At his current rank, his best offensive elements were Shadow and Darkness, their intangible depths weaving deadly precision into every strike. From a defensive standpoint, the Gluttony element offered many potent spells that could shield him with eerie resilience. For support, the subtle interplay of Shadow, Darkness, and Gluttony was unmatched, their combined effects weaving a delicate balance between offense and defense.
All that remained was movement and healing. The Space element stood alone as the supreme choice for swift, fluid movement, bending distance like a whispered secret. Gluttony, on the other hand, was his unrivaled ally in healing, drawing in vitality as if consuming the very essence of life itself.
'For attack,' he mused, 'the Shadow Clone spell, the Atal Halberd spell, and the Shadow Arrows spell would undoubtedly be the best choice.'
Each spell played a distinct role, clones to confuse and divide, the halberd to cleave through defenses, arrows to strike from the unseen corners of darkness.
'In terms of defense, the Pig's Mouth Armour is an excellent spell capable of swallowing the opponent's spells below the fourth rank and converting them into physical momentum for the caster.'
The image of a spectral Pig's mouth snapping shut on incoming magic was vivid in his mind. This boost gave extra power to his physical attacks, making it a perfect match for the Atal Halberd's sweeping strikes.
'For support, Ring of Shadow and Breath of Darkness are excellent spells,' he continued, 'while Hand of Hunger excels in healing.'
The Ring was a supportive field, a shadowy sanctuary. The Breath whispered strength into allies, and the Hand reached out, mending wounds by consuming pain.
'I can also use the Book of Gluttony spell,' he thought, 'but I must always have the necessary spells already prepared and store them in the Mind Palace.'
Preparation was everything. The Mind Palace was his sanctuary of strategy, a place where every spell and tactic waited patiently for recall.
'For movement, the Instant Jump spell is more than enough for transitions in close combat,' he reasoned. It was a blink of space, a leap between moments. 'In cases of escape, I might be forced to use the Zentosil Gate. It will have an adverse effect that may affect my soul, but some injuries are better than death.'
He paused, feeling the weight of that decision. The Zentosil Gate was a dangerous last resort, a tear in reality that demanded a price. But survival was paramount.
'I think I should start training against clones,' he decided. 'I can make two, but that would strain my Consciousness a little. First, let's make it a one-on-one match.'
His mind already spun with the possibilities, the strategies he would test and refine.
Grievous hummed softly as he opened his eyes in reality and stepped out of his Mind Palace. The transition back from his mental realm was always a jarring contrast, the vivid clarity of thought giving way to the mundane surroundings of his chamber.
He sat on the bed, voice low and steady.
"I must first prepare for reaching the late fourth rank before I can begin my training."
The words felt like a decree, a promise spoken to himself alone. He stood, his movements precise and purposeful, and quickly exited the room. The corridor was quiet, the servants going about their tasks with muted efficiency.
He summoned a servant with a curt nod.
"Bring a bathtub and spiritual water."
The servant bowed and hurried away, returning swiftly with the requested items.
The air filled with a faint scent of herbs and minerals as the water was poured into a large tub. Grievous led the way to a private chamber, where he carefully placed a generous array of magical fruits into the water. Their luminescent hues shimmered, crimson, violet, and emerald, infusing the liquid with vibrant energy.
He shed his clothes, the cool air brushing against his skin, and slowly descended into the bath.
The water embraced him, a soft, pulsing current of spiritual energy flowing through every fiber of his being. His eyes closed, and he focused on absorbing the essence, drawing it deep into his core.
Time seemed to dilate, stretching and contracting with each breath. The fruits dissolved their power into the water, and the water into him, a symphony of vitality and strength. His mind drifted to the battles ahead, the challenges that awaited once he ascended beyond his current limits.
After some time, his body tingled with renewed vigor. He pushed himself out of the bath with a sharp breath.
"Everything is ready now."
He dressed quickly, the fabric sliding smoothly over his skin, and ordered the servants to dispose of the water. They moved silently, clearing away any trace of the ritual. Grievous slipped back to his room, the quiet footsteps echoing softly behind him.
In his chamber, he settled into the chair by the window. The fading light of dusk painted the sky in shades of amber and violet. Outside, far from the estate the city of Eldoria hummed with life, the distant clatter of horse hooves and merchants' calls threading through the evening air.
He stared ahead, his gaze unfocused but determined.
'The push needed to jump to the fourth rank is there,' he thought. 'All that remains is to practice my abilities and prepare myself.'
His mind wandered to Edmund, the boy whose training he had pledged to oversee.
'Edmund's training begins soon,' he reflected. 'In ten years it will be done. I just need time, only time.'
The weight of years stretched before him like a mountain path, challenging but conquerable.
He clenched his fists, feeling the quiet flame of resolve grow warmer.
Time was a luxury he must wield wisely.
The night deepened, wrapping the world in shadows that felt less like darkness and more like a cloak of potential. Grievous exhaled slowly.
Tomorrow, the real work would begin.
Quietly, Grievous issued a wide-ranging order throughout the entire palace. His voice was barely a whisper as he commanded that no one disturb him under any circumstances. The usual bustle of servants and guards faded into stillness, replaced by an unnatural calm that settled over the grand halls like a heavy velvet curtain.
He moved with deliberate care towards the balcony, each step measured and silent. The cold marble underfoot was smooth, but he hardly noticed. His mind was already elsewhere, consumed by the tasks that awaited him. Reaching the balcony door, Grievous closed it softly, then turned to shut the nearby window. The night air was thick with the scent of jasmine and distant rain, but he sealed it all away.
Next, he reached for the magical illuminating stone that hung from the wall. Its soft glow bathed the room in warm light, but now, Grievous closed it with a practiced hand. The sudden plunge into darkness felt like stepping into another world. Shrouded in shadow, he moved to the bed and lay down, pulling the covers lightly over himself. His eyes closed, but his mind was wide awake.
Grievous sank deep into the Mind Palace, a place of endless space and echoing silence. The infinite expanse stretched around him, a vast emptiness filled with potential. He sighed quietly, a sound heavy with anticipation and doubt.
In an instant, a portion of his supply of Shen was drawn from the depths of his being. It flowed like liquid night, pooling before him and coalescing into a figure. His clone appeared, standing firm on a floor that seemed woven from shifting shadows and strange light. The surface beneath was alien, twisting and undulating as if alive.
Without hesitation, Grievous launched his attack. Shadow Arrows streaked from his fingers, dark and swift, aimed directly at the clone. At the same time, a ring of complete shadow erupted around him, encircling his figure with an impenetrable aura. A faint, dark mist hovered just beyond the ring, pulsating with quiet energy.
Grievous felt a subtle pull as 3% of the clone's spiritual energy was siphoned away. A semi-transparent layer of pink shimmered faintly on the clone's form, like a fragile shield. The Shadow Arrows vanished upon impact, absorbed or deflected by this mysterious veil.
The clone's physical strength surged. Grievous sensed it immediately. In response, the clone released a spell. A giant halberd, black as the void itself, materialized in its hands. It moved with deadly purpose, lunging at Grievous with a force that shattered silence.
Grievous did not falter. From his side, he drew an identical halberd, its blade gleaming with dark energy. The two weapons clashed, locking together in a violent embrace. At the same moment, Grievous unleashed four Shadow Arrow spells, sending them hurtling through the air.
The sound of metal meeting metal echoed faintly in the Mind Palace's vastness. Each strike against the clone's armor sent ripples through the spiritual fabric. Grievous could feel the clone growing stronger with every blow, its power rising like a tide. Yet, simultaneously, a small amount of Shen was drained from the clone.
The battle raged with relentless intensity until, suddenly, Grievous canceled the clone. He collapsed onto the ground, exhaustion clawing at his limbs. He breathed out heavily.
"This won't work," he muttered.
He paused, his gaze distant and thoughtful.
"Maybe I should have the Mind Palace create a better simulated battle than this to test things out for myself."
He sat up slowly as his surroundings shifted. The shadowy floor gave way to a vast platform of polished marble, gleaming under an unseen light. The space was boundless, stretching endlessly in all directions.
Before him appeared Kaede.
She was young once more, in the prime of her youth, radiating the raw potential of advanced third rank magical power. Her expression was calm, yet unreadable, like a statue carved from light and shadow.
The simulation was powered by the subconscious part of Grievous's consciousness. It obeyed his will perfectly, responding to his slightest mental command. He felt no resistance in controlling it.
Grievous studied the lifeless image of Kaede. Her form was still, but he could sense the latent energy coursing beneath the surface. He sighed softly, a mixture of nostalgia and resolve.
"This will be good."
With a thought, the simulation sprang to life.
Kaede moved first, casting a spell at a moderate speed. Four shields of fire appeared, swirling around her in a quiet, mesmerizing dance. The flames were contained yet fierce, their heat palpable even in the simulated space.
Almost simultaneously, she cast another spell. Whips of liquid magma formed in her hands, writhing and flickering with molten energy. The fiery tendrils seemed alive, eager to lash out at a moment's notice.
Grievous did not remain idle. He fired three spells of his own: Shadow Ring, Atal Halberd, and Shadow Arrows. The coordination was precise, born from countless hours of practice.
'It's a bit similar to the memories,' he thought. 'She started with two spells, the Flying Fire Shield and Fifna's whips.'
Both were third rank spells, smooth and effortless in execution. They were highly effective, a reminder of Kaede's training and innate talent.
The fire shields offered robust defense, while the magma whips provided a deadly offensive edge.
The Shadow Arrows shot towards Kaede at high speed. She reacted instantly, blocking the assault with her molten whips, the clash sending sparks flying.
Grievous seized the moment and cast Shadow Clone and Pig's Mouth Armour spells. Four groups of shadow arrows formed rapidly and launched themselves at Kaede, each arrow a streak of darkness against the fiery backdrop.
At great speed, Grievous used a quick jump spell, materializing right in front of Kaede. He struck with the Atal Halberd, aiming to overwhelm her defenses.
Kaede countered fiercely, repelling the halberd with her whip. The force was powerful enough to stagger him momentarily. Meanwhile, the fire shield absorbed the barrage of arrows. Out of four, three were destroyed by the impact.
Without missing a beat, the clone executed a quick jump spell and appeared behind Kaede, ready to strike from an unexpected angle.
Grievous's eyes narrowed.
The battle inside the Mind Palace was just beginning.