Chapter 45: Magic Tattoo
In the skies above Silver Scale Bay, Greyhawk gently circled on the sea breeze, his gaze firmly locked on several shadow figures below that looked like ants.
The sun set in the west, and the sky grew increasingly dim.
Cooking smoke rose in the fishing town, lamps lit up one by one, pedestrians on the street dwindled by more than half, making it much quieter.
Several blue-robed figures hurried along, soon arriving at a secluded dock, successively slipping into a warehouse.
The warehouse was dilapidated, the large door askew, the roof leaking several large holes, clearly abandoned for a long time.
As night fell, ghosting shadow figures appeared around the warehouse, and in less than half an hour, more than a dozen people had entered.
Anse in the inn learned this news and sighed, feeling there was no hope for today.
He hadn’t expected a small fishing town to have so many cultists.
About an hour passed.
The cult gathering in the warehouse finally ended, shadow figures leaving in batches, heading in different directions, very cautious.
Anse thought they were just being overly paranoid; now, besides himself, who else had the mind to watch them.
Gais and the other two were the last to come out, so that elite professional must be the head of this area.
However, after the three emerged, they surprisingly split up; two returned the way they came, while one boarded alone a small sailing ship moored at the dockside—judging by his build, it was the elite professional.
“Could there be a trap?” Brat thought it was too coincidental.
Finn immediately communicated with Greyhawk, having him descend lower to scout, confirming no one else was following.
“They shouldn’t have seen us; when we went out to eat, they were always in the room.” Anse carefully recalled and found no oversights.
“Maybe that guy doesn’t live here and came to meet someone.” Brat speculated.
“Possible.” Anse nodded. “Let’s go, no time to waste.”
The three took their weapons, donned robes to cover their faces, and quickly left Moon Shadow Kui Ling.
The doorman saw their attire and seemed long accustomed to it, neither questioning nor stopping them.
They silently wove through the quiet streets of the fishing town, arriving early at a road junction and hiding in the adjacent alley.
Brat and the other hid in the shadows at the alley mouth, Anse a bit farther away, his mana concealed but ready.
No one spoke; only faint breathing sounds could be heard.
A few minutes later, footsteps approached, and two black shadows appeared at the alley mouth.
Just as they were about to pass the alley, an obscure dragon speech suddenly shattered the silence.
“
「Metamagic」+「Metamagic: Twinned Spell」+「Hold Person」!
The two blue-robed men were horrified, but before they could see who it was, their bodies went numb, movements halting as they froze like wooden statues.
Brat grinned silently, rushing to the two in a few steps; a cold gleam flashed, and with a swish, he severed one’s head, blood spraying like a fountain everywhere.
【Target Death, gained 69 combat experience】
With a smack, Finn struck the wand from the other’s hand with his knife’s flat, then elbowed his jaw loose and pinned him to the ground, binding his limbs in a few moves.
Brat saw his practiced motions, his eye twitching, seriously suspecting Finn had some side hustle before.
“Didn’t kill the wrong one, right?” Anse trotted over small steps; actually, he knew from the combat experience it was correct.
“Don’t worry, no mistake.” Brat was meticulous; he couldn’t miss just by silhouette.
Finn yanked off the hood of the one on the ground, revealing Gais’s horrified face.
“Clean up the body, withdraw now.” Anse urged.
Though secluded here, people occasionally passed by.
Brat pulled out a waterproof cloth bag, stuffed the corpse in; the two each shouldered one and quickly followed Anse.
“Woo woo…”
Gais’s face was full of terror; he wanted to speak but couldn’t, struggling nonstop, annoying Finn a bit.
He elbowed the other’s groin; the world went instantly quiet.
Anse found a remote ruined house; Brat stood vigil outside.
With a bang, Gais felt himself slammed hard to the ground, jagged rocks painfully digging into him; he tried to open his mouth, but his jaw throbbed intensely.
“Crack—”
Finn roughly reset his jaw.
Gais gritted his teeth, not daring to cry out; looking up, a figure in a black cloak loomed over him, moonlight spilling through roof holes casting a shadow.
“Who are you?” He widened his eyes, trying to see the face under the hood.
“Gais?” Anse said softly.
“It’s me.” Gais’s heart sank; not a random attack. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it all. My mentor is an elite professional; if I die, he’ll investigate to the end.”
“Your mentor… what’s his name?” Anse’s expression was odd.
“Yarvis; we just parted…” Gais tried to make them wary.
“Isn’t your mentor named Fabian?”
“Ah, who the hell are you?” Gais asked in shock and doubt.
“Doesn’t matter; I ask, you answer!” Anse deliberately withheld, to frustrate him.
Only idiot villains reveal their identity just to satisfy some revenge urge. Dead men tell no tales; better to play it safe.
“If I tell you everything, will you let me go?”
“Depends on your performance.”
Gais closed his eyes, expression despairing; he feared death and torture, resigning himself: “Ask away.”
“How did you join the Blue Flame Cult?”
“Ah?” Gais’s expression stiffened; the other seemed to know everything. He didn’t dare hide, spilling all he knew.
One asked, one answered, the rhythm quick.
One side prevented thinking, the other had no intent to conceal.
Gais stole Fabian’s relics and smoothly fled to Rivertown District; after confirming the Magic Net issue, all hope shattered, years of persistence turned to bubbles.
Then the Blue Flame Cult began proselytizing among the folk, targeting low-level wizards and magic apprentices first.
Gais was overjoyed, using gold to pave the way, successfully contacting his current mentor Yarvis, spending most of his wealth to become a sorcerer.
The process was simple: he just drank a potion, lay on some ritual magic array and slept; upon waking, he was a scarred sorcerer.
The biggest change was strange blue tattoos on his body; each spellcasting burst with blue light and shadow, easy to identify.
Scarred sorcerers differ from normal sorcerers: at level 1, only one first ring spell, no choice, but benefits are fast casting speed and strong power.
However, this class is imperfect; Gais often had nightmares, inexplicable whispers in his ears, his mind and body continuously assaulted by the “blue flame,” undergoing unknown magical mutation.
Anse tore open Gais’s clothes, seeing his chest covered in magic tattoos, other body parts with odd changes like blue fur, a patch of semi-transparent skin on the shoulder with visible veins.
“No way out now; every few days I need a bottle of blue potion called Pure Mana to suppress the mutation, one hundred gold coins a bottle…” Gais’s eyes reddened; this was his first time confiding in someone, though forced.
Anse had no sympathy; it was his choice: “What are you doing here?”
“Hunting a famous sorcerer.” Gais didn’t conceal.
Anse tensed: “Why? A cult daring to make enemies everywhere!”
“Not sure the details,” Gais shook his head. “I heard other priests say the main ingredient in the magic tattoo potion is sorcerer blood…”
Magic tattoos, as items harmonizing magic and art via ink and needle, infuse their bearer with strange powers.
Once etched on a creature’s body, damage cannot weaken the tattoo’s function, even if destroyed.
When a creature receives a tattoo, it can customize its appearance. A magic tattoo can look like a brand, a scar, a birthmark, a scale pattern, or any other facial decoration.
The rarer a magic tattoo, the more skin space it generally occupies on a creature.
