My fingers traced over the worn cover, my mind already piecing together what I had learned about this particular spell.
Eye-Blood Aura
A spell designed to block external tracking and magical detection, making the user practically invisible to those who sought them through magical means.
The name alone sounded ominous, and now that I was reading through its incantations, formation techniques, and theory, I understood why it was so feared.
Most mages refused to even attempt learning it.
Not because it was ineffective far from it.
The problem was the nature of the spell itself.
Unlike most spells that drew power from the environment or magical energy reserves, Eye-Blood Aura was a self-inflicted curse.
It fed off the user's own magic and vitality, forming an unstable yet powerful anti-detection barrier.
This was why many mages avoided it.
If handled improperly, they could spiral out of control, leading to permanent magical damage or worse, death.
I turned another page, my eyes scanning the detailed description of the spell’s effects.
The first stage of casting the spell involved infusing a portion of my magic into my own body, allowing it to circulate through my bloodstream.
This altered the way external magic interacted with me, making magical detection techniques struggle to recognize my presence.
The second stage was the curse itself.
Once the magic was circulating within, the spell required a small sacrifice—a drop of blood infused with mana.
The moment the blood was released, the spell would activate, fully obscuring me from tracking spells, scrying, and even life-detection magic.
But there was a cost.
The more energy I used while the spell was active, the faster it drained me.
If I pushed myself too hard, it could weaken my body significantly, leaving me vulnerable.
I exhaled slowly, closing the book for a moment.
"Now I understand why people think this spell is complex and dangerous."
I had seen many complex spells in my time, but this was different.
“A tool for those who valued stealth and survival over raw power.”
I knew I had made the right decision by choosing to learn this first.
As much as I wanted to study the summoning spell first—its power and mystery enticing—I couldn’t afford to let emotions dictate my learning.
If I wanted to stay alive, if I wanted to avoid being tracked down again by Eval, Freedom of Amber, or anyone else—I needed to prioritize Eye-Blood Aura.
I opened the book again, this time carefully reading through the casting process.
"A self-inflicted curse must be crafted carefully."
"The caster must visualize their presence dissolving into nothing."
"The blood sacrifice acts as a key, unlocking the hidden state."
The book continued on about precise energy control and balancing the curse, but one line stood out to me.
"The true strength of this spell is not its ability to hide you—but its ability to confuse those who seek you."
I tapped my fingers against the desk, letting that thought settle in.
This wasn’t just about erasing my presence. It was about disorienting my enemies.
Making them second-guess their spells. Making them believe I was somewhere else.
I smirked slightly.
"A deception tool as much as a defensive spell. Interesting."
I took a deep breath and stood up, rolling my shoulders.
The best way to learn a spell was to practice it directly.
I walked over to the small table where my dagger rested.
A small, sharp blade, perfect for making the necessary blood sacrifice.
Placing the book beside me, I closed my eyes and started focusing my magical energy inward.
The first step: Infusing my own bloodstream with mana.
I could feel it—my energy circulating, flowing through my veins like liquid fire. It was an odd sensation, but I kept my focus.
"Now comes the hard part."
I picked up the dagger and pressed it against my palm, just enough to draw a single drop of blood.
The moment the blood touched the air, I whispered the incantation.
The energy in my body shifted.
A strange, weightless feeling settled over me, as if I was becoming less tangible, less real.
My breathing slowed. My senses sharpened.
For the first time, I felt what it meant to be unseen by magic.
I opened my eyes and reached out with my own magic, attempting to sense my own presence.
I couldn’t.
A grin spread across my face.
"It worked."
But before I could celebrate, a sudden wave of fatigue washed over me. My knees buckled slightly, my vision dimming for a moment.
"Damn… the drain is worse than I thought."
I quickly steadied myself, sitting back down on the chair.
Eye-Blood Aura was powerful, but it came with a price.
I exhaled and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
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"I’ll need to train this extensively before I can use it in real combat."
For now, I had succeeded.
But this was only the first step.
It wasn’t just difficult—it was on an entirely different level compared to anything I had learned before.
Most spells required just two essential components:
-
Imagination – The ability to visualize the spell’s structure and effect.
-
Magical Energy Activation – The process of shaping mana to execute the imagined spell.
For simpler spells, like Energy Bolt, these two elements alone were enough. No need for spoken words, no elaborate rituals—just the raw force of will and the push of magic.
But high-level magic… that was another story.
I recalled the first theoretical magic book I had studied days ago, which explained that Adept-Level Mages and higher relied on incantations and key phrases to invoke their spells completely. These weren’t just words—they were like a mage’s signature, a sequence that aligned their magical energy with the structure of the spell itself.
Without them, the spell simply wouldn’t work.
Eye-Blood Aura, however, demanded more than just an incantation.
It required:
Imagination – To form and sustain the complex structure of the spell.
Magical Energy Activation – To fuel the magic and bring it to life.
Incantation – A precise set of words to bind the spell to my being.
A Curse Placement – Self-inflicted magic to anchor the spell within me.
A Sacrifice – The use of my own blood as a trigger.
Advanced Control – Without precise regulation, the spell could drain me dry.
This was unlike anything I had ever worked with.
I let out a long breath, leaning forward as I turned the page, my eyes scanning the delicate script.
"This will take time."
A week at minimum—maybe more.
If I rushed it, I could easily miscalculate the balance of magic and curse energy, and instead of concealing myself from tracking spells, I might end up crippling my own magic flow permanently.
That was a risk I couldn’t afford.
I shut the book, my fingers tightening around its cover.
"I need to break this down."
The best way to approach this spell was in stages.
Before I even attempted casting, I had to deeply visualize how Eye-Blood Aura worked.
I needed to form a mental image of my presence dissolving like ink being dropped into a vast ocean, vanishing into its depths.
I closed my eyes and pictured it.
A phantom outline of myself, fading into the air, dissolving into the background like smoke.
If I couldn’t convince myself that I could vanish from magical detection, then my magic wouldn’t obey.
"Magic is as much about belief as it is about power," I muttered under my breath.
I had to see myself disappear before I could make it happen.
Unlike my usual spells, where magic was released outward, Eye-Blood Aura required me to circulate my energy internally.
This meant rewiring how I channeled magic.
Instead of unleashing energy through my hands or voice, I had to bind it into my bloodstream, shaping it into a barrier that concealed me.
And then there was the sacrifice—a drop of blood infused with mana.
A small price, but one that carried great meaning.
Most spells drew power from the world or the mage’s reserves this one took its strength from the caster’s very life force.
It was almost like making a deal with magic itself.
"I give a part of myself, and in return, I become unseen."
It was risky, but effective.
The final challenge was maintaining balance.
Unlike simple spells that had a clear beginning and end, Eye-Blood Aura didn’t just stop when I wanted it to.
The spell had to be carefully regulated or it could easily spiral out of control, draining me until I collapsed from exhaustion.
This was what made it so rare and difficult to master.
Even if a mage could cast it, few had the ability to keep it stable for long.
I exhaled sharply and stood up, pacing the room.
"I need a controlled space to practice."
If I cast this spell in the inn, it would be too dangerous if something went wrong, I didn’t want witnesses or interference.
I needed a secluded area where I could test its effects in safety.
Perhaps an abandoned alleyway, or even outside the city walls in a quiet forest clearing.
I tapped my fingers against the desk, deep in thought.
"I’ll give myself one week."
One week to study, prepare, and practice in controlled bursts.
If I failed to grasp the fundamentals in that time, I’d set the spell aside and focus on other forms of concealment.
I couldn’t afford to waste too much time on one technique, no matter how powerful it was.
Still, I had a feeling—if I could master this spell, it would give me an incredible advantage against Eval, Freedom of Amber, and anyone else who tried to track me down.
"A mage who can’t be found is a mage who can’t be controlled."
A smirk tugged at my lips.
This was going to be worth it.
Reaching forward, I grabbed the second spellbook I had purchased: Cursed Crimson Globe.
"Let’s see what you’re all about," I muttered under my breath, flipping open the cover.
I had long understood that relying on just a few basic spells was a recipe for disaster.
Energy Bolt and Energy Dart were useful, but their power was limited, and against stronger mages, they barely made a difference.
I had survived my previous battles because of instinct, fast reactions, and creativity, not because my spells were particularly powerful.
But instincts could only take me so far.
The enemies I had faced—the golden bolt mage, the tentacle summoner, and even Elenora’s group—all had a wider arsenal of spells than I did.
Their diversity in magic gave them an edge.
“In all of these battles, I always felt that my pure magical energy and power of my energy is higher than them.”
If I wanted to reach the next level, I needed to stop relying on quick thinking alone and start building a spell repertoire that could handle different situations.
"If I don’t start improving now, my next battle might be my last."
I turned the page and started reading.
At first glance, the spell was... strange.
Unlike Eye-Blood Aura, which was built on concealment and self-inflicted curses, Cursed Crimson Globe was aggressive—a spell that combined summoning magic and blood magic into one unique technique.
The premise was simple:
The user summons a floating sphere of condensed cursed energy, tinged with blood magic.
The sphere can linger, following the caster’s will.
Once commanded to attack, it either rams the target and explodes on impact, dealing both physical and magical damage or uses a beam of red-light to corrode and deal magical damage to the enemy.
I raised an eyebrow.
"So… it’s like a floating commandable suicide bomb that can also shoot red beams of light...?"
It sounded great, but what caught my attention the most was the versatility and practical use of it.
As long as one is smart enough to manipulate the Crimson Globe or Globes. Things and formations that can be formed were endless.
I clenched my fists, my heart pounding in excitement.
"Now this… this I can work with."
Every spell had a core foundation—a structure that determined how it was cast, maintained, and controlled.
Cursed Crimson Globe had four essential steps:
Forming the Sphere – Concentrating cursed energy and magical energy into a solid, floating mass.
Maintaining Control – Keeping the sphere stable and obedient to my will.
Commanding the Attack – Directing the sphere towards an enemy or a target an enemy for it to attack with it is red-beam magic spell.
The book warned that most mages failed at the step of controlling the Crimson Globe because the curse energy inside the sphere resisted the user’s control.
I tapped my fingers against the wooden desk.
"So it’s like taming a wild beast?"
It made sense.
Cursed energy as well as blood enrgy was different from pure magical energy—it wasn’t neutral. It had a will of its own, much like the chaotic nature of dark magic.
This meant that once I formed the Cursed Crimson Globe, I had to constantly reinforce my control over it, otherwise, it could turn against me or collapse entirely.
I took a deep breath and cracked my knuckles.
"Enough theory. Let’s see if I can actually cast it."
I stood up and moved to the center of the room, placing both hands forward.
I focused my magical power, pulling on the cursed essence and blood energy required to create the spell.
A faint red mist began to swirl in my palms.
"So far, so good."
I pushed more energy into the mist, condensing it into a small sphere.
The ball of energy twitched in my hands, resisting my control.
Then, without warning—
BOOM!
The energy dispersed in a harmless puff of red smoke, vanishing into the air.
I winced.
"Well, that was disappointing."
I shook my hands, trying to refocus.