Chapter 51: The Costly "Appraisal"

The word "Hyóla" means "trumpet" in the Elvish tongue, and many spells related to messaging and communication use this term as their activation word.

At this moment, Joan was casting the zero-level spell “Message,” the most basic communication spell. It allowed the caster’s words to travel a hundred feet or so, and only those specifically designated by the caster could hear the whispered message.

The spell’s range was rather short, so it was most often used for secret exchanges indoors. For instance, during meetings, small groups in the audience could use this spell to create a private chat, freely gossiping even in front of the speaker on the podium without fear of being overheard.

Joan’s purpose in casting the spell now was to speak with Conti, who was separated from him by a single wall. At first glance, this seemed entirely unnecessary—surely shouting through the door would be easier than bothering with a spell? But Joan mainly wanted to test this newly learned magic for himself, and, though he was loath to admit it, there was another reason: he always felt inexplicably anxious and tense in face-to-face exchanges with others—especially with girls his own age like Conti. Communicating through letters or magical messaging gave him ample time to consider his wording and spared him the discomfort of a living, breathing audience, which helped him keep his composure and express himself more clearly.

“I’m going to Dr. Kelandir’s laboratory for a while, and I’ll be sleeping there tonight.” Joan pressed the vibrating copper wire between his fingers, thought for a moment, and added, “I’ll come back for breakfast together in the morning. Good night.”

The copper wire, thin as a tuning fork, resonated with Joan’s voice until he finished speaking. After a brief silence, it trembled again, and Conti’s gentle words sounded in Joan’s ear.

“Okay! In a bit, I’m going to visit Mr. Tyre, and then I’ll check on Mira and Gray in the woods before heading home to sleep. Be careful in the lab, try to rest early, see you tomorrow.”

Joan nodded, as if Conti were right in front of him. After waiting another minute and hearing no further message, he coiled the copper wire and slipped it into his pocket, shouldered his linen backpack, and left.

It was a little after eight in the evening. Under the dim, gloomy sky, the streets were nearly empty. Joan strode across town to the laboratory Dr. Kelandir had set up in the northeastern corner of the village. The standalone wooden house stood apart from the residential area, with the winding Derin River flowing just behind it. The risk of alchemical experiments was well known, and so the lab was located in this remote spot near the water, mainly for safety’s sake—should an explosion occur, the townsfolk would not be in danger.

Joan took out his key, unlocked the door, and stepped into the laboratory, lighting the candelabrum as he entered. The tidy workbench was arrayed with all manner of glassware, neat rows of test tubes and beakers glimmering like jewels in the candlelight. Yet when Joan took the large pearl that Nic the sprite had given him from his coat pocket and set it among these glass vessels, even their brilliance paled before the true gem.

He walked to the workbench and placed the pearl into a mortar, picking up the pestle with a hesitant look.

These days, apart from practicing zero-level spells such as Light, Mending, and Message, Joan had devoted much of his energy to studying his new first-level spells: Enchant Weapon, Magic Missile, Electric Claw, and, most importantly, Identify.

As the name implied, Identify was used to discern the properties of magical items. This spell was rather particular: it normally required a full minute to cast, but if performed as a ten-minute ritual, it offered two major benefits—no spell slot was consumed, and no prior preparation was necessary.

Joan, who had only three first-level spell slots, was keen to save them. Besides, Identify was hardly a combat spell; spending ten extra minutes on a ritual was no great hardship. The real challenge lay in the stringent material and ritual requirements: each casting demanded at least one pearl, which had to be crushed into powder, mixed with wine, stirred thoroughly with an owl’s feather, and then drunk.

A pearl...?

Yes, every use of Identify consumed at least one pearl, and more crucially, the quality of the pearl directly affected the clarity of the results. A poor pearl would yield vague information, or might even cause the spell to fail altogether. The spellbook recommended a pearl worth at least a hundred gold coins for reliable results.

Joan had in his possession three unidentified magical items taken from the lizardfolk shaman—so, in theory, he would need three ordinary pearls worth a hundred gold each, or... a single large pearl worth three hundred.

He toyed with the beautiful, lustrous pearl in his hand, hesitating. Three hundred gold was no small sum for someone in his financial straits. If the items he identified turned out to be worth less than the pearl he sacrificed, he’d have lost dearly.

His gaze shifted to the workbench, where two small pouches sewn from snakeskin and a belt inscribed with magical runes lay. These three items were the spoils he and Gray had taken from the lizardfolk shaman Chud in the swamp a week earlier. Joan could sense the magic within them, but had no idea what enchantments they held. In such cases, Identify was the best way to unravel the mystery—provided, of course, that the items were at least as valuable as the pearl.

“No use worrying about it now!”

In the end, curiosity triumphed. Joan dropped the pearl into the mortar and brought the pestle down hard.

Crack! The pearl shattered, and Joan felt a pang in his chest. Forcing down his regret, he ground the pearl until it was reduced to ashen powder.

He tipped the powder into a glass beaker, then added white wine, stirring gently with an owl’s feather until the liquid grew cloudy. Discarding the feather, Joan drained the beaker in a single gulp. The concoction burned like spicy mud going down, leaving his throat raw.

He set the glass down, wiped his mouth, and wasted no time savoring the taste of a three-hundred-gold cocktail. He immediately began the ritual for Identify.

Combining the lengthy incantation with the intricate gestures was a severe test of both mind and body. Fortunately, Joan’s endurance and concentration were up to the task, and after ten minutes of intense focus, the complex spell was complete.

Only now did the effects of the wine and pearl take hold. Joan felt a wave of dizziness, and the objects before him blurred and wavered. At the same time, strange visions flickered in his sight: some items faded into shadow, while others shone with radiant light—such as the two pouches and the belt lying on the workbench.