Asheva: A Summoner’s Tale – [Book-2 Complete]

Chapter-87 Enthrall



“Is it safe there?” Nana asked.

“As safe as it could be,” Ewan said. “I didn’t get hurt, don’t worry.”

“Like you’ll tell me even if you did,” she said.

“Hello, do you sell spells?” A customer walked in and asked, his spirit blob about the same size as Ewan’s.

“Not now, we’re closed,” Nana said and sent him away.

“You were listed…” And he grumbled his way out.

“You’ll lose your business if you keep doing that,” Ewan said, floating to the automated worker and checking it out. “Do you have enough Novas? Let’s buy better workers if you do.”

“I do.” She hovered closer to him. “We can leave messages then!” she said, bouncing on the counter.

“Not by selling uncle’s materials. Do you have enough of your own?” Ewan asked.

“I-I should have,” she said, still hopping. “By the way, I have something for you.” She dove behind the counter and brought him a bean-sized argent core, the Nine-Tailed Fox’s core that fell into the space crack with him.

“It was with you?” Ewan asked, examining it.

“I found it beside me when I woke up, thought you could use it,” she said, bouncing into rapid bobs.

“Why’re you so fidgety?” he asked. “Did you eat something weird?”

“I-I might’ve. The berries on the beach smelled good.”

Ewan frowned. She had food packed in her pendant; she didn’t need those berries. And more so, she must’ve checked them with her <Identify> before eating them.

“Nana,” Ewan said. “Did you lose your pendant?” It shouldn’t be the case since she could connect to the hub with her connector, but he still asked.

“No, why?”

“Then is your soul hurt?” The berries agitated her spirit, she must’ve taken them to connect to the hub.

“N-No,” she said and backed off.

Ewan snapped. “Why’d you connect if your soul was hurt!” he yelled, and Nana flinched.

“Y-you said sunrise….” Her voice dimmed.

Ewan took deep a breath and tried to calm down, and the bubbling heat cooled down to a simmer.

“D-Did you get my message? That nineteen times was hinting at my age,” Nana said.

“Don’t change the subject,” Ewan said. “I’ll go buy the worker, make sure this orb can receive it. And go rest after that, don’t connect again until you’re healed.” He barged off; the door slammed behind him, and the title board dangled loose.

…….

The ice block floated on the open waters for a week, Ewan’s adjusted life continued through the sunrises and the sunsets, through the storms and through the quiet. The instability was a bane for brewing potions, so his Astylinds remained stuck at their levels. Frost too couldn’t train much for he was responsible for the durability of the ice block; whenever it melted, he refroze it.

The threat loomed on all sides, yet Ewan’s days remained peaceful; as peaceful as they could get in the middle of the ocean, with nature testing his mettle every now and then. He studied the mystic spells in his Spellbook, nurtured <Bloodlust>, observed and detailed down the cores for <Transmute>, practiced Ryvia and Sindra, and started a diary named ‘Ewan’s Adventures Log’—the first part of which was his story up till here.  

Enthrall!

He traced the familiar spell circuit that he practiced for the last week, but the spell ended without any effect. It not only lacked a target but also the Mystic-Anima as its fuel. Ewan traced it again, chomping a mouthful of dried meat jerky, letting the Mystic Anima seep in, drop by drop. Slow and steady, he controlled the floodgate. Still, even that tiny amount clashed against his other Anima and rampaged inside him. His ‘Mystic-Favored’ and his other runes helped him manage them and suppress the fight, but the havoc left him groaning in agony. The jerky helped as a distraction, so he bit once again and chewed through the pain. Until he brewed the mystic potion and modified his heart again for the ‘Elementalist’, he had to tolerate this.

Enthrall!

He retraced it, and the circuit crumbled after he let go. It was a ‘suggestion’ type spell, basic and standard, unfit for combat. Both its min and max Anima points were humbler compared to the other spells he focused on, but it could do the job otherwise.

If only….

If only he had the mystic rune, his new affinity wouldn’t go to waste. His mind wandered as he played with Mystic-Anima around him; the first glare of dawn brightened his dome, and the silver specks glimmered in the sunlight.
The rune would instead make it stronger; he would surpass even Frost in terms of affinity and might reach the third level—[Endued]. More control, more power, less cost, increased efficiency overall—this was what the higher affinity levels promised.

He was at the seventh awakening, inching towards the next breakthrough. Soon he would stand at the peak of this step and would attempt to advance to the next—Spirit Nebula. And the bubbling soul essence would let him contract another Astylind. If he could find or buy a mystic type, it would solve his problem and his gift would shine.

Frost, Orange, and Toast, all three cried and pulled him out of his thoughts, they found something. Ewan exited the dome he stayed in, gulping the last bite of the meat, and looked at the sun’s arc rising from the horizon. A dark spot blemished the flawless sight today. From nail-tip size to a pea, the blot ballooned.

Ewan squinted and let his eyes adjust to the dazzle. It was too far away to identify but its blurry outline reminded him of something—a manmade carriage that ran on water.

Ship.


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