Free Web NovelChapter 292: Chapter 280: True Name
’These words...’
Recalling how his consciousness had nearly been seized by the characters on the blade, Roland held his breath and focused his Spiritual Power before carefully examining the inscriptions that had appeared on the sword once more.
’They seem... somewhat similar to the writing on the scroll Graham gave me about activating the Bloodline Secret Technique.’
At that thought, Roland averted his gaze and took the Sheepskin Scroll he always carried with him from his waist pouch.
’Just as I thought...’
After a careful comparison, Roland nodded lightly.
The form of the characters on the blade and the writing on the scroll did share common traits, with only slight differences in some of the more subtle strokes and structures.
Yet, even after confirming this similarity, the meaning of the inscriptions remained shrouded in mystery for Roland.
Each distorted character seemed to be sealed behind an invisible yet resilient barrier, refusing to reveal its true meaning to him.
He could sense the vast power and ancient aura they contained, but he couldn’t decipher any of it. The sense of disconnect was palpable.
Roland frowned slightly, his fingertips subconsciously increasing the amount of Magic Power he was channeling into the blade.
And at the very moment the Magic Flow intensified, he keenly perceived an anomaly he had previously overlooked.
The dimly shimmering characters on the blade did not seem to be fixed in form; instead, they were undergoing minute adjustments and changes in response to the strength of the Magic Elements he channeled into them.
This discovery invigorated him.
Without the slightest hesitation, Roland concentrated his Spirit.
The ambient Magic Elements in the air entered his body through the Keel on his wrist, then poured into the Mithril Longsword in a continuous torrent, like a flood from an open dam.
The moment the Magic Power surged in, he was struck by another, more profound sensation of change.
He clearly recalled trying to probe the Mithril Longsword when he first learned it was one of the Treasure Tools.
But back then, the feeling...
Whether it was his Spiritual Power or his Magic Elements, both had felt like they were hitting an invisible, resilient wall, firmly blocked from penetrating even a fraction.
The sense of resistance and rejection had been unmistakable.
But now, after the deep Enchantment of the [Elemental Imprint], the Mithril structure within the longsword had perfectly fused with the Wind Elemental Power, forming the brand-new Magic Veins he had created.
The Magic Power he now channeled was no longer a forced intrusion. It was more like a river flowing through a long-cleared channel—unobstructed and completely under his control.
And as he continued to pour in Magic Power, the blade’s reaction grew even more pronounced.
The originally indecipherable inscriptions, which had been constantly shifting and adjusting, seemed to be activated by the ample "fuel." The speed of their transformation began to quicken, and their structure started to stabilize.
They twisted, stretched, and coalesced in the flowing silver light, as if rearranging themselves...
Finally, when the infusion of Magic Power reached a certain critical point, all the changes came to a sudden halt.
The inscriptions freeze-framed into a new, yet strangely familiar form.
They were still ancient and complex, but the thick barrier that had stood in the way of his understanding was gone.
Roland stared at the characters that had finally stabilized on the blade. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he gathered all his Spiritual Power, trying to match the twisting, coiling strokes with the knowledge from the scroll in his mind.
The process was arduous. Each symbol was like a heavy Giant Stone, requiring immense mental effort to pry loose the meaning behind it.
He deciphered them character by character, his mind highly focused, his lips moving silently as he tried to piece together the fragmented information.
’With... the Wind Spirit... as guide... shake... the mountains... roar... silence... at the hour... when star and moon... grow dim... tear... the ancient... pact...’
These disjointed fragments of words hinted at some grand concepts, but the specific connections and complete command remained hidden behind a veil of fog, impossible to piece together.
And as Roland silently recited the words, the ancient inscriptions that had just stabilized on the blade seemed to be infused with life.
The silver halo that had been flowing across it began to recede and condense.
It no longer covered the blade evenly. Instead, it pulsed rhythmically with each silent word he formed, like a breath.
With each pulse, the characters seemed to grow a fraction clearer and more three-dimensional, as if trying to break free from the Mithril’s bonds and rise from the surface.
A faint humming began to vibrate in the silent air.
The scenery around the blade distorted slightly.
It wasn’t due to heat, but wind.
Immensely pure Wind Elements were uncontrollably emanating from the blade, forming a tangible, though invisible, turbulence that swirled around the edge with a sigh-like hiss.
Noticing the strange phenomenon, Roland slowly furrowed his brow. Just then, something changed abruptly.
The Mithril Longsword in his hand suddenly became cold and...
Hungry.
It was no longer content to passively receive the Magic Elements he channeled into it. Like a bottomless vortex, it began to frantically and aggressively drain the Magic Elements from his body.
Roland was startled and tried to sever the connection, but he found his Spiritual Power entangled by invisible Chains. His Magic Power was pouring out uncontrollably, flooding into the greedy sword.
The Magic Veins that had been as docile as his own limbs just a moment ago had now become channels for Plunder.
A powerful wave of exhaustion washed over him, and a sharp, stabbing pain emanated from deep within his mind—an alarm signaling that his Spiritual Power was being rapidly depleted.
’I have to stop this now!’
His survival instinct finally overpowered his curiosity.
With a muffled grunt, Roland forced his will to sever the magical connection between himself and the longsword.
The backlash of Spiritual Power made him dizzy, and he staggered half a step before regaining his footing.
The light on the blade quickly faded. The inscriptions that had just become somewhat clearer vanished, and the sword returned to the state of cold metal, as if the ravenous consumption and the vaguely revealed epic narrative had all been an illusion.
Roland endured the throbbing pain in his spirit and the feeling of utter depletion in his body, but his gaze remained locked on the now-placid sword.
The terrifying experience that had almost consumed him replayed in his mind in vivid detail, his focus absolute.
The cold touch, the tyrannical drain, and that heart-stopping "hunger"...
But on the verge of losing control, his Perception, intimately connected to the sword because of the [Elemental Imprint], had caught another, more subtle rhythm.
’Its "demands" aren’t uniform...’
Roland endured the sharp pain, forcing himself to review what had happened.
’While I was reciting those fragments, the rate at which my Magic Power was draining... seemed to fluctuate subtly with the concentration of my Spiritual Power and the rhythm of the recitation.’
A bold hypothesis formed in his mind.
’What if I don’t need to read all the inscriptions? What if I could just control the output of my Magic Power and Spirit, stay within my limits, and recite only certain passages? Could that allow me to draw out a part of this Treasure Tool’s power, instead of the whole thing?’
The thought invigorated him, temporarily suppressing his discomfort.
He gripped the hilt again, but this time, he was more cautious than ever, as if walking along a cliff’s edge.
Holding his breath, he carefully extended his Spiritual Power, wrapping it around the blade strand by strand.
It was no longer a surging torrent, but a mere trickle; the flow of Magic Elements was also under strict control.
Then, he focused his mind and once again tried to silently recite the few word fragments he had managed to understand.
’By the Wind Spirit as guide...’
Magic Power began to flow, but the speed was slow and steady.
The blade trembled slightly. The hidden inscriptions reappeared, but they only flickered with a faint light, not producing that terrifying suction.
Roland remained completely focused, maintaining this fragile equilibrium as he pushed his intent forward.
’Shake the mountains...’
Upon reciting this phrase, he clearly felt the drain on his Magic Power suddenly accelerate, and his Spiritual Power began to deplete faster as well.
He immediately stopped the recitation and cut off most of the Magic Power supply at the same time.
In that instant of interruption, a strange phenomenon occurred.
The immense, uncontrollable power from before did not appear. Instead, a visible, pale-green current of air materialized on the blade as if it were a living thing.
It coiled tightly around the bright silver edge, emitting a barely audible but incredibly sharp hiss.
Ambient Wind Elements were forcibly drawn in, giving the current a tangible sharpness.
An idea struck Roland. He took the sword and swung it lightly toward a discarded iron ingot on the corner of his workbench.
There was no heavy clang of metal on metal, only an extremely faint TCHH.
The blade passed through the iron ingot as if it were soft clay, smoothly shearing off a corner without any resistance. The cut surface was as smooth as a mirror.
Moreover, when he focused his will, he tried to push forward the Wind Power he had just summoned, which had not yet fully dissipated. A pale-green arc of light, less than a foot long and as thin as a cicada’s wing, suddenly shot out from the tip of the sword. It flew a short distance before silently dissipating, leaving only a shallow gash on a piece of wood in its path.
’It’s just as I thought...’
Roland let out a long breath, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of understanding and delight.
Although he couldn’t release its true name to unleash the full might of the Treasure Tool, he had found a way to utilize it at his current level.
Through precise control—reciting and channeling in fragments—he could activate subsidiary yet extremely practical partial abilities, such as "wreathing the blade in wind to greatly enhance its sharpness" and "releasing a weak blast of Sword Qi."
This wasn’t the full extent of the Treasure Tool’s power, merely the tip of the iceberg. But for his current level of strength, it was undoubtedly a massive boon.
