That night, Nick would have his last session with Lasazar for the foreseeable future, which, if it was anything like what he’d just gone through, would require him to be at full strength.

Fortunately, he only had one task to complete today before he could finally get into bed again and let sleep wash away his headache.

I wonder what he thinks of me. [Blasphemy] shields me from any real corruption, which allows me to fight more than one demon at a time, and I doubt that happens very often. Is he even aware of how demanding this is, or has his power made him forget what it’s like to be a mere mortal?

Either way, Nick wasn’t going to ask his teacher to stop. Not when he wouldn’t get more lessons after this, and he needed all the help he could get.

After taking another warm shower, Nick sat down on a comfy sofa in Tholm’s library and started reading a book about obscure runic languages, trying to learn more about the sigils used in [Corruption’s Bane].

Just because I can replicate and use the spell itself doesn't mean I fully understand what they do, and any magic will always be only half complete if you don’t understand it down to the bare bones.

As a foundational skill for any demon hunter, [Corruption’s Bane] would stay with him for a long time, and if Nick ever wanted to modify its core structure or add a few of the ideas buzzing in his head, he first needed to master it completely.

That he managed to reach [Proficient] with only an instinctive understanding of the runes was frankly a miracle brought about by his sheer doggedness, and once again proved that this world’s mages truly didn’t realize how good they had it.

On Earth, trying to cast such a complicated spell without fully understanding what each part did would have been deadly. Here, everyone and their mother had enough mana to cover mistakes and fill in the gaps.

It still wasn't something he was eager to keep doing, especially when battling demonic creatures occupied so much of his mental space. He needed to simplify the casting process and make it instinctive, which meant mastering the runic language.

Fortunately, it wasn’t so obscure that it was impossible to find. That might have been because he was in the library of a master of enchanting, whose knowledge of runes was unmatched, but the fact remained that Nick only needed a few minutes browsing the master lists of books to find what he was looking for.

Irvinic is the language brought to Berea by the refugees of the recent Irvinic Collapse of 459, which was later incorporated into the local tradition for its syntax. This influx allowed Berean casters to add layers of complexity to their spells while still maintaining the Intent-forward style that preserved the Kingdom's primacy.

It remains in use to this day, if only among specialized experts who are at risk of magical interference, as the use of magical circles for even basic spells has become standardized and simplified. This allows even apprentices to do what once would have taken years to master.

Its most valuable trait is, without a doubt, its resilience, which only makes sense in the context of the Demonic Incursion of 7, lasting a decade and forcing the Irvinic mages to redevelop their magic in a way that allowed them to cast even through the terrible influence the Breach exuded.

Given the destruction of their homeland from within, one must understand that it is not a foolproof method and that proper care must always be taken. In this compendium, this writer will endeavor to describe the best methods…

The book was quite battered, as shown by its weathered cover and yellowed pages, which told Nick that it had to be very old. Tholm’s library had enough preservation enchantments layered on it that a normal tome could have survived for ages without damage, meaning it had already arrived from somewhere else in that condition. Nick didn’t know any mage who would let their precious grimoires be harmed if they could prevent it, so it had to have been salvaged.

Referring to the Irvinic Collapse of 459, as recent history didn’t mean much, since some mages lived for centuries, as normal people live for months. Depending on the writer’s age and sense of time’s passage, it could have easily been something that happened half a millennium ago.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Still, since the current year was 394, Nick realized he needed some context. Luckily, generalized historical compendia were easy to find, and after a few minutes, he had put together a rough timeline.

Berea had adopted a new calendar nearly four hundred years ago when it unified. That same unification continued for another three centuries, beating its neighbors into submission and subsuming their lands. Its defining moment was when the First King, Izsal the Magnificent, declared the birth of the Ancient and Just Kingdom.

Declaring something ancient at the time of its formation felt a bit misleading, but the explanation was simple. Berea was built on the bones of an older empire, one that had stretched across much of the continent on which it sat and had collapsed about a millennium and a half ago. That event had been used as the starting point of the previous calendar, which was what the book referenced.

That meant the Irvinic Collapse happened about a thousand years ago. It definitely put things into perspective and warned Nick not to rely blindly on any magical theory it espoused, as the book itself acknowledged that things had changed significantly with the advent of magical circles as the foundation for spellcasting.

If I had to choose between a focus and runes, I might go with the first since it’s much more versatile, but it’s true that runic spellcasting gives spells a kind of solidity that’s hard to match.

Some people still used it as their mainstay in the modern age, and Nick himself was a fan when it came to stabilizing rituals with them. Irvinic sounded like just the thing he needed to improve his craft.

Unfortunately, any further research would have to wait as a letter fluttered up to him, making him sigh and close the book with a thump.

He crooked his finger, pulling the paper closer telekinetically, and saw it was a note from the ground floor telling him that he had a visitor, who’d be waiting for him at the Antler & Ink.

There was only one person this could be, so Nick set all the books he’d grabbed during his research frenzy back on their shelves with a lazy gesture and headed down via elevator.

When he exited the Tower, he noticed it was almost midday, and this likely was a lunch meeting rather than the quick deal he had anticipated. Nonetheless, since he doubted the Duke sent a trusted aide merely to make him sign a couple of papers, he shrugged, set out, and planned to take full advantage if they wanted to offer.

The Antler & Ink was not far from the Tower and was relatively quiet, since it was before the usual crowd of young nobles arrived. He was approached by what appeared to be a barmaid, though he could tell at a glance she had more than enough mana to handle the rowdier patrons with ease. “Lord Crowley, this way,” she smiled, showing all her teeth and leaning just enough to remind him she was a woman, before turning around and heading for a staircase that was hidden from view at the entrance.

Nick kept his eyes modestly lowered, resisting the urge to glance up for a quick look. Not because he was especially virtuous, but because he could tell the woman was doing it very intentionally to test him. She felt only mild annoyance at having to pretend with what was obviously a teenager, but still went through with it out of obligation.

A consummate professional through and through, she let nothing of it show on her face or demeanor, but Nick was long since past needing to rely on such primitive cues.

I wonder if this is part of the Duke’s plans. I didn’t doubt he would look into me, not after I defeated Changer, who should have been far stronger than me. But this feels a little too heavy-handed. Maybe it’s his man’s idea?

He was soon led into a richly decorated room, with skulls of dangerous creatures and even a single Wyvern fang displayed on the side wall, above the already-set table where a man was waiting for him.

Now, Nick was sure he’d never met the guy, since his mana signature was completely unfamiliar to him, but something about his features caught his attention, and he knew it would bother him until he figured it out.

He was slightly taller than average, not very young nor old, and had warm brown eyes. The only unusual thing Nick could find was that his mana seemed to be mostly concentrated in his legs and fingers, rather than throughout his whole body like a mage's or in his muscles like a martial artist's, but that could easily be because he had a more specialized class.

“We will begin delivering the courses shortly. In the meantime, please enjoy some of the beverages we have prepared for you,” the woman said, turning around and leaving but not before exchanging a meaningful glance with the man, whose eyebrows rose an inch in surprise at the message conveyed.

Yeah, it was him. It doesn’t seem very informative, but then again, it’s probably just another data point they’ll use to build my profile. The overall vibe of Berea might be medieval, but I’ve seen firsthand that some organizations can be very sophisticated in how they operate. It makes sense for the Duke to keep a dossier on every key player in his territory, especially if they’re connected to a neighboring noble family.

“Welcome,” the man said as he stood up, extending his hand to shake Nick’s. Nick offered his, and they nodded to each other. “I am Statius Steers, and I handle some of the Duke’s affairs.”

A fixer? I guess I should have expected that. He can’t send an official functionary to meet with an Archmage’s apprentice, especially with how tense things are, but someone with the authority and leeway to act was still necessary.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Nick said, “I am Nicholas Crowley, but you can call me Nick.”

It was, perhaps, a social faux pas to skip honorifics and pleasantries so directly, but the man had started it by using just his name and occupation, and Nick took the chance to drop all the annoying rules of noble-speak.

“Very well, Nick. Then you may call me Statius,” the other replied with a slight grin that made his features appear more boyish. He couldn’t have been younger than forty, but the way he carried himself made him seem like an easygoing person, perfectly willing to go along with the mood Nick had set, and his choice of the Antler & Ink, when there were much more pompous restaurants around, made it clear he was not stuffy.

If Nick hadn’t been able to sense the naked calculation behind the act, he would have liked the guy. Still, just because he was acting, it didn’t mean he was here in bad faith, so as he settled into his chair and took a sip of the spiced cider offered, he decided to give him a chance.

The first course was quickly served—a series of smaller bites that were probably meant to be an appetizer, but had to be made “rugged” to match the tavern’s style. They were tasty and satisfyingly meaty, which gave Nick an opportunity to introduce the first topic.

“These are pretty good. I bet they’d be much better with higher quality monster meat,” he threw in, and saw the gleam enter the man’s eyes as the negotiation started.