to devote a lifetime to its study. But I know I'll never be a high-ranking mage, so those grand ideals mean little to me. I just… want what I've always dreamed of."
"Status and reward?" Du Wei smiled. "That's an honest answer. And you're right—mages are prized wherever they go. A skilled mage is courted by the powerful, showered with respect and riches. But don't forget: you're only a first-level mage. No great lord will empty their coffers for a low-ranking spellcaster."
Solskjaer fell silent, the truth of Du Wei's words sinking in. Despite earning his mage's title, the world hadn't welcomed him as he'd hoped. At first, people were awed to meet a mage—until they learned he was merely first-level. Then, their enthusiasm faded, leaving him to scrape by, joining a ragtag adventuring party like Rolynn's.
Seeing the mage's expression, Du Wei knew the moment was ripe. He smiled warmly. "Solskjaer, if your dream is status and respect, why not serve me? Become my personal magical advisor. I'll offer you generous terms—respect, position, everything you need. You've seen it: I'm of the Rowling House. Our name won't disgrace you, will it?"
Solskjaer's heart stirred.
Serve this young noble? It wasn't a bad prospect. Their earlier clash faded in light of their shared passion for magic. Their conversation had been pleasant, and more importantly, this boy understood the same struggles—both had turned to alchemy when the path of magic seemed barred. A sense of kinship bloomed within him.
To serve as a magical advisor to the Rowling House, with all the benefits that entailed—what was there to hesitate over?
"I…" Solskjaer began, then paused. "I'd be willing, but I need to return south first. My laboratory is there, with tools, rare materials, and my refined powders. I must handle it myself—you know a mage's lab can't be entrusted to ordinary hands. It's too dangerous."
Du Wei considered this. Letting him go south wasn't an issue… but what if the man fled? This mage, with his unorthodox brilliance, was worth more than gold to Du Wei. He couldn't risk losing him.
A decision crystallized. "Very well," Du Wei said, his eyes glinting. "I'm curious about your lab myself. I'll go with you to the south."
And so, on this day, the path of Roland's demon was set in motion.