Chapter 177: Ku Ku

"The snake's gone again?"

This summoning summoned a spirit, yet it behaved like a stray cat—mostly invisible—making Li En quite uncomfortable.

But viewed from another angle, it might not be without benefits.

Without the state or personality shifts caused by a spirit's possession, and without a new power system or knowledge to learn, Li En could finally be still.

He had time to further digest the "treasures" of Su Er and Ku Ku.

After Ku Ku arrived right after Su Er, Li En immediately shifted his focus to the caster and had no time to process Su Er's "legacy."

If not for the snake's reminder, he hadn't even realized he was already close to actualizing the "Wall-Breaker" (Su Er's soul).

Dimon's progress also reminded him that, despite holding Su Er's legacy, he was actually slow on the path of the Holy Knight.

With Su Er's final gift, his first three ranks should have been effortless.

And the newly acquired Ku Ku "legacy"—with its overwhelming magical knowledge—demanded more time and energy to absorb.

"Ah, I see. Your understanding of the immobilization spell on humanoid creatures is already mature—you'll master it soon."

At lunchtime, Li En didn't take his leave; instead, he invited Luo Yisi to lunch as a "teacher's thanks."

Luo Yisi, who had already intended to befriend him, naturally didn't refuse. As they talked, Luo Yisi was, in fact, continuing to "test" Li En.

In this world, many secret arts, special items, and even potions can force one to grasp magic—yet that "borrowed" magic is entirely different from magic learned through study.

As a short-term course instructor, he had no reason or motive to block Li En (his salary wasn't enough to risk making enemies).

Even if Li En used a magical item to cast a second-ring spell, as long as he successfully cast it before him, Luo Yisi would pass him.

In reality, many noble youths obtained their "certificates" this way. But if it involved his own reputation as a "student recommender," that was another matter entirely.

Some things become clear with a simple question or chat—but the more Luo Yisi talked, the more alarmed he became.

He had assumed Li En was accelerating his learning somehow, but his magical knowledge base was unexpectedly solid.

From casual conversation alone, it was clear that several second-ring spells had already reached the threshold of knowledge accumulation—only one final step remained.

Especially regarding evocation and transmutation knowledge, his insights were sharply distinct from contemporary mainstream views—clearly the result of a master's teaching.

"Er… why don't you just become the apprentice of the master who taught you magic?" Luo Yisi finally asked.

"He left. Went far away." Li En smiled in reply.

"Oh? Then he must be an extremely powerful archmage." Luo Yisi asked casually, curious about which ring this archmage belonged to.

"Yes. He is the greatest mage I know."

Luo Yisi nodded, not taking it seriously—among apprentices, Qimengdaoshi were always godlike figures.

The mage world was relatively slow to pick up external gossip; the noble circle's anecdote about "Lifting-the-High" Knight hadn't reached Luo Yisi's circle yet.

Only after some time, when the anecdote spread alongside the rumor of "Li En's encounter with a ninth-ring lich," would Luo Yisi realize the true weight behind Li En's words: "the greatest mage I know."

In truth, Li En's unhesitating choice of evocation had another reason: Ku Ku's magical knowledge base contained a hidden bonus.

"Ku Ku's Chain Fire Rain is indeed a tough assignment."

This was Ku Ku's own creation—one of the rare spells in magical history to bear his personal signature.

And because it was composed early in his career, it still used Ku Ku's original name.

In Li En's knowledge base, these spells were not the original "Ku Ku Fire Rain" series, but his own improved versions, synthesized with the latest magical knowledge from these past days.

The original versions had been discarded by later generations—this was why mages mentioning Ku Ku remained unaware of their true origins.

And because Ku Ku, in his earlier days, lacked high-ring practical casting ability, these spells were merely "conceptual designs," not finished products—Li En needed to learn and perfect them himself.

This was precisely why he was willing to undertake this challenge—the test that spans time and history.

Honestly, from a STEM perspective, it was rather romantic—though the difficulty seemed absurdly high.

"One third-ring, one fifth-ring, and one ninth-ring…" The ninth-ring was the most insane—the original was a seventh-ring, but after Ku Ku added too many new theories and concepts, the difficulty skyrocketed, pushing the theoretical casting difficulty to ninth-ring.

But viewed differently, having a ninth-ring spell's knowledge sitting right in your mind—how many casters could refuse?

"Probably need to study transmutation as well—but that's not urgent."

Fire Rain was clearly an evocation spell, but most spells were inherently "impure."

Magical schools merely broadly categorized spells by their fundamental traits—casting techniques, effects, and so on. The higher the ring, the more complex the spell, and naturally, it incorporated knowledge and techniques from other schools—just in varying degrees.

The most obvious entanglement was between evocation and conjuration: evocation is the art of controlling elements, yet in many spells, the controlled elements are actually summoned from other planes via elemental plane coordinates, consuming mana—thus inevitably involving conjuration (spatial) knowledge.

Sometimes, misunderstandings and prejudices became common sense.

The most classic example was the "Colorful Orb"—summoning an elemental sphere from another plane and hurling it at an opponent. It clearly looked like conjuration, yet it was classified as evocation.

A spell's school classification wasn't fixed; improved versions incorporating vast knowledge from other schools naturally shifted their categorization—no need to obsess over it. And since Ku Ku was an alchemical master, his evocation spells contained abundant transmutation knowledge. In Li En's own assessment, the Ku Ku Fire Rain series was highly suitable for him.

Primarily because, like Ku Ku himself, it delivered multi-stage area fire damage (multi-headed dragon), perfectly triggering Li En's own "Wall-Breaker Soul Ability."

Its preset combat effect resembled a fusion of the classic Heat Ray and Fireball—Li En was quite optimistic about it. The only drawback was its standard mana cost: roughly double that of a typical same-ring spell.

But for Li En, it wasn't a problem—he was of Red Dragon lineage, and fire spell mana consumption was nearly halved.

After lunch, Li En took his leave. His schedule for the day in Huicheng District was packed.

Some issues were surfacing more clearly—even if unsolvable, he needed to start thinking of ways to overcome them.

The top priority: armor problem! Li En could no longer tolerate the agony of casting in armor.

"Just for maintenance and repair, you want eleven gold coins? You might as well rob me! I've had this for less than half a month!"

Li En brought his armor back to the dwarf shop and received a shocking repair quote.

The dwarf craftsman tapped the armor, examined the dents and the dragon-claw marks, and his expression turned grim.

"You know it's only been half a month. I suspect you slaughtered a dragon and wrestled a giant within this period—and you're still alive? Isn't that proof of my armor's quality? The steel frame is deformed; the areas hit by the dragon need repainting. This price is already a loss."

Li En sighed. What could he say? He paid.

The dwarf was right—this armor had proven its quality. The shell was deformed, not his bones.

But sadly, mere hardness no longer met Li En's growing needs.

"Is there truly no solution to casting in armor? I'm already a second-ring mage?"

The dwarf glanced sideways at him. Second-ring? Even ninth-ring wouldn't help.

"Dreams are for dreaming!" (Dwarf curse, poetic translation.) The irritable dwarf shoved Li En aside and began repairing.

As he said, such heavy damage in such a short time meant the base frame had to be rebuilt—repairing was already a losing deal.

He charged this price only out of respect for Li En's face as a warrior bold enough to fight dragons!

High-ring mages? Those tricksters weren't worth respect.

Watching the dwarf hammer away, Li En shrugged and left the forge. Clearly, solving casting-in-armor with dwarves was impossible.

Previously, Li En had tolerated it because zero- and first-ring cantrips had negligible combat value—better to just swing his sword one more time.

Now, second-ring spells were highly effective in combat, and third-ring held a host of overpowered spells—he could no longer endure this restriction.

"I can't afford speed boots, but once I reach third-ring, I'll just cast Haste on myself before charging—it's the same." Li En couldn't bear to imagine: after finally finding a moment on the battlefield to cast Haste, he'd fail the spell right before his opponent's face.

The image was too beautiful—he dared not look.

"I refuse to believe there's no solution." This was a classic dilemma—many needed it; there must be solutions, at least partial ones.

But Li En's public standing was too low—he seemed unable to find any leads.

Li En had confirmed: solving this problem was his top priority, the key to unifying his mage and holy knight powers into a cohesive combat force—otherwise, he'd remain two separate entities.

Whether he could achieve a short-term combat breakthrough depended entirely on when he solved this problem.

"Where's the snake? Again, it vanishes when I need it?"

"You're looking for me?" A familiar voice suddenly came from his shoulder.

Li En turned his head and saw a lazy little black snake, reeking of alcohol—obviously just returned from some drunken escapade.

"Eh!" The snake suddenly belched—a thick wave of alcohol fumes forced Li En to stagger back.

"You drunken bastard, keep your distance!" Li En felt dizzy—this was magical assault, wasn't it? Hadn't he even sobered up from yesterday's drink?

"Hmph, ignorant brat. A single drop of this could kill you. What do you want? I'm busy—heading back to sleep."

Li En sighed and explained his problem.

For issues requiring "discovery" rather than "invention," the well-traveled snake should have a reliable answer.

"This? Easy. At least thirty classic solutions exist—but…" The snake's eyes gleamed with mischief—he had a new idea.

It wasn't the difficulty of your request that scared him—it was the lack of one. Demand created cause.

With cause, new stories could be woven.

"... or you right now, only four or five apply. But…"

"Cost? Not everything, I hope."

"Why would I want all that? I want fun—new fun!"

(End of Chapter)