Chapter Two: The Study of Fireball and Ice Arrow Magic
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Ethan slept soundly, and by the time he awoke the next morning, the red moon had vanished.
Even the gods had been moved by his good deeds.
He pulled a sheepskin book from beneath his pillow. Written across its cover were the words *The Magic of Fireballs and Ice Arrows*, his compulsory daily study.
Read, practice, comprehend.
The sheepskin book recorded only the simplest elemental spells. Its advantage was that even a layman like him, who had never been exposed to elemental magic, could understand it.
Today, he could finally advance to the next stage of his training.
When he had first arrived in this world, Ethan had harbored grand ambitions. He had fantasized about reaching the pinnacle of life like the protagonists in transmigration novels, only for reality to deal him another crushing blow.
He discovered that his magical talent was far from ideal.
It had taken him an entire week from beginning *The Magic of Fireballs and Ice Arrows* to condensing his first flame, and a full two years to raise his proficiency to its maximum. The only good news was that he was still young. At his current pace, he would only be in his early thirties by the time he fully mastered the entire book.
An ordinary elemental mage, possessing just enough power to protect himself—that was Ethan’s vision for the future. He called it his First Ten-Year Plan.
There was nothing wrong with being ordinary.
Ethan turned the sheepskin book to the page following the fireball spell, leaned against the bed, and began reading with great interest.
The book mentioned that the searing nature of the fire element was highly effective against dark creatures. Yet in a world where the legal system was incomplete, followers of evil gods ran rampant, and great nobles could casually determine the fates of the lower classes, dealing with other people was unavoidable. The author of the book noted that the ice element was particularly suited to resolving disputes between people.
Ethan’s goal was to become a flawless hexagonal warrior. Even a miniature hexagon was still a hexagon.
*Ice Arrow: From Beginner to Master.*
The author was the renowned Mr. Anonymous. In the book, he proposed a fascinating theory: the resonance between magic power and the elements originated in “emotion.” The more vivid and intense an emotion, the easier it was to resonate with the elements.
Compared with himself two years ago, Ethan could already be considered an experienced practitioner. Through his constant practice of fireball magic, he had vaguely begun to grasp the essence of emotion.
The author believed that the essence of the fire element corresponded to glory, and that it favored ambitious people.
This was not easy for Ethan. He found it difficult to immediately recall any glorious moments in his life. When he racked his brains and traced his memories all the way back to middle school, he finally remembered the time he had ranked among the top five in his grade on an exam.
The fire element rejected him without mercy.
The ice element, on the other hand, was diametrically opposed to fire. The author believed that its essence corresponded to suffering and the depths of despair.
Ethan felt that this was probably why one could only practice a single spell at a time. The elements themselves possessed emotions and consciousness; practicing several spells simultaneously would cause them to label you a heartless philanderer, making it impossible to have the best of both worlds.
He closed his eyes and felt the magic flowing through his body.
Now, he needed to recall the coldest moment of his life.
Compared with his practice of fireball magic, memories immediately surfaced before his eyes.
Was it the time he had accidentally fallen into the river while playing by its banks as a child? Or the time someone had shoved him into a snowdrift while he was clearing snow on duty?
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No. Neither of those.
Ethan almost instantly sifted through the memories and found the coldest moment of all.
It had been at the tail end of summer. At a friend’s fervent recommendation, he had invested every penny he had painstakingly saved over several years of work into the stock market.
“Life gives you only one chance to place your bet.”
He could almost still hear that devilish whisper. He had dreamed that financial freedom was only one step away, and that from then on he would never again have to read his supervisor’s mood.
Ethan imagined himself wandering aimlessly through a crowded city street. Though the temperature was well above twenty degrees Celsius, the cold made him tremble and filled him with the urge to climb to the tallest building in the city and plunge into the evening wind.
When he opened his eyes again, he exhaled a long breath of hot air.
A thin layer of frost spread from the bed all the way to the window, blooming into a sheet of ice flowers across the glass. Cold air gathered into a sphere above his palm, which he held before his chest.
At that moment, his emotions resonated with the ice element.
“It’s all in the past. Things will get better.”
The ice element seemed to be comforting him. If it had hands, it would probably have patted him on the shoulder.
A new skill had appeared conspicuously in his skill bar.
“Ice Arrow (Beginner): Proficiency: 1/45”
Ethan stared for a long while at the ice element spiraling above his palm. He felt that he ought to be happy.
After all, he had learned Ice Arrow after only a single meditation session, established a close spiritual link with the ice element, and even received its consolation.
Yet he could not smile at all.
Could someone as wretched as him actually be a natural ice mage?
It was clearly a joyous occasion, but that voice, so full of human concern, seemed to have driven another blade into his long-sealed heart.
“Knock, knock, knock—knock, knock, knock—”
The knocking at the door broke Ethan’s train of thought. He hurriedly dispersed the ice element in his palm, returned *The Magic of Fireballs and Ice Arrows* beneath his pillow, wiped away the frost on the bed, and straightened his clothes.
The person outside announced herself.
“Ethan, this is Ivy, the sheriff. I’d like to discuss the werewolf case with you.”
“Coming!”
Ethan answered, put on his shoes, and walked toward the door.
A slender figure in a black trench coat stood waiting outside. Beneath a golden monocle were a pair of brown eyes. Compared with a sheriff, Ivy looked more like a private detective.
In Ethan’s mind, a sheriff ought to wear light armor, possess a powerful physique, and never be without a sword—someone who could inspire an overwhelming sense of security with a single glance. Not someone like Ivy, who strode about in thigh-high boots with absurdly high heels, clearly unsuited for combat.
When he saw the revolver at her waist, he could only sigh that the times had changed.
Yet what left the deepest impression on Ethan about the small-town sheriff was the top of her head. There was a small tuft of lively golden hair there, and he always felt that it might possess an independent personality and consciousness.
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Just like now. Ivy’s face was as expressionless as ever, but the golden tuft atop her head was swaying as it greeted him.
Ivy worshiped the God of Truth. He had heard that she was an outstanding graduate of the Academy of Enlightenment, as well as the only registered second-tier Supernatural in the town.
The God of Truth had granted her an abundant curiosity and keen powers of observation, allowing her to see through the essence of things more easily—and their weaknesses.
Ivy keenly observed Ethan’s current state of mind and said, “I’m sorry. Perhaps I’ve come at a bad time, but this concerns the safety of the town. I’d like to ask you to clear up a few things for me.”
Ethan hurriedly composed himself. “Did something happen to the hunters?”
“They’re all safe. In fact, they completed the hunt splendidly. It’s just that they brought this back with them.”
Ethan secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Ivy then took an object from an inner pocket of her clothing.
It was an exquisite leather collar with a rope attached. In front of Ethan, she undid the collar and revealed the strange runes inscribed on its inner surface.
Ethan immediately grew wary. “Those look like the script used by followers of evil gods.”
“That is precisely what worries me.”
“Please, come in.”
After Ivy entered, Ethan immediately locked the door, shut the windows, and drew the curtains. Ivy sat solemnly at the table, turning the leather collar over thoughtfully in her hands. Only after the room had fallen completely silent did she explain, “The hunters found it on the remains of the werewolf.”
She continued, “I originally intended to store it in the evidence room, but… how should I put this? It may sound rather indecent, but I actually… wanted to put it around my neck.”
Ivy held the leather collar in her hand and examined it with absorbed interest. Ethan, meanwhile, was completely captivated by the tuft of golden hair atop her head.
The tuft split into two “hands,” which covered its “eyes,” while it struck a pose of utter despair.
This child was becoming increasingly impossible to look at.
Ethan felt that the tuft of golden hair was expressing precisely that sentiment.
“Ethan?”
Ivy’s call broke his train of thought.
“You possess the deepest knowledge of the occult in the entire town, so I’d like to know your opinion. Is it possible for a werewolf to be domesticated by human means?”
(I apologize for keeping everyone waiting. The opening of this book did not go smoothly. I revised many versions, scrapped numerous original settings and plot developments, and at one point became rather lost in my own writing. Fortunately, I managed to get back on track. The new-book period is extremely important, so I hope all my dear readers will support the book by continuing to follow it. I hope to present you with a story you will all enjoy!)
(During the new-book period, there will generally be two updates a day. Except for today, two chapters will be posted every day at midnight. Because updating too quickly is not advisable during the recommendation period for a new book, the accumulated bonus chapters will be released during the month when the book goes on sale!)
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