In a short amount of time, Saul came up with several ways to increase his magic.

But none of them could be considered scalable.

The last time Saul gained a significant amount of Magic was in the Elven Valley, when he received the final gift of the half-elf.

That surge of pure magic had saved him years of effort in accumulating energy and allowed him to successfully advance to a True Wizard.

If he hadn’t become a True Wizard, he likely wouldn’t have survived the rebellion in the Wizard Tower.

But now, without a gift from the heavens, Saul could only rely on himself to find a way to increase his magic.

Purely relying on meditation was clearly not enough.

“Right now, the method I can think of to increase my magic is to collect various materials rich in magic, refine them, and then absorb the energy. But the problem with this method is that the refinement is never complete—impurities accumulate inside the body. Over time, I’d have to find a way to cleanse them, otherwise it would become a huge risk.”

“You could build a Magic Reservoir Pool,” Camus suddenly said.

Saul had never heard the name before. Though the words themselves were easy enough to understand, he knew that anything Camus specifically proposed wouldn’t be so simple.

“A Magic Reservoir Pool involves collecting highly magical materials, then going through four steps—catalyzing, refining, filtering, and collecting—to extract purer magic.”

At first glance, the method sounded pretty much the same as what Saul had already thought of.

But he didn’t say anything. He simply remained quiet, watching Camus.

“Every step in building a Magic Reservoir Pool is crucial, but the most critical is the third step—filtering. The filter you choose determines how much pollution is removed from the extracted magic. Some people call this pollution ‘distortion value.’”

Camus’s voice, like her mood, remained calm and steady—like she was reading from a manual.

“…The best filter material is a living wizard.”

“This kind of knowledge probably isn’t allowed to be shared, is it?”

Camus didn’t answer. She simply stared at Saul like a sculpture.

Saul leaned against the lab bench, slowly rotating the beaker in his hand.

“Go on, let’s hear it.”

Saul built a Magic Reservoir Pool at the top of the Wizard Tower.

The entire pool was constructed using the Wizard Tower’s own materials. The basin was cylindrical, two meters tall and one meter in diameter.

Outside the Magic Reservoir Pool, he built a canopy to block sunlight and installed a light-focusing apparatus. Depending on the materials being processed, it could simulate different environmental conditions.

Thanks to magic, the main construction of the Magic Reservoir Pool took less than half a month to complete.

Next came the preparation of various materials, catalysts, and… suitable filtering materials.

Once the main structure was complete, Saul left Herman behind to watch over the Wizard Tower while he took the others and went out.

At the moment, the Purity Wizard Tower had entered a stage of stable growth. Coupled with the magic-restricted Rhine Lake surrounding it, Saul could leave with peace of mind for a while.

This time, he was heading to a location provided by the Old Witch. She claimed to have seen quicksand termites there.

The queen of the quicksand termites secreted a substance known in the wizarding world as Obsidian Amber. It was a highly effective catalyst, and its applications were quite broad.

In the past, when Saul worked as the Second Storage Hall’s manager, he had even sold some of it.

After leaving the Wizard Tower, he didn’t bring along the quicksand termite queen, since it was fragile and had to live in a complex, environmentally regulated device.

And the device itself was too delicate—vulnerable to jolts and shocks—making it impossible to bring on the road.

Fortunately, he still had some Obsidian Amber left. But for a large-scale experimental setup like the Magic Reservoir Pool, that little bit was nowhere near enough.

He needed far more Obsidian Amber—and preferably a sustainable source.

So he planned to follow the Old Witch’s clue to locate a quicksand termite colony, then move the queen and all her offspring outside Rhine Lake.

Meanwhile, the Old Witch would prepare the termite nest outside the Wizard Tower in advance. When Saul returned, they could move the entire colony in immediately.

She had proposed this herself, on the condition that she received a share of the Obsidian Amber the queen produced.

Naturally, Saul had no objection. In fact, he was even thinking of stationing someone near the nest for safekeeping. If that person turned out to be the Old Witch herself, even better.

The place where she had once seen the quicksand termites wasn’t in the desert, but—strangely enough—in a forest near a settlement.

The forest wasn’t large, not even covering half a mountainside, but the vegetation inside was unnaturally lush and tall.

People walking through it felt as small as ants.

So, the locals had taken to calling it The Survivor’s Ancient Grove.

Most of the Borderland had little to no population. Some places were only home to powerful, solitary wizards or other strong beings.

Communities were extremely rare.

Before entering the Survivor’s Ancient Grove, Saul decided to check out the nearby settlement to gather information.

This settlement wasn’t large either, but was surrounded by tall stone walls.

The walls looked old. The bricks were weathered, and several of the enchanted runes engraved on them had already failed, now just hanging there for show.

To the north was a mountain; to the south was the Survivor’s Ancient Grove. The east and west sides had no barriers, just a road weathered by time, leading to the base of the wall before forking and skirting around it.

Sunlight poured down without mercy. Though it was already autumn, the heat still carried the force of midsummer.

Saul walked to the fork in the road.

The path to the settlement was overgrown with weeds, suggesting few people traveled it regularly.

As Saul debated whether to knock on the door or just fly in, a clatter of irregular metal rattling from a distance caught his attention.

Seven raggedly dressed commoners emerged from the Survivor’s Ancient Grove, walking in a line.

They all had shackles around their ankles.

Each of their left feet was chained to a shared iron fetter. Each of their right feet was chained to another.

All seven had black cloths covering their eyes.

The first in line held a lantern.

The lantern’s light was so faint it was nearly invisible under the harsh sun.

“A bunch of blindfolded people, all chained together, but one of them is still carrying a lantern?”

Saul stood still, watching them slowly emerge from the woods—bare feet pressing from grass to dirt—then walking past him.

Their trousers were rolled up to the knees, and their legs down to their toes were caked in mud.

When the last of them passed by, Saul began following behind.

The fork in the road was more than a hundred meters from a door-sized opening in the wall.

When the blindfolded leader neared the closed beechwood gate, the lantern in his hand suddenly sputtered and went out.

He stopped immediately.

The rest of the group halted in practiced unison.

Then, the gate silently opened a crack.

Inside was pitch black, as if sunlight couldn’t reach within the settlement.

A massive hand gripped the door and pushed it wider—just enough for one person to pass through.

The lantern’s light reignited.

The seven blindfolded people resumed walking, stepping with eerie precision—right foot first, then left.

Saul still brought up the rear, even matching his footsteps to theirs.

He slipped through the door.

Looking up, he saw a large, triangular-shaped head peeking around the edge of the gate.

Its two orange-yellow eyes were as big as tabletops. One hand gripped the side of the door; the other rested atop the doorframe.

It didn’t look at Saul. Its murky pupils followed the seven figures on the ground as they slowly walked inside.

Gulp.

Saul could’ve sworn he heard it swallow.

The monster behind the door could no longer resist. One hand let go of the gate and reached for the last person in line.

It grabbed the man’s upper body, trying to lift him up.

But just as its arm rose, the shackles binding the seven suddenly rattled loud and chaotic.

The man being grabbed was clearly terrified. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He just trembled, frantically shaking his legs to make the chains clink louder.

CRACK!

Suddenly, a long whip lashed out from the darkness and struck the monster hard on the head.

“Don’t touch my goods!”

A furious old voice shouted.

(End of Chapter)

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