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LCoT Chapter 31
🕑 Added 2025-05-14 11:14:47 +0000 UTC—
Alone in what was his room, where Clara and the others had left him to study this world, Marcus pulled out the Serpent Leather Grimoire that, until days ago, had belonged to one large Goliath. The book was filled with pages that clearly did not belong. Pages were stitched together to add new spells. On the outside, it looked like a normal leather-bound book, but on the inside, it was a patchwork of many different pieces of different books. One could only wonder how many people he had killed to get his hands on so many spells, most of which were bloodline magics. Some of them had incomplete notes on how to alter the spells in their use.
Black Serpent Grimoire
Healing Breath
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Light affinity. This spell slowly heals a user’s body when they focus on their breathing.
Stone Skin
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with an Elemental affinity. This spell causes the earth to form a stone barrier around parts of the user’s body.
Wind Skin
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with an Elemental affinity. This spell conjures a wind barrier around parts of the user’s body.
Fireball
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with an Elemental affinity. This spell conjures and hurls a sphere of fire.
False Image
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Shadow and Psychic affinity. This spell erases the user’s presence from all normal sight for a limited time.
Psychic Whisper
This spell is a Tier III spell. It can only be used by those with a Psychic affinity. This spell sends a vivid, voice-like thought to a short distance to a target in sight.
Shadow Veil
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Shadow affinity. This spell envelops the user in darkness that slightly muffles sound and makes them nearly invisible in dim light.
Basic Arcane Shadow Step
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Shadow and Arcane affinity. This spell instantly transports the user between any two shadows within sight at small distances.
Shifting Shadow
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Shadow affinity. This spell grants a small amount of control over shadows, allowing the user to temporarily cover themselves in darkness.
Lesser Strength
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell grants the user twice their normal strength.
Bloodhound Nose
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell allows the user to track a target’s scent in places they have been after a short time.
Minor Blood Rush
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell floods the user’s body with aether, slightly boosting speed, reflexes, and strength to superhuman levels for a short time.
Cat’s Grace
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell lets the user leap from towering heights, move with acrobatic precision, and balance perfectly on impossibly narrow surfaces.
Razor Fingers
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell transforms the user’s fingers into hardened, blade-like claws.
Deafened Pain
This spell is a Tier II spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell temporarily severs the user’s pain, allowing them to keep fighting even with broken bones, burns, or bleeding wounds.
Night Watcher’s Gaze
This spell is a Tier I spell. It can only be used by those with a Bloodline affinity. This spell grants the user perfect vision in non-magical darkness.
Marcus counted sixteen spells, all of which he could study.
‘This. I can use this to get stronger. And with the book of enchantments, I can make sure to translate all the affinity runes and enchant all sorts of objects.’
Distractions.
After a while of pondering in the room filled with drawings and the study of this wonderful thing called magic, Marcus heard yelling from outside. It distracted him from the carefully constructed runic spell formation he had been studying to hold in his mind.
By this point, Marcus had been intrigued with the Stone Skin spell.
By gathering the corresponding arcane runes that related to both the Stone Skin and Wind Skin spells, he guessed he could create an Arcane Skin spell to create a barrier around him—something he would have tried if it weren’t for the interruption outside.
A group of over fifty angry Filthyings rushed into the street like roaches scattering out of dark places exposed to light. Most of them had run when Marcus cast his spell; those without the shadow affinity thought it an illusion. At least, they were somewhat right. But they all felt that after Thornan’s death, whoever could control Clara and her band would gain all the notoriety the streets of Srok had to offer.
Clara did not see them. Marcus did not see them. Gabe did not see them—he was in the Ashfields.
They came like a rolling tide, clogging up the streets of Srok and heading straight for the broken manor. They were not roaches but people—teenagers emerging from every corner of Srok and marching through the streets. Fifty of them, orphans, half-bloods—all of them—with one goal in mind: to reach the broken manor.
“Clara! Clara!”
“Where is he?” He raised his hands to his sides. “Just because Thornan is dead doesn’t mean you earned all of this.” The tall half-Goliath, half-Aasimar gestured to the compound.
For Clara, it had been a day since she had given Marcus the grimoire. She had been examining the walls, the floors, and the windows of the manor. She wanted to find someone to fix them. Maybe a stonemason would do the job. She raised her thumb, measuring the distance from where she stood to the wall. She nodded—she could make the broken manor into a suitable manor for a Noble house. All of this stopped when she heard her name.
At first, she was confused. Then she heard the fury behind the voice—anger, and a bit of desperation. She quickly left the room and marched outside, where she came to a stop in front of over fifty Filthyings, led by a tall half-Aasimar who definitely had some Goliath blood in him.
“What do you want, Gael?” These were the first words that left her mouth as she stared the other young man down.
“Everyone here knows someone like you shouldn’t have all this to themselves.” He gestured with a hand. “I’m the oldest. I should be in charge of your house.” He paced in front of her. “I’ve kept mine alive the longest,” he said, looking down at her.
Before Clara could reply, he scoffed and continued with a mocking smile.
“I know you’re not the one in charge.”
“Who is then?”
“Where is he?” Gael asked, a slow, cold smile that did not reach his eyes.
“Who?” she narrowed her eyes at him.
“You know who I’m talking about. That so-called Gloaming Prince?”
“I’m the one in charge here. Watch who you’re talking to,” she said.
“Please don’t pretend you are,” Gael began, only for the short young woman to raise her hand and stop him. She pinched her nose in frustration and breathed deeply.
Anyone who had been there knew—even they felt the power of the spell, the way the aether reacted to it. It was rare, but she felt it.
“There you are. Finally decided to show yourself.”
Clara turned as Marcus and Linus came rushing to a stop. By the look on Marcus’s face, he was ready for a fight.
“Marcus, take it easy on him. I have plans for them.” She turned to them.
"Was she expecting me to kill him?! "he asked himself. His nerves stirred. He remembered how he had felt. Thornan. He shook his head.
“Why don’t you save yourself the trouble and turn around.” He pointed to Clara. “Listen to her. Whatever she says is right.”
He waited for a response, but the other boy wasn’t in the mood to give him one. Marcus looked around at the other faces, but none were willing to take him up on his offer.
“You saw what happened to Thornan. So why do you want to fight me?” He asked, hand resting on the grimoire.
“Yeah?! So what? Illusions won’t scare me,” Gael said. “You.” He turned to one of the girls in his band. “Tell me when he casts that illusion.”
“If you fight me, I’ll offer you no quarter. So turn around and go back where you came from.” he said as his eyes locked onto Gael's.
“You must think we’re all fools. And they call you the Gloaming Prince? What a joke. Instead of talking—fight me.”
He didn’t want to hurt the older boy—at least, not badly. He just wanted to hurt him enough to make him back off, to make the other boys not want to pick a fight with him or Clara and the others.
He had a lot of aether, which he could use to sustain at most three Tier II spells at once. The problem was that he had just memorized a few spells from the Serpent Grimoire.
He looked at the older boy and activated Arcane Sight.
Gale
Affinity | Strength / Weight
Light – 3
Dark – 2
Elemental – 6
Arcane – 0
Psychic – 1
Shadow – 1
Bloodline – 3
He nodded. Then it happened.
One moment he was there, and the next, he was gone—in an instant. Just like Thornan. Just like a Veystrix who knew the spell.
His opponent, the older boy, did not wait. A whip of icy water materialized in his hand. Water formed the whip; ice formed the barbs and razor-sharp blades.
“Where are you?” He lashed the whip against the cobblestone where Marcus had last been seen.
“Hiding like a little rat.” He swung the whip again, this time aiming to catch something. hoping.
Marcus used [Minor Blood Rush], [Razor Fingers], and [Lesser Strength] all at once. When he reappeared and the [False Image] spell stopped working, he saw the whip coming at him. He did not dodge—he used his [Razor Fingers] to cut the whip, leaving his hand bloody.
Gael’s innate magic was stronger. It had to be of a higher Tier, because the ice-cold pain that shot through Marcus’s hardened, razor-bone fingers was unbearable.
Marcus reckoned that’s what caused him to do what he did next. He moved faster than he thought, dodged the blow aimed at his face, and grabbed the other boy’s hand just as he began to conjure another [Water Ice Whip].
Using [Lesser Strength], he crushed the other boy’s hand. His fingers dug into flesh, then bone, and just as the other boy was about to yell, a punch landed on the lower side of his jaw. He went limp to the ground like a rug—only bloody and unconscious.
Marcus looked behind him at Ivor, who stood next to Clara, both giving him acknowledging looks. Then he looked back at the over fifty Filthyings who stood stunned.
“Is there anyone else?” he asked.
The crowd of gathered Filthyings was just that—stunned. From the moment Marcus had shown himself, he had moved unnaturally fast. What felt like a minute to him had been only half that time to them. More shocking: none of the spells he used against Gael had been seen during the fight with Thornan a few days ago.
“Are there any more challengers?” Clara asked.
“No... we—we’ll just grab our friend and leave.”
“No. You can leave him where he is. I have plans for him—and all of you,” she pointed at Gael’s group. “Stay behind.”
The other Filthyings looked at each other. Most didn’t wait to be told twice. They moved out of the compound slowly, then ran once they were far enough.
“And you,” she turned to the only group that still stood in her compound, “what of you? What do you want?”
One of the girls nudged the boy who seemed like their leader to the front.
“We want to join your house. Whatever you’re trying to do,” the boy—Orlan, if she remembered his name—said.
“Why?”
“We know how strong your group is. We can help you. We stand a better chance with you than on our own.”
“Okay.”
“We can help you with scavenging—” He started, wanting to prove his point. He kept talking, only to stop as he realized what Clara had said. "Umm... okay," he blinked.
“Okay,” Clara nodded.
