Frustrated but determined, Vlad sighed deeply. But he wasn't one to give up so easily. If he didn't know how to proceed, he would seek out knowledge from those who did, or, more precisely, from something that did.
"System," he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the quiet of his tent. "How do I go about binding a wind slide spell to this card?"
It was the first time he had ever sought to tap into the ancient reserve of knowledge contained in the system. Perhaps it could guide me, he thought, his hope rekindling slightly.
The response was immediate, but not in the way he expected. Instead of offering guidance, the system posed a question.
[Do you wish to know?]
Vlad frowned, noting the small tag that appeared alongside the query: [Cost: 5%].
His heart sank as he realized the implications. He was already empty on his wish points reserves, he had no fraction of wish bar to spend. A wave of disappointment washed over him, and he leaned back, closing his eyes as he tried to suppress his growing frustration.
What's the use of having a system if I can't even afford to use it? he thought bitterly. But self‑pity wouldn't get him anywhere, and Vlad knew it. He needed another source of knowledge, and quickly.
If I'm going to learn how to do this, I need to seek out those who have mastered the art of magical binding. Vlad's mind raced to one of the magic lineages known for their mastery of magical artifacts and mystical equipment: the Shamanic Lineage.
Their magic was often intertwined with sacrifices, producing powerful and unique creations that were both respected and feared. If anyone could help him figure out how to bind a spell to an object, it would be them.
…
Vlad walked with purpose through the narrow paths of the rebel camp, the morning sun casting long shadows on the ground. His destination was the archives, a place he hadn't visited ever since joining the rebels.
Today, he was driven by a new purpose. His failures with spellbinding magic had left him with a burning need to understand the Shamanic Lineage and how their magic worked.
If the path to spellbinding magic that could be usable to him was hidden within their ancient practices, Vlad was determined to uncover it.
Upon reaching the entrance of the archives, he paused. The heavy wooden doors were marked with runes, a reminder of the vast knowledge contained within.
He pushed them open and was greeted by the familiar scent of old parchment and ink permeating the air. The archive was a labyrinth of towering shelves, each filled with scrolls, tomes, books, and artifacts collected over centuries.
"I miss this scent." Feeling nostalgic as he walked toward the archivist, his footsteps echoed softly against the stone floor.
Approaching the archivist, a wizened old man with a hunched back and sharp, calculating eyes, Vlad offered a word of greeting, then handed over twenty contribution points from his remaining sixty. It was a significant sum, but necessary to access the records he sought.
The archivist nodded, guiding Vlad toward a section of the archives dedicated to the Shamanic Lineage.
The records were vast and detailed, filled with rituals, histories, and testimonies from shamans and shamanesses long past. As Vlad pored over the texts, a clearer picture of their craft began to emerge.
Shamanic practitioners, he learned, wielded magic in a way unlike any other lineage. Their power was not born from the recitation of incantations or the inscription of runes, but from sacrifice.
They offered pure creatures–beasts with blood untainted by corruption to a mysterious being created by the Will of the Realm.
In return, they were bestowed with a vast reservoir of magic and a myriad of spells of specific ranks, gifts which could last for a year, five years, a decade, or even a century, depending on the life force of the sacrificed creature.
The more powerful the creature, the greater the reward. But with such power came danger. Vlad read with growing unease about how shamans and shamanesses advanced in their ranks.
Unlike wizards and witches who used higher‑ranked incantations to break through the ash layers around their magic, or sorcerers and sorceresses who inscribed runic symbols of a higher rank in their grimoires, practitioners of the Shamanic Art had to offer a life force greater than their own.
It was a perilous gamble, those without a strong enough mind to withstand the influx of power risked collapse, their minds shattering, leaving them vulnerable to corruption by the Defiled.
Vlad's eyes narrowed as he absorbed the implications of this knowledge. The sacrifices, the power, the risk, it all painted a picture of a lineage that walked a razor's edge between unimaginable power and utter ruin.
But there was more. Shamans could also create magical artifacts through sacrifice.
They would place a vessel; a weapon, a piece of armor, a talisman, or any object intended to hold magic on an altar beside the sacrifice, and once the offering was accepted, the vessel would be infused with the magic the shaman desired.
He felt a chill as he considered the possibilities. He knew that each lineage of magic was rigidly exclusive; only those born into a lineage could practice its magic.
But what if there was a way to bypass that restriction? What if the key lay not with the shamans themselves, but with the being they offered their sacrifices to?
"It must have an ability that gives it the capacity to bestow magic into a vessel, transforming the vessel into a magical artifact," he muttered, his mind racing with questions.
Who or what was this being? Could it grant him the power he sought, even though he was not of the Shamanic Lineage? Determined to find out, Vlad returned to the archivist, requesting information on the being that received the sacrifices.
The archivist's eyes gleamed with something akin to amusement as he demanded another twenty contribution points.
For just a single entity? Vlad hesitated. The cost was steep, but he paid it nonetheless. If this knowledge could unlock the power he needed, it was worth every point.
The information he received was surprising. The leader of the rebels in the Forsaken Land, Haziwr, was not just any shamaness, she was of high blood, a powerful practitioner of the Earl rank.
The records he uncovered were written by Haziwr herself, detailing her knowledge of the mysterious being.
Haziwr's writings were both detailed and insightful. She described the being that accepted the sacrifices as an enigmatic force, a creation of the Realm's Will that existed beyond mortal understanding.
According to her, this being did not simply grant magic; it facilitated a form of growth akin to the Sorcery Lineage.
Each time a shaman or shamaness ascended in rank, their magic grew, building upon the magic they had previously accumulated.
This was a stark contrast to the Witchcraft Lineage, where magic did not grow but instead unsealed itself as practitioners advanced.
In other words, while sorcerers and shamans accumulated more power with each rank, wizards and witches were uncovering the true potential of the magic they already possessed.
Vlad felt a thrill of anticipation. This being, this ancient entity, could be the key to his breakthrough. If he could somehow find out how the being was able to bind spells to a vessel, he would harness it for himself and use it to accomplish his goal.
"The future is indeed one to look forward to." Armed with this newfound knowledge, Vlad left the archives, his mind churning with possibilities.
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