The Vastness of Magical Destiny

Chapter 78 - 78 Six Survival After the Calamity

?Chapter 78: Chapter Six: Survival After the Calamity Chapter 78: Chapter Six: Survival After the Calamity Entering his room, Komer sat cross-legged on the bed. His chest surged like boiling water and waves of dizziness in his brain made him realize he was on the verge of slipping into magic-induced insanity. Despite having passed out for several hours in the wild, it had not helped him escape his predicament. The Purple-robed Priest’s strength had far exceeded Komer’s expectations, forcing Komer to risk casting “Bloodflame Behemoth,” an advanced Mixed Magic spell combining Dark series and Fire Elemental Magic. Since he was not yet ready to wield such power, he had to confront the dangerous backlash of magic power. Although Komer had promptly taken a Tranquilizer after casting the spell, it merely delayed the onset of the rebound, and by now, he was teetering on the brink of danger.

At this moment, Komer felt as if all the blood in his body was boiling and burning—an indication of Fire Elemental Magic Power backlashing. The dizziness in his head grew stronger, and his consciousness was becoming increasingly blurry. He almost had the sensation of losing control of his own body, a sign of the dark rebound force striking at the very foundation of his spiritual will.

Blood slowly seeped from the corners of his mouth. Komer tore open a spare medicine packet and swallowed three doses of Clearing and Cooling Powder in one go. This was a contingency medicine he kept to maintain mental clarity despite not preventing magic power rebound. He then pulled out three gold needles and, gathering all his strength, inserted them into the crown of his head, chest, and lower abdomen. Pain tore through his entire body as if ripping through his muscles and tendons, enveloping Komer completely. He could no longer maintain his seated posture and involuntarily curled up on the bed, convulsing in spasms as the clucking of his teeth and sweat from the depths of his body conveyed the intense pain he was enduring.

With all his might, he pulled the quilt over and stuffed a corner into his mouth to prevent his uncontrollable teeth from biting off his tongue. Komer imagined himself lying in warm seawater, mermaids swimming by his side, the gently flowing water caressing every inch of his skin, healing all wounds. Little fish grazed his feet, and seaweeds floated by—all creating a scene of tranquil serenity. Yet, the pain coursing through his body, like a tide of madness, spread to every part of him relentlessly.

It was an excruciating method taught by his Master, using immense pain to stimulate one’s potential and instantly enhance the spiritual will to combat the potential madness caused by magic power rebound. This level of pain wasn’t something most could endure; those with weak wills or overly sensitive tactile senses could go insane without the need for a magic rebound. Therefore, it was a gamble, but Komer chose this risk, believing his will was strong enough to withstand the agony. If he could survive this ordeal, it would elevate his mental fortitude to a higher level.

But he had not anticipated that the mundane pain his master spoke of would be so intense and raw—making him want to know the kind of extraordinary agony that his now-deceased master had in mind.

Fran listened intently to a repressed-sounding moan coming from the adjoining room. Although he didn’t know exactly what his master was going through, he was sure of one thing—the master inside was only making such sobbing sounds under extremely unbearable circumstances. He was tempted to enter and help, but recalling his master’s preference never to discuss private issues, he thought perhaps it was wiser to wait quietly outside the door.

The strange noises in the room eventually faded away, and tranquility was restored. Fran could hear the steady breathing inside and was finally at ease.

When Komer awoke, it was already noon. The diagonally cast sunshine was indescribably lazy. Lying motionless in bed, he savored the rare tranquility. The feeling of having survived a disaster was marvelous. Komer could clearly sense that his spiritual power had ascended to a higher realm. Although casting a high-intensity magic spell like “Bloodflame Behemoth” might still trigger a magic rebound, Komer was confident he could independently handle it without any help. “Good fortune lies within bad, and bad fortune lurks within good.” This saying from the distant East seemed to hold some truth.

Resuming the cross-legged posture, Komer tried to let his whole body relax and allowed his spirit to roam freely in the infinite world of meditation. His Spiritual Power, havinrg broken through its bottleneck, was like a newly freed bird flying out of its cage. Many concepts that had eluded his understanding suddenly became clear, and he experienced that wonderful flash of insight that seemed to illuminate everything related. That feeling was truly marvelous, and Komer silently savored the sunshine that came after enduring hardships.

“Sir, Mr. Caffrey has already been here several times,” Fran said in a solemn voice from outside the door. He had been waiting at the doorway and had noticed that his master had awakened from sleep.

“Oh, ask him to wait a moment. Fran, come in first,” Komer said after a moment’s thought.

With a calm facade, Fran pushed the door open and entered. He didn’t know why Komer had summoned him, but he could guess it surely had something to do with the now extinct Kingdom of Myron, his homeland.

“Fran, this afternoon I will discuss matters related to the refugees with officials from the Kingdom’s Ministry of the Interior along with Mr. Caffrey. However, this time the number of refugees is too great, with the Susoer and Meine city-states’ refugees amounting to 100,000, and those from the Myron Duchy are even greater at one hundred and fifty thousand. Thus, the kingdom hopes we can take in between eighty to one hundred thousand of these refugees, which far exceeds our expectations and capacity. But I’m afraid we have no choice but to agree to the kingdom’s plan. However, we still have some choice regarding the socio-economic composition of the population, and I would like to hear your suggestions,” Komer said contemplatively, gazing into his usually somber eyes.

Sighing inwardly, Fran, though a man of great integrity, had also been through the ups and downs of officialdom and had an understanding of political matters. He realized that his lord did not intend to give all the immigration spots to fellow countrymen. He understood; considering the current population of Caucasus was just a few thousand, an influx of tens of thousands from the former Myron Duchy refugees would create many disadvantages in governing, especially when the indigenous people were an absolute minority.

“Sir, most residents of the Myron Duchy make their living through farming. They are simple and kind, both diligent farmers and skilled mine workers. The city-states of Susoer and Meine, being close to trade routes, have a higher urban population ratio. Among them are many outstanding craftsmen and merchants. Their financial situations might be somewhat better, but their customs are slightly more impetuous, though that is a relative statement. As for how to allocate them, it is for you, Sir, to decide,” Fran said, a shadow crossing his features as he offered his fair assessment.

“Mm, I see,” Komer nodded, not saying more. Fran, too, silently bowed and turned to leave. Watching the retreating figure, Komer suddenly called out, “Fran, I’ve heard the infantry soldiers of the Myron Duchy have always been the pride of the Blue Continent. Would you be interested in training an infantry squad for my Caucasus?”

His body gave a slight shudder, and without turning back, Fran tiredly raised his head to look forward before responding softly after a long pause, “If you believe I am capable, Sir, I will not disappoint you.”