Resuming my spell creation, I studied my internal space where my spell worlds resided. Each world floated independently, requiring my focus to take control individually each time I used it. The worlds don’t rotate unless I actively will them to, meaning starting a spell from scratch requires extra time. But if there’s a spell world, then what about a spell solar system?
With this thought in mind, I decided to make my fireball spell one of nuclear fusion, mimicking a regular sun or star. This version of the fireball would not only be powerful, energy-efficient, and somewhat self-sustaining, but it would also have a gravitational pull. This would prevent my target from escaping easily, even with spells like Assassin's Rush or Battle Charge.
I carefully formed the fiery core with precision as it flared to life, expanding into a massive sun. As it formed, I willed myself to control the gravity produced—how much is created and even the direction of the pull. It’s crucial that I can control this, or the spell could consume everything and everyone in its path.
The sun took shape, and I willed it to make the other worlds circle it. It worked. I could feel all my spells becoming active, allowing me to change spells much faster than before. When I played Fable on the PC in my past life, there was a hotkey function that allowed eight spells to be used in rapid succession. The game’s mechanics always seemed to correlate with things in this world. I suspect the main developer of the game had the same gift as Theresa, but with a version that worked on Earth and gave visions of other worlds.
Though the concept of a sun might be too complex for the people of Albion, it was surprisingly simple to implement using Will.
Next came the most complicated spell of all. Normally, the lightning spell consists of a barren world covered in clouds that generates lightning as it spins.
Instead, I made it a world of metallic copper-like coils, with a super-magnetic core, like rare-earth magnets. The inner core spins on a gyroscope, moving opposite to the outer shells, which spin due to the sun’s rotation. The wiring is immensely complex. This world will generate massive amounts of energy, but without a conversion method, the power would not convert to lightning much better than the original spell world version. The most important part is the world’s rings—just like Saturn’s rings, but made of metal. These rings will act like a Tesla coil, converting the energy into pure lightning. The frequency and measurements of these coils need to be precise, just like the world itself, creating a continuous loop of perfectly placed coils that look like rings.
Stolen novel; please report.
Lastly, there is the atmosphere that ionizes to form lightning easily. It’s not necessary, but it’s a nice touch. It increases efficiency even further and allows me to control the color by choosing which gas I want it to resemble. I chose Krypton because it would make the lightning appear normal. I didn’t want my lightning to appear unique, as it could draw unwanted attention from Jack's spies.
Teleportation, I found, is just an application of light magic, as I suspected. Turning oneself into light with a certain spell pattern and then back again automatically once the chosen destination is reached. Since I already have the pattern, I don’t need a new spell world for it. My light world works just fine.
Assassin’s Rush is simply boosting speed with Will energy, the intent being to move incredibly fast. The spell world for it was easy to create: just a comet circling the spell universe I’d created, with an image of myself moving fast. It didn’t require any modifications, so I didn’t make any.
Though my light world can mimic the effect of the Physical Shield spell, the standalone effect of it is still worth having. It doesn’t use light as much as pure Will energy, manifested to cancel out attacks. Will energy shares a lot of light’s properties on its own. That’s why the Will energy lost is equivalent to how much damage a health bar would normally take—a 1-to-1 ratio. So, instead of just using pure Will energy, I chose to manifest a flexible outer layer, like a cloth made of Kevlar and carbon fiber, and lined its interior with Will energy poised to turn into reactive force against any attack. This counterbalancing force would be much more energy-efficient, and with my spell universe set, it’s possible to maintain more spells simultaneously. Especially a self-maintaining one like my modified Physical Shield. The used Will energy would siphon from my Will Pool automatically to replace it.
Opening my eyes, I found everyone waiting for me. Elvira was napping, leaning on my shoulder, while Theresa and Briar Rose were making a painting of the scene.
"Having fun?" I squinted.
Theresa smiled back. "Of course. We all finished some time ago, and it felt like good family fun."
I looked over at the sleeping Elvira, lacking the heart to wake her. "So, how did it go?" I asked, changing the subject.
Maze closed a book. "We’ve all succeeded in our tasks. Everyone has the base Physical Shield spell and their unique ones, myself included. But even with all this, it won’t be enough to stop Jack."
"True, but there are two more legacies to acquire," I replied.
"Two?" Maze asked, confused.
"Nostro and Scythe are our ancestors," I explained. "Scythe can unlock our bloodline’s power and talent fully, and possesses knowledge lost to all others. What we have now is just a fraction of it. Nostro should be willing to pass his position on to another."
I glanced over at my now more muscular father. Nostro is one of the few heroes who ever wielded a shield, just like my dad.
Suddenly, Whisper shouted, "My gosh, your little sister’s even bluer than you!"
We all turned to look at a shirtless Naia, who, in her boredom, had started playing in the pond and washed away her makeup.
"And her nipples are missing!" she shouted in alarm.
Everyone lost it, laughing simultaneously—even the stoic Maze and Scarlett.