Toz and the cats, especially Nil, wanted more time to learn their new spells and improve their magic. But it didn't seem like they would get that as the atmosphere in the camp was growing increasingly volatile. And from what Toz heard, the situation outside the base, on the battlefield, was the same.
People were desperate. They didn't want to die. But to increase their chances of survival, they had to risk their lives and get contribution points. No matter what, it seemed like incredible numbers of people were going to die in the upcoming clash. And this fear continued growing.
The atmosphere would eventually reach a bursting point. Even now, the only thing keeping people calm was the threat of slave collars. But since people who acted out did get enslaved, it was more of a promise than a threat. Not that there were many who tried to do something they shouldn't. Practically everyone knew that the only way to leave the battlefield was to die or come close enough that no one with a conscience could send you back to the battlefield.
Unlike the camp, which was like a powder keg just waiting to be lit, the state of the battlefield fluctuated violently. There would sometimes be action and combat more explosive than a volcanic eruption, only for a deceptive tranquility to lower itself over the entire battlefield only moments later.
Traversing that kind of battlefield added more stress and risk than usual. But people who were desperate for contribution points still braved the battlefield in the hopes that it would increase their odds of survival later on.
Since many combatants died doing that, Toz almost expected the army to limit who could leave, but if anything, it seemed like they supported those actions. Toz didn't know what to think of it, but he almost wondered if it was one of the general's machinations.
However, Toz couldn't understand why the general would plan for, or even allow, the combatants to hand over their lives to the Tribe of Death, who literally used the corpses of their enemies to battle.
Toz had seen how sharp the general's gaze was during their meeting, and the general undoubtedly knew about what was happening. And there had to be a reason why he didn't stop it. But Toz barely even knew the general's name, much less what tricks he had up his sleeves.
And his investigations were giving him less and less information due to the rapidly intensifying state of the camp. Trying to find information about the general, who controlled everything in the camp, like a puppeteer with his dolls, would be next to impossible.
So instead of wasting more time trying to find out what was going on and when things were finally happening, Toz dedicated himself wholeheartedly to studying the grimoire he got from Hassandra. It would be tight, but if he tried hard enough, maybe he would learn the spell before the fighting broke out or the general called for him.
It would be close, but Toz didn't put all his eggs into that one basket.
Toz had kept the creased blanket method active at all times since he created and learned it. If he was lucky and the general's plan dragged out long enough, Toz might be able to both break through to the seventh level and learn the spell that would push his offensive might to another plateau.
Thankfully, Scrael didn't mind giving Toz the grimoire to let him use it all the time. She would have been more reluctant if she had thought she would be able to use it before things went down. But even if she was close to learning it, she didn't delude herself into thinking there actually was enough time for her to learn it.
So Scrael began practicing the state where the world slowed to a near stop in her eyes. If she could control it flawlessly, it would be a lot easier for her to fight and survive on the battlefield. If things really became as chaotic as they feared they might, having a trump card like it up her sleeves could save her life. It could also save one of her companions if it came to it.
Mindle delved into her own understanding of fire. The tidbits of inspiration she had gotten from the sea of grimoires melted into her mind and body and became part of her strength. The new pieces of understanding and knowledge of fire sublimated into her already existing understanding and created ripples that spread through her body and filled her with fire.
Although she hadn't read any of the grimoires, it felt like the essence of the fire within them spoke to her and told her how to use really fire and bring out its true potential. It was the first time Mindle experienced anything like it, but it came so naturally that she didn't even notice it.
Mindle used that newfound ability and deepened understanding to improve her magic and change it to suit her. And the only thing that she could really call her magic was her Tongues of Flame.
Nil buried himself in the grimoire he had found in the back room of Dexter's Den. Although it was more than unlikely for him to learn the spell itself in the time they had left before it was time for the execution of the general's plan, he could still deepen his understanding of metal with it. And that deepened understanding would help him improve his magic. It might be marginal at first. But each improvement he made led to another ounce of power that could either kill an enemy or save a companion.
Asilean had felt a little left behind at first since he didn't find any grimoires that suited him in Dexter's Den. He didn't even find any useless ones that could give him inspiration and help him deepen his understanding of magic.
However, he quickly realized that he didn't need any fancy grimoire or some fleeting source of inspiration. He should just stick to what he already knew and improve it as far as he could. His spatial shift and spatial tear supported by void magic were all he needed. Those two magics covered his offensive and evasive abilities to the point that he didn't need anything else.
If he could move around freely, Asilean didn't have to worry about being hit or his enemies escaping his reach. And if he perfected his spatial tear and void nullification combination, no defense would be able to stop his attack. At least, that was what Asilean used to motivate himself.
Although Toz and the cats all worked on their own things and trained separately, they were still in the same tent and could feel the others burning with motivation. Their bonds strengthened, and their blazing spirits of motivation resonated with each other, which made them all work even harder.
However, it didn't seem like things would be going in their favor. It was possible that they had used up their luck in getting the grimoire from Hassandra and Garden.
Although most of them had made at least some kind of progress, none of them had made any real progress.
And they were out of time.
The general's subordinate, Merr, had sent a message.
