Translator: CinderTL
"These inscriptions..."
Having nearly lost consciousness to the sword's inscriptions earlier, Roland held his breath, focused his mental power intensely, and carefully examined the newly emerged runes.
"They seem... somewhat similar to the script on the scroll Graham gave me, the one about activating bloodline secret arts."
With this thought, Roland temporarily shifted his gaze and retrieved the sheepskin scroll he always carried from his waist pouch.
"Just as I thought..."
After a meticulous comparison, Roland nodded slightly.
The script on the sword shared common characteristics with the scroll's script, though there were subtle differences in certain strokes and structures.
Even with this confirmation, the meaning of the inscriptions remained shrouded in mystery.
Each twisted character seemed sealed behind an invisible yet impenetrable barrier, refusing to reveal its true meaning to him.
He could sense the immense power and ancient aura contained within them, yet he couldn't decipher a single word. This sense of separation was strikingly clear.
Roland frowned slightly, his fingertips instinctively increasing the flow of mana into the sword.
The moment the mana flow intensified, he keenly detected a subtle anomaly he had previously overlooked.
The dark, shimmering runes on the blade weren't fixed and unchanging. Instead, they seemed to subtly adjust and shift in response to the strength of the magic element he channeled into them.
This discovery invigorated him.
Without hesitation, Roland focused his spirit.
Free-floating magic elements in the air surged through the dragonbone bracelet on his wrist and into his body. Then, like a flood released from its dam, they poured continuously into the Mithril Longsword.
As the mana surged inward, an even more profound change washed over him.
He vividly recalled his initial attempts to probe the Mithril Longsword when he first learned it was a Treasure Tool.
Back then, the sensation had been unmistakable.
Whether he used mental power or magic elements, both felt as if they were crashing against an invisible, impenetrable wall, utterly blocked from penetrating even a fraction of an inch.
The sensation of resistance and rejection had been exceptionally clear.
But now, after the deep enchantment through the Elemental Imprint, the mithril structure within the longsword had perfectly fused with the power of the wind element, forming a completely new mana conduit shaped by Roland himself.
The mana now flowed not as a forced intrusion, but rather like a river surging through a cleared channel, unimpeded and responsive as an extension of his own will.
As the mana continued to pour in, the sword's reaction became increasingly pronounced.
The originally obscure and constantly shifting Inscriptions, as if activated by a gradually increasing "fuel," began to evolve at an accelerated pace, their structures stabilizing.
They seemed to reorganize themselves, slowly twisting, stretching, and coalescing within the flowing silver light.
Finally, when the mana infusion reached a critical threshold, all movement abruptly ceased.
The Inscriptions froze into a new yet strangely familiar form.
Though still ancient and complex, the heavy screen that had previously blocked comprehension had vanished.
Roland stared intently at the stabilized characters on the sword's surface, his brow furrowed, focusing all his mental power as he attempted to match each twisting, coiling stroke with the knowledge from the scroll in his mind.
The process was excruciatingly difficult. Each symbol felt like a massive boulder, requiring immense mental effort to pry loose its hidden meaning.
He deciphered the words one by one, his spirit focused to its utmost. His lips moved silently as he pieced together the fragmented information.
"By... the essence of wind... as guide, shake... the mountain range... roar... into silence. At... the dimming of stars and moon... tear... the ancient covenant..."
These disjointed fragments hinted at grand imagery, yet the specific connections and complete instructions remained shrouded in mist, impossible to string together.
As Roland silently recited the words, the ancient inscriptions on the sword's blade seemed to come alive.
The flowing silver radiance began to contract inward, condensing.
No longer evenly coating the blade, the light pulsed rhythmically, like breathing, with each silent word he uttered.
With each pulse, the characters seemed to sharpen, becoming more three-dimensional, as if straining to break free from the mithril's embrace and rise into reality.
A faint hum began to vibrate through the still air.
The scenery around the sword's blade distorted slightly.
This wasn't due to heat, but wind.
Pure, untamed wind element surged uncontrollably from the sword's body, forming invisible yet tangible currents that swirled around the blade, hissing like a sigh.
Sensing the anomaly, Roland slowly furrowed his brow. Just then, a sudden transformation occurred.
The Mithril Longsword in his hand abruptly turned icy cold and...
ravenous.
No longer content with passively receiving mana, it began to forcefully drain the magic element from his body like a bottomless vortex, insatiably and aggressively.
Roland recoiled in shock, attempting to sever the connection, but found his mental power ensnared by invisible shackles. Mana poured uncontrollably from him, flooding into the greedy blade.
The magical pathways that had been as docile as his own limbs now transformed into conduits of plunder.
A wave of overwhelming exhaustion crashed over him. Deep within his mind, needle-like stabs of pain erupted—the warning signals of his mental power being dangerously overtaxed.
"I must stop this immediately!"
The instinct for survival finally overwhelmed his curiosity.
Roland groaned, forcibly severing the mana connection between himself and the longsword through sheer willpower.
The backlash of mental power left him dizzy, and he stumbled half a step before regaining his balance.
The sword's glow rapidly faded, and the newly sharpened Inscriptions vanished, reverting to the cold, metallic appearance as if the ravenous consumption and the faintly revealed grand narrative had been nothing more than an illusion.
Despite the throbbing pain in his spirit and the near-exhaustion draining his body, Roland's gaze remained fixed on the now-still blade.
Every detail of the terrifying experience that had nearly consumed him replayed vividly in his hyper-focused mind: the icy touch, the domineering drain, and that heart-stopping "hunger"...
Yet, at the brink of losing control, his perception—sharpened by the Elemental Imprint's intimate connection to the sword—had detected another subtle rhythm.
"Its 'demand' isn't uniform..."
Roland endured the stinging pain, desperately trying to reconstruct what had happened.
"When I recited those fragments, the rate at which mana flowed... seemed to fluctuate slightly depending on the concentration of my mental power and the rhythm of my recitation."
A daring hypothesis surfaced in his mind.
Could it be that I don't need to read all the Inscriptions completely? If I carefully control the output of mana and mental power, reciting only limited sections within my endurance limits, could I guide out a portion—not all—of this Treasure Tool's corresponding strength?
The idea invigorated him, temporarily suppressing his discomfort.
He gripped the sword hilt again, but this time with unprecedented caution, as if walking along the edge of a cliff.
Holding his breath, he wrapped his mental power around the hilt thread by thread.
No longer a surging flood, but a gentle stream, the flow of magic elements was strictly controlled.
Then, focusing his spirit, he silently recited the few fragments he had already understood.
"By the essence of wind..."
Mana began to flow, but at a slow, steady pace.
The sword trembled slightly, and the hidden inscriptions reappeared, flickering with a faint glow but without generating the terrifying suction force.
Roland maintained his focus, preserving this fragile balance as he continued to channel his will.
"Shake the mountain range..."
As he reached this point in the incantation, he clearly felt the flow of mana accelerate sharply, and his mental power began to drain at an alarming rate.
He immediately ceased chanting and simultaneously cut off most of the mana supply.
In that instant of interruption, a phenomenon occurred.
The overwhelming, uncontrollable power from before did not manifest. Instead, a pale azure aura, visible to the naked eye, materialized above the keen blade, swirling like a living entity.
The aura clung tightly to the silvery edge, emitting a faint yet razor-sharp hissing sound.
Free-floating wind elements in the air were forcibly drawn in, imbuing the aura with a tangible sharpness.
A thought struck Roland. He gently swung the sword toward a discarded iron ingot lying in the corner of the workbench.
There was no heavy metallic clang, only an almost imperceptible hiss.
The blade sliced through the iron ingot as effortlessly as cutting through soft clay, smoothly shaving off a corner with a mirror-like finish.
Moreover, when Roland subtly focused his mind, attempting to propel the lingering Wind Force forward, a pale blue arc, less than a foot long and as thin as a cicada's wing, suddenly detached from the sword's tip. It flew a short distance before silently dissipating into the air, leaving only a shallow cut mark on the wooden workbench it passed over.
"Just as I suspected..."
Roland exhaled slowly, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of realization and delight.
Though he couldn't yet unlock the Treasure Tool's true power by invoking its true name, he had discovered a way to utilize it in its current state.
Through precise control, fragmented incantations, and focused channeling, he could activate auxiliary yet highly practical abilities such as "entangling wind blades to greatly enhance sharpness" and "releasing weak wind pressure sword qi."
This was merely the tip of the iceberg, far from the Treasure Tool's full potential, but for his current level of strength, it was an invaluable asset.
(End of the Chapter)
------------------------------------------------------
📚 Continue Reading [KNIGHT] on 𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖑.𝖈𝖔𝖒.
👉 Read upto [66] Free Chapters ahead. No Login Required! Members can read upto [194] Chapters ahead.
Read 16 other high quality novels with 11.7K Chapters, only on 𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝕞.
------------------------------------------------------