Chapter Fifty-Five: Into the Depths

To find the very essence of one’s soul and harness the purest force of the spirit to master and wield the arcane—that is the true nature of arcane magic. The Titan’s runic memories flickered within him as Patrick felt the arcane within his body grow ever more abundant, its power manifesting most clearly through the School of Conjuration. Teleportation was but a single facet of this school’s magic, yet even that spell already began to reshape the space around him with arcane energy. What, then, must true spatial magic be like?

When a spatial spell is guided entirely by soul or will, requiring no vast consumption of arcane energy to alter reality, but instead compels space itself to obey one’s intent—willing the immaterial into the material world—such is the highest form of power. The Titan’s creations appeared to be driven by arcane forces, yet the Titans themselves wielded many powers. Aman’Thul commanded time, fate, and space; Eonar represented life, nature, and renewal in the cosmos; Golganneth was lord of thunder and storms; Khaz’goroth, of earth, craft, and the forge; and Norgannon presided over arcane and knowledge. The Titans bestowed fragments of their power upon the Guardian Dragons, the five great protectors charged with safeguarding the world after the Titans’ departure. Only when the dragons were prepared to defend Azeroth did the Titans leave.

This reveals that arcane magic is but one of the Titans’ many powers. Arcane is a means to probe the truth of the world, to comprehend its essence. As an arcanist, Patrick had always trained his mind, using his will to construct models of spells, then employing arcane power to manifest those models in reality. Though he had succeeded, he relied on a metamagic technique—arcane mimicry. Now, Patrick had only begun to touch upon the true art of realizing thought into the physical world.

Runes continued to flow into his mind, recording the methods for observing space within the laboratory, notes on the twisted void outside Azeroth, and the ways to traverse, create, maintain, stabilize, and alter space using the arcane.

“Construct spell models, let the mind intrude upon reality. What the eye beholds is never the whole; to see the world as it truly is, you must observe through the inner eye of truth. Only then can you uncover the world’s ultimate law.”

Willpower is of utmost importance in guiding the arcane. When a spell is cast or prepared without the mind’s control, it is no different than a nuclear reactor losing its control rods. If a chain reaction runs wild, fissile material erupts in an uncontrolled fission, releasing colossal energy in a nuclear explosion. The best outcome of a spell cast without mental guidance is magical backlash—damage to mind and power; the worst knows no limit—there is always a worse fate.

This is why, in high-level magic and even divine arts, “control and stability” is always among the most vital prerequisites. Spells that consume life force or carry a terrible cost do exist, but who would use them except at the edge of life and death?

Another point fascinated Patrick: according to the platinum disc’s visual records, in ancient times, after the Titans descended upon Azeroth, they built many laboratories, created servants for their purposes, and then departed, setting the world’s systems to develop according to preordained commands. The records showed Azeroth then had only a single moon.

But when the Titans returned to Azeroth and found their laboratories deeply corrupted by the Old Gods, a fierce war ensued. The Pantheon barely overcame the infighting Old Gods’ legions. The chaotic elementals were banished to the Elemental Planes, and the Old Gods were sealed deep beneath the earth. Afterward, the Titans installed myriad constructs and guardians to monitor Azeroth’s functioning. At this time, Azeroth’s moon had become two—the Blue Child and the White Lady, as we now know them.

This was intriguing: could it be that Azeroth’s two moons were created by the Titans? Patrick recalled that, upon first entering the Spire of Sunlight, he had enlisted Allen’s help, using the theory of the School of Conjuration to project his mind through a spatial rift outward. Yet as he neared the Blue Child and White Lady, his spirit seemed to meet a defensive barrier.

Later, Allen explained in detail: both moons appeared to be shielded by defensive wards, impenetrable even to spiritual perception—much like the arcane web’s own defense system.

Patrick himself had discovered another fact: Allen, the Moon Saint, possessed a soul that formed its own sea of consciousness, vastly increasing his mana reserves. In essence, Patrick’s magical limit far surpassed that of ordinary folk. Thus, when he used his mind to sculpt spell models and invoked spells through arcane mimicry, he did so with perfect ease—or rather, with utter abandon.

If a mage’s mana reserves are ordinary, every spell cast must be weighed for its cost. Metamagic techniques are notoriously draining; complex combinations consume exponentially more energy. The immense demands force lesser mages to practice simple techniques in great volume just to hone their craft.

If every mage, like Patrick, used two or more metamagic techniques for every spell, their reserves would be exhausted in no time. However intimidating such spells might be, after casting three or four, what then when mana runs dry and the foe is yet before you?

Thus, increasing one’s magical capacity is imperative. One must not let the “blue” limit bind one’s mastery. A greater reserve would give Patrick a distinct edge in future battles and against his enemies.

...

The Spire of Sunlight, Library.

“Terestra, has Chief Patrick returned to the tower?”

“Chief has been back for several days,” Quelrintis replied. “But since his return, he seems to have thrown himself into some research.”

“Is that typical of the Chief?” Terestra asked in confusion.

Sensing her puzzlement, Quelrintis explained with a smile, “Yes. The Chief is passionately devoted to arcane research. Ever since he took up residence in the Sun Sanctuary, he has been ceaseless in his study and experimentation. He’s never once attended any of the rangers’ parties outside.”

Terestra looked utterly incredulous. “That’s not at all how arcanists in Silvermoon are known to live.”

Quelrintis shook his head. “Chief Patrick’s attitude toward arcane study is unlike any other elf. His professionalism and dedication are matched only by the masters of Silvermoon themselves. It’s precisely for this reason that I—and the other three mages of the Sun Sanctuary—hold Chief Patrick in such high esteem.”