Free Web NovelChapter 276: Chapter 264: Secret Imprisonment Dice
Although it was unclear why Graham was so insistent on returning as soon as possible, Roland and the others didn’t raise any objections.
After all, given the choice, who would want to stay in such a desolate and remote place?
Thus, before dawn, they successfully rejoined the main force under Jia Xiu’s guidance.
"Master Reggie! I’m so glad you’re all right!"
Seeing this master who, at the final moment, had used his own body to hold back thousands upon thousands of Magical Guide Structures at the entrance of the High Tower, Roland’s eyes filled with sincere respect.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Of course I’m fine! But you, on the other hand, kid..."
Reggie laughed and stepped forward, giving Roland a solid hug.
But a moment later...
"Stop, stop, stop!"
Feeling as if he were being viciously squeezed by two iron chains, the ordinary-looking master cried out in pain, slapping Roland’s back.
"Go easy on me! Can’t you see I’m still injured?"
"Sorry, Master Reggie..."
Roland quickly let go and smiled a little sheepishly.
Unlike the Attribute Bonuses from his previous jobs, where the Power felt like it was naturally welling up from within, this was different.
Perhaps because the Attribute Bonus granted by his new Knight job was simply too immense, Roland for the first time experienced...
An awkward feeling of not being able to fully control his own Power.
"COUGH, COUGH, COUGH..."
After a few heavy coughs, Reggie glanced at the bandages on his arm, which were soaked through with spots of blood, and shook his head helplessly.
"Forget it. If it weren’t for you, I’m afraid..."
Glancing around at the somewhat dense crowd, he seemed to remember something and abruptly cut himself off. He leaned close to Roland and lowered his voice.
"Don’t worry, kid. Dean Graham already told me everything. I’ll keep your secret."
"Thank you, Master Reggie."
"Alright..."
Reggie gently patted Roland’s shoulder and pointed to a large tent nearby.
"Go over there, mention my name, and get some supplies. We still have a long way to go to the Royal Capital."
"Okay, Master Reggie. By the way..."
Roland wanted to ask something else, but Reggie had already turned away to handle other military affairs.
Seeing this, Roland could only shake his head helplessly.
’But since Master Reggie didn’t mention him specifically, that guy Mason... he should be fine, right?’
With that thought, Roland called to his companions behind him and headed for the tent.
"Form a line, one by one! Registration is starting now. What do you need?"
Before he even lifted the heavy curtain flap, a familiar voice drifted out from inside the tent.
"Mason?"
Roland lifted the curtain.
He saw the slender young nobleman he had just been worried about, now sitting upright at a wooden table, a quill in his hand scratching across a piece of paper.
Hearing his name, the young man looked up, his eyes instantly lighting up.
"Mr. Roland!"
Seeing that Mason was safe and sound, Roland let out a long sigh of relief.
Although they hadn’t known each other for long, Mason’s gentle temperament made him hard to dislike, and they had become friends.
After a brief chat and discussing their plans for their return to the Royal Capital, Roland’s group left the tent. They carried a haul of supplies that was clearly much larger than anyone else’s, drawing slightly surprised looks from the surrounding soldiers.
The journey back to the Royal Capital was exceptionally smooth, with no unexpected incidents.
With an organized army as their escort, Roland and his party felt all the more secure and comfortable.
Galvis even called the return trip "the most relaxing journey ever."
In less than a month, the distinct salty tang of the sea breeze quietly filled their nostrils.
Gazing at the silhouette of the port city gradually appearing on the horizon, Roland let out a long breath, followed by a profound sense of exhaustion.
This exhaustion wasn’t physical but stemmed from the constant tension his nerves had been under for days.
From the decision to hunt the Pirates, to encountering the Heartstealer in Wailing Gorge, and then to being unexpectedly stranded in the Land of Mist, Roland’s nerves had remained as taut as a drawn bowstring, never relaxing for a moment.
Now that they had finally reached a safe place, an intense wave of drowsiness instantly washed over him, and he couldn’t help but let out a long yawn.
After saying goodbye to Avril, Roland took his new acquaintances, Freddy and Mason, back to his own courtyard.
The moment he stepped through the gate, an alluring aroma tickled his nose.
Roland’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise.
’Mr. Bronson... when did he learn how to cook?’
As he was wondering, the sound of light footsteps echoed.
He looked toward the sound and saw the Half-Elf, Hobbit, peeking his head out of the kitchen.
The moment he saw Roland, his eyes filled with joyous surprise.
"Mr. Roland!"
After a brief exchange, Roland introduced Mason to Hobbit and then asked.
"Hobbit, where is Mr. Bronson?"
"At this time of day... Mr. Bronson should be in his room doing research."
Roland nodded in understanding. He had Galvis see to the guests’ accommodations while he headed straight for the room on the right side of the courtyard.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
The moment the crisp knocking sound stopped, Roland pushed the door right open.
"Nngh... Roland?"
Lost in his research, Bronson seemed to have completely forgotten the time.
When the scholar looked up, his eyes didn’t hold the joy of a long-awaited reunion, but a flicker of surprise that was immediately replaced by a fanatical excitement.
He hurried forward and shoved a somewhat messy stack of papers from his hand into Roland’s.
"Roland, your timing is perfect! Do you remember the Element Fusion Theory I proposed before?"
Hearing this, Roland felt a surge of delight.
He reached back to close the door behind him and began flipping through the papers as he asked.
"You’ve perfected the theory and successfully tested it?"
"Er... well..."
The fanaticism on Bronson’s face froze. He scratched his cheek and began, somewhat awkwardly.
"A success... well, you could call it a success. I did manage to find the key nodes and triggers for fusing two Elements, but..."
He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
"But the effect after the fusion is a far cry from what I envisioned."
"Free Magic Elements, detached from the reinforcement and constraints of Runes, have practically no power to speak of..."
Roland wasn’t too disappointed by this news.
After all, now that he had opened his Deep Sea of Consciousness and could cast Ring Tier Spells, his desire to enhance the power of his Magic was not as urgent as it once was.
’Besides, since the theory itself is complete,’ he thought, ’perhaps some of its principles... can be directly applied to Casting Techniques?’
’For instance... what if I wasn’t limited to a single Magic Element, but tried to fuse two spells themselves?’
Upon hearing Roland’s idea, Bronson fell silent for a moment. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes as he decisively pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, grabbed a quill, and began scribbling calculations at a furious pace.
"Mr. Bronson..."
Seeing this, Roland sighed helplessly, then raised a hand to gently pat the scholar’s shoulder, breaking him out of his state of deep concentration.
He took the Eight-sided Dice he’d obtained from the Witch Demon out of his waist pouch and placed it gently on the desk.
"Do you know what this is?"
"This..."
Bronson set down his pen and studied the object for a moment. With his long, slender fingers, he began to deftly manipulate the die’s faces, causing the ancient Runes to make a faint, rhythmic CLICK with each turn. Then, in a calm and somewhat academic tone, he started to explain to Roland.
"This is a rather ancient artifact."
His tone was gentle, his gaze fixed on the die at his fingertips.
"It is called the ’Secret Imprisonment Dice,’ or alternatively, the ’Spirit-Locking Dice.’"
"In the distant past, around the end of the Aurora Era—probably over a thousand years ago—some Casters used these to safely seal away items. The principle is similar to applying a complex Magic Seal."
Bronson’s fingers turned the faces of the die with steady, precise, and fluid movements.
"Theoretically, there are two ways to open it."
"The first is to use immense Magic Power to forcibly shatter the protective ward at its core. This requires a profound level of skill, is quite risky, and can easily damage the item stored inside."
Bronson shook his head slightly, clearly disapproving of that method.
"The second..."
His hands didn’t stop moving, producing a few more crisp CLICKs.
"...is to understand the pattern of its Runes, then rotate and align the sequences on the eight faces in a specific order to form a complete ’key’ sequence. This deactivates the internal lock and is the much safer method."
"It sounds like opening this... Secret Imprisonment Dice is pretty difficult, then?"
Roland asked with a frown.
"In the era when they were first created, that was indeed the case."
Bronson smiled faintly, his fingers still skillfully manipulating the die, making it spin in his palm like a docile toy.
"However, over thousands of years, many scholars who specialize in ancient magical artifacts—especially the long-lived Wizards in the High Tower—have conducted extremely detailed research and deconstruction of the structure and Rune Logic of these Secret Imprisonment Dice."
"The relevant solution diagrams and principle analyses are considered quite basic materials in the High Tower’s archives. For someone like me, who has studied these texts, mastering the solution is more a matter of patience and familiarity than any profound skill."
At this point, Bronson added gently.
"So, Roland, in my humble opinion, unless this is a genuine antique from over a thousand years ago, anything sealed using a method that has been so thoroughly deciphered... its actual value is likely..."
He chose his words carefully, trying to be tactful, but the meaning was clear.
Don’t get your hopes up.
The very instant Bronson’s final, gentle words about the die’s likely value had finished echoing in the air...
CLICK!
An exceptionally crisp sound, like a precision mechanism locking perfectly into place, echoed clearly from within the die.
Bronson’s nimbly moving fingers froze mid-motion, as if halted by invisible strings.
The gentle, rational, and slightly regretful expression on his face instantly froze, replaced by a look of pure astonishment.
His eyes widened slightly as he stared in disbelief at the cold Eight-sided Dice in his palm.
At that moment, a vast surge of Energy was quietly leaking out from the tiny crevices at its eight vertices.
