Chapter 14: Unfathomable Methods

“No!”
The terrifying monster lunged straight at him, jolting him awake in an instant. Charles sat up in bed, his gaze wandering in confusion around the room before he realized it had only been a dream.

“Meow!”
A soft, squirming cry arose from his body. As Charles woke with a start, a snow-white figure was suddenly flung high into the air, voicing its displeasure with a plaintive cry, its slender eyes fixed on him in reproach.

“Sorry, I just had a nightmare.” Charles immediately understood what had happened. He reached out and caught the little creature, smoothing down its ruffled fur. The softness and warmth beneath his hand quickly calmed him. He extended his hand to the little fox and asked, “Firefly, would you like to become my totem?”

The little fox tilted its head at him, then rubbed its small head against his hand. Charles gathered it up and pressed a kiss to its forehead, a broad smile on his face. “Okay, but you chose this yourself—no backing out now!”

He was now certain it had been this little one that saved him the day before. For all its adorable and harmless appearance, it clearly possessed some special power, something formidable enough to drive off that monstrous creature.

To win over a little red riding hood who seemed innocent and harmless, but was in truth a wolf in disguise, was a stroke of luck for him. It was enough to serve as his totem for now. If its evolutionary abilities failed to satisfy him in the future, he could always use a gem to replace it; there was nothing to worry about there.

After dinner, Charles headed straight to the town and entered the courtyard, making his way down into the basement.

Bruce took the few dull gray stones Charles handed him, glanced at the little fox perched on his shoulder, and nodded with a smile. “Honestly, I thought you would choose the gray wolf, or even a forest bear. I never expected you to pick an ordinary moonlight fox.”

“But that’s good—though the moonlight fox is weaker, it’s easier to nurture and evolve. It will make it far easier for you to become a true Spiritmaster. Charles, are you certain you want to use it as your totem?”

“Of course, I’m sure.” Charles nodded, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind. Was it possible that even Bruce couldn’t see Firefly’s true nature? Or had he been mistaken, and the little fox really was just an ordinary fox?

But he said nothing more. He had no intention of telling Bruce what he’d experienced. If it turned out to be a mistake, he could always replace the totem later. For now, all he needed was to obtain his first totem—then he could snowball his power endlessly!

“Very well, then let’s begin.”

Bruce nodded and produced a source crystal. Wisps of gray light floated out, coalescing into strange runes that enveloped the white fox.

The little fox grew anxious and tried to struggle, but under Bruce’s overwhelming suppression, it could not resist and could only submit to the mysterious scanning runes.

“The first step: use the scan runes to examine the entire body and uncover its internal inheritance map.”

Bruce’s hands traced a series of intricate gestures. Ribbons of gray light materialized, wrapping around the little fox, weaving in and out of its body, transforming it into a massive cocoon.

“Next, the analysis runes. For this test, you’ll manifest the inheritance factors yourself, which will serve as the foundation for constructing your totem. Watch closely!”

At his words, a series of strange patterns appeared above the “cocoon,” swirling like nebulae—brilliant, beautiful, and suffused with a mysterious melody that drew Charles in, utterly enthralled.

He watched for over ten minutes before finally tearing himself away from the dazzling nebula of inheritance factors. Seizing a quill, he began to write furiously, line after line of complex patterns taking shape, filling the entire sheet of parchment.

An hour later, he paused at last, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Teacher, I’ve finished the drawing.”

Bruce glanced at it and said casually, “Very good, let’s move on to the next step—totem construction.”

Charles felt a weight lift from his heart. He had employed his master-level totem-drawing skills, pouring all his insights onto the page, terrified Bruce might notice something amiss. But Bruce seemed to trust him entirely, picking up the drawing and continuing with a series of gestures.

Gray light flared; the drawing began to float in the air, and the cocoon containing the little fox rose as well, settling atop the sheet.

Charles stared in astonishment. This was not how totems were normally constructed!

In the game, once the inheritance factors were analyzed, the drawing would be sent into the rune factory, where construction runes would use the factors to mass-produce totems.

But now, Bruce hadn’t used a rune factory at all. He seemed intent on forcibly constructing a totem directly from the little fox’s flesh and blood!

Would the totem still possess immortality after this? Damn it, who was this man, to wield such unimaginable methods?

As Charles watched in shock, the little fox let out a shrill, agonized scream. Its body twisted and reshaped at breakneck speed, like dough being kneaded and stretched, every bone warping and reforming.

Then, a shadowy figure slowly appeared behind Bruce, emanating an aura of unspeakable terror.

A mirror?

On seeing the shape of the shadow, Charles’s heart sank completely. The situation was now entirely outside his control. Bruce clearly was not the kind of Spiritmaster he knew.

This time, he was in real danger.

***

Outside, a seemingly ordinary carriage pulled up at the gate of the courtyard. From within emerged an enormous figure, his aura as menacing as a humanoid bear. The driver, Hans, was struck with terror and hurried forward to bow. “Master Marcus, this is—?”

“No need for words. I’m here to see what that man is capable of, to have the young master visit him more than once.” Marcus’s voice was cold, his eyes gleaming with murderous light that made Hans tremble from head to toe.

“The young master is the future lord of Goldflash Town. Some unsavory types are always scheming around him. I intend to make it clear—anyone who tries anything will answer to my axe!”

“Yes, Master Marcus!” Hans grew ever more anxious, worried Marcus would blame him for encouraging the young master’s adventure yesterday.

He knew perfectly well that the young master reigned unchallenged in the town because Marcus had repeatedly struck with thunderous force, killing more than a dozen people. The inhabitants of the town lived in terror of his bloody methods.

Two powerful guards followed behind Marcus. With a single kick, Marcus shattered the tightly closed wooden door and strode into the courtyard without a care.

But once inside, he found no sign of Charles or Bruce. He frowned. “Search the place. There must be a hidden door or passage here!”

“Yes, sir!”

The two guards obeyed, ransacking all three rooms, overturning chests and beds, even prying up the stone floor, leaving not a corner unchecked. The walls were soon covered with deep scratches, yet there was no trace of the missing pair.

Marcus’s expression grew ever darker. According to Hans, both men had been here in this very courtyard. Where had they gone? Could two living people simply vanish?

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside, growing closer. A tall, blood-red figure entered the room, glanced at Marcus, and spoke coolly, “Trash, get out of my way.”

“Foolish cur, you’re courting death!”
The frustration of not finding the young master, combined with the newcomer’s contempt, ignited Marcus’s fury. With a bellow, his huge fist roared through the air toward his adversary.

“Let’s see whose head is harder—yours, or my fist!”