Chapter 91 – The Horizon and the Unknown

  Eo hovered motionless, his many-layered form flickering in the dim light of the underground chamber. His gaze lingered on Antru, the ancient Grandmaster Mage, who still trembled faintly from the residual effects of the Faith Magic imitation Eo had subjected him to. The old man’s bark-like skin was cracked, his body frail from both time and prolonged captivity.

  Yet, even now, his will remained unbroken.

  Eo studied him for a long moment. Was it worth pressing further? He could extract the knowledge forcefully, but something made him hesitate. Understanding was not merely about obtaining information—it was about seeing the full picture, absorbing the underlying truths that formed the world’s foundation.

  And Eo had realized something important.

  He was rushing.

  His desire to understand everything had nearly led him down a path of reckless force. But he was not a simple beast, nor was he an impatient human. He could take his time.

  With that in mind, Eo made his decision.

  He let go.

  The abyssal pressure that had been subtly pressing down on Antru vanished. The mage sucked in a sharp breath, surprised that no further torment followed. He did not speak—whether out of caution or defiance, Eo did not know.

  It didn’t matter.

  Without another glance, Eo turned and left the chamber.

  Eo moved slowly at first, drifting through the underground tunnels before emerging into the open air. The moment he surfaced, he ascended, rising higher and higher until he reached the sky above the Magical Academy.

  There, he stopped.

  He rested atop one of the towering spires, his form adapting to the environment, blending in with the shadows cast by the setting sun. For the first time in a while, he simply observed.

  He watched the world.

  The vast horizon stretched endlessly before him, an expanse of land and sea illuminated by the twin suns of Tangea. One sun was golden, burning with a steady glow, while the other—its ancient guardian counterpart—was dimmer, more ominous, as if slumbering behind its veil of celestial power.

  Eo studied the shifting colors of the sky, the way the wind carried the scent of the ocean, the distant mountains, and the valleys carved over thousands of years.

  He watched the creatures of this world move with purpose. Birds soared effortlessly through the sky, their wings cutting through the wind as they hunted or played. Strange, reptilian creatures slithered through the trees, their scales reflecting the last light of the suns.

  Then, his gaze fell upon the Magical Academy.

  There, humans bustled about, some engaged in hurried discussions, others practicing their magic, their hands crackling with energy as they refined their spells. There were teachers, students, warriors, and scholars, each with their own goals, their own small perspectives.

  And yet, they were all limited.

  Unlike him.

  Unlike the being he had encountered.

  Eo's mind drifted back to that vision, to the incomprehensible entity that had momentarily looked upon him. Even now, the memory of its sheer scale sent a strange sensation through him—something akin to unease, yet mixed with an overwhelming desire to understand.

  He was still small.

  That fact was undeniable.

  And so, he continued watching. Learning. Expanding his view.

  Only when the suns finally dipped below the horizon, casting the world into twilight, did Eo finally move again.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  It was time to return.

  Back in the underground chamber, Eo did not immediately return to studying the mysterious blood.

  Instead, he picked up the formation talisman he had taken from the Holy Scout.

  A small, unassuming object—yet filled with complexity.

  This was the key.

  Magic formations were the foundation of many powerful spells, a structured way of manipulating energy. The last time he had attempted to create a large-scale magical structure—his Abyss Prison—it had failed, collapsing under its own instability.

  Now, with this talisman, Eo had the means to correct his mistakes.

  He activated his Core-Brain Hybrid, focusing all of his cognitive power on dissecting the talisman’s infrastructure.

  It was more than just a carrier of power—it was a carefully woven construct of layered intent, bound by sequences of magic that dictated function, energy flow, and purpose.

  For weeks, Eo studied it.

  He broke it apart, reassembled it, tested its limits, and rewrote its structure using his own methods. He applied mathematical precision to analyze the flow of magic through its network, comparing it to biological systems—his own newly developed Magic-Infused Neural Web.

  And in doing so, he found the answer.

  His Abyss Prison had collapsed because it lacked a proper anchor.

  Its structure had been too fluid, too uncontained. Unlike this talisman, which had distinct, stable cores of magic, Eo had attempted to make his formation purely adaptive—a mistake, because adaptation without structure led to instability.

  This was the missing piece.

  Eo had learned.

  Now, it was time to apply.

  With this new understanding, he could recreate his Abyss Prison. But more than that—he could refine it, perfect it.

  And once he had achieved that…

  He would be one step closer to transcending his limits.

  --

  Eo hovered over the processed bark sheets, his senses focused entirely on the smooth yet firm material before him. He had long realized that magic-infused talismans were not simply created by scribbling symbols onto ordinary parchment. There was a structure to them—an intricate, layered framework interwoven with magical pathways that dictated their function. Without understanding the essence of this process, even the most powerful magic would be wasted.

  He observed the surface of the talisman paper, channeling a tiny stream of his elemental energy through it. To his intrigue, the material responded slightly, absorbing and redirecting his magic in a structured manner. Unlike ordinary substances, this paper was not simply a medium—it was a guide, regulating and maintaining the flow of magic within its fibers.

  Humans had developed complex methods to create talismans, but Eo had no interest in merely copying their techniques. Instead, he wanted to understand them at their very core and reconstruct the process in a way that suited his unique being. If he were to weave the power of a talisman seamlessly into his body and magic system, he would have to master the very concept of formation weaving.

  He began with the fundamentals, using precise control over his magic to carve minuscule grooves into the surface of the paper. These were not simple scratches but carefully designed channels meant to hold and direct magical particles. Unlike human ink, which merely acted as a carrier for inscriptions, Eo decided to embed the magic directly into the material itself.

  At first, the magic refused to settle properly, scattering chaotically as soon as he released his control. The talisman would glow momentarily before the energy dissipated uselessly. Frustrated but intrigued, he adjusted his approach.

  He turned to his elemental blood, something unique to his existence. It was far denser than normal mana and held the potential to solidify formations without external reinforcement. With this in mind, he carefully mixed a droplet of his blood into the magic flow, watching as it seeped into the carved channels. This time, the energy remained stable, as if the talisman had accepted his essence as its foundation.

  Encouraged by this success, he experimented further. He began interweaving multiple layers of magic into the inscription, layering one type of energy over another in a carefully balanced structure. Fire-based runes overlapped with water-channeling scripts, stabilized by a neutral binding force that prevented them from clashing destructively. The process required immense precision, but his neural web and evolved core-brain allowed him to perceive the formation at a microscopic level, adjusting even the slightest imperfections before they could cause instability.

  Time passed in a blur as he lost himself in the process. The deeper he delved, the more he understood the hidden logic behind talisman creation. Every successful formation required a stable medium, a precise inscription method, and a binding essence to anchor the magic within. The processed bark paper served as an ideal foundation, capable of containing and directing magical energy without breaking down. However, he noted its limitations. If he were to craft talismans of immense power, he would need an even more advanced medium.

  The grooves he carved acted as pathways for magic, similar to the veins and nervous system within a living being. Without a clear structure, the energy would scatter and fail. But structure alone wasn’t enough. Magic alone was unstable, prone to dispersal when lacking an anchor. By infusing it with his own elemental blood, he created a bond that allowed the talisman to retain its energy indefinitely.

  After dozens of trials, he finally succeeded in crafting his first functional talisman. A faint hum resonated from the sheet as glowing runes pulsed gently on its surface. It was a simple energy-gathering talisman, meant to passively absorb and store ambient magic over time. Yet, to him, it was proof of concept—a stepping stone toward greater mastery.

  Still, he wasn’t satisfied. His ultimate goal wasn’t just to replicate human techniques but to surpass them entirely. He began considering how talismans could be integrated into his own body, forming a network of embedded formations that enhanced his abilities. If he could refine this process, he would no longer be limited to external tools—he would become a living formation.

  With this realization, a new path unfolded before him. He had only scratched the surface of this field, but for the first time, he glimpsed the vast potential hidden within it.

  And Eo never stopped at mere glimpses. He intended to take it all.