Chapter 33

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Chapter 33: Magic

"Is that it?" Captain Halite asked in confusion.

Tasha’s contract was genuine, signed by both parties correctly. The captain didn’t see any point in deceiving at this obvious stage. But the contract, which should have self-combusted after completion, showed no reaction, with no indication of the contract being fulfilled in his mind.

"What’s going on?" Tasha passed the ball to the natives of the abyss.

"He’s already a captain, yet he doesn’t even have the rank of a soldier?" Victor said in disbelief. "It doesn’t make sense, getting a title out of nowhere and riding on the military achievements of noble ancestors at least has some bloodline connection…"

"The rank of a soldier?"

"He’s just a commoner!"

"But he is a soldier," Tasha objected.

"A ‘soldier’ is just like a blacksmith or a tailor, it’s just a commoner profession," Victor said.

Unfortunately, common knowledge in this world couldn’t be installed like a language with the click of a button after making a pact, Tasha thought with a frown. This aspect was really bad; she always needed to discover what was happening before retroactively going to ask about it.

Thankfully, the communication speed with Victor in her mind was very fast; otherwise, having the captain waiting on the side would surely disrupt the mysterious and powerful aura that had been built up previously.

When Victor mentioned "professional soldier," the profession he referred to was not about a means of making a living.

Distinguishing between a "commoner" and a "professional adventurer" wasn’t about choosing their livelihood, but about "extraordinary powers." Even the lowest-level Professional made significant progress akin to a complete transformation compared to regular people. Entry-level professions like thieves also needed years of training and combat experience; the people in this world were not like heroes born at Level 1 in the newbie village, becoming a hero itself required qualifications. They were more like NPCs with long growth trajectories—although the growth rate of human Professionals had surpassed that of most other races by far.

The problem returned to before.

The captain’s hands had calluses from years of using weapons, his eyes sharp, his movements quick, his judgements in battle timely and wise, making him seem like a well-trained and experienced warrior. Why wasn’t he considered a warrior, not qualified for signing contracts? It made one wonder, those soldiers who had no resistance to corpse poison before, were they not considered professional warriors either?

"Degenerated to this extent because of a comfortable environment, huh," Victor sneered.

"Because you haven’t killed monsters or the Celestial Clan?" Tasha asked.

Victor paused for a few seconds, then said, "I never expected you to have such a connection with the clan of killers."

It’s not that Tasha had any strange admiration for killing, people on Earth exposed to video games had some preconceived notions: players kill monsters to earn experience points → experience points increase to level up → strength increases and skills become more proficient. Looking at it this way, the key to getting stronger was not so much about training or fighting, but about killing monsters.

Aryan seemed to have no more "monsters" left.

Now wasn’t the time to ponder these questions. Tasha set aside this tangled mess and continued, "So how can I make a contract with him?"

"You pay with magic," Victor said, flipping through the pages of a book, "It’ll cost about this much."

The basis of a demonic pact is that both parties have some sort of extraordinary power, like magic, bloodline, or rank. It’s like a ticket and qualification. If one party lacks qualification, the other party has to make up for it. It’s like how a notary agreement requires both parties to pay a deposit or fee, if Tasha’s chosen party can’t pay, she has to pay a lot of money herself.

It’s a really, really big sum. If Tasha can pay, she might as well keep fighting.

"Why is it so much?" Tasha gasped, "I just wanted to make a deal with a regular human!"

"I told you before, the world is so bad now, like a zero magic zone. You need to pay all the energy needed to make a connection by yourself!" Victor said, "And in the past, making a deal with a regular human required a huge cost. It’s a protection measure from the Primary Material Plane against higher beings, darn trade barriers. If not for this, demons would have taken over the world by making deals with weak-willed individuals. You have no idea how many weak people there are and how much they can do!"

True, if it were as easy as trading your soul for power just out of resentment, it would be too easy. Humans are social creatures, if all the heroes were bought by the abyss, in a world where everyone is an enemy, no one could fight. Tasha sighed and crossed out her plan to unite the world for a better future.

"Is there…a problem?" the captain said cautiously.

"It seems the captain lacks sincerity," the ghost said flatly.

"I just signed my full name on a demonic pact to sell my soul," Halite gritted his teeth, "I know darn well what consequences there will be, the teachers at the military school and the me from before would be happy to hang me in front of the school because of this, and you’re talking about lack of sincerity…"

"You’re holding back," the ghost said softly, "Let me think, is it because of your wife and son? Do they live up north? Oh, that’s a nice place."

The captain looked very pale, his voice stopped abruptly, as if someone was choking him.

"Relax, let’s turn this page together."

The faceless ghost chuckled lowly as it waved its hand, taking back the ineffective contract. Another green contract appeared in front of the captain, much looser than the previous one, not requiring a soul, but covering all the remaining soldiers under the captain’s command. Beads of sweat appeared on Halite’s forehead, he blinked his eyes and stared at the sinister contract.

"I am not qualified to make decisions for those people," the captain said tensely, "Perhaps you misunderstand, I am just their superior, I do not own them."

"But they respect you, trust you, and are willing to be loyal to you, right?" the ghost gently coaxed, "You deserve their trust too, because you are the only one who can keep these soldiers alive under your command. Besides you, who else cares about them, who cares about you? If you promise to watch over them and prevent any foolish acts of betrayal, I will provide refuge for you all. For these soldiers, isn’t working for someone a job in itself? I can swear not to make you fight against your former comrades – of course, if they come after you, then that’s a different story, I need to defend myself, right? – I can also assure you…"

The gray ghost floated forward slowly, its looming figure in front filled with pressure and persuasiveness. It had no face, no eyes, yet Halite felt himself being enchanted in its gaze.

The ghost said, "I promise you, I will not harm your wife and children unless they oppose me. If they come within my reach, I can reunite you."

The captain let out a quick breath, half a minute later, he grabbed the pen again.

This time, the group contract took effect.

Tasha secretly breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that the contract offered by Oak Elder did not have any demonic restrictions, even though it needed to be signed by the "chief". It seemed that this captain was truly beloved, as his troops were allowed to be recognized as a collective group under the contract – she had previously only judged from details such as the captain rallying his army before fleeing. If her judgment was incorrect, the contract would not be signed, which would be embarrassing.

Victor happily applauded her "demonic deeds", making Tasha secretly think that the demons in this world were similar to pyramid scheme scammers.

The key points were nothing more than gathering information, bluffing, and using vague language to let people fill in the gaps themselves. When Tasha was hidden next to the captain, she saw him open a pocket watch and gaze at a picture of him and a woman holding a little boy. They were currently in the southern area of Arya, while his wife and child lived in the "north". It made sense that a seemingly poor captain wouldn’t let his beloved family live in a less scenic place.

Tasha’s previous negotiating skills, combined with the supernatural Ghostly abilities, were starting to resemble the tricks of a street charlatan.

The new card featured an army of shadowy figures, which appeared dimmer compared to the previous group card.

"The remnants of Captain Halite, a normal human army, were depleted due to battle losses and withering curses. Without any professional regular army to provide support and supplies, morale needed to be kept up. Apart from a few officers who had received education at the Arya Military Academy, and Captain Halite’s decent leadership among regular humans, there were no additional advantages. Converting them all into zombies might be more cost-effective."

[Military Atmosphere]: Soldiers, heed my command! Within your sphere of influence, when you deliver orders with a loud slogan or precise words, the recipients will subconsciously tend to obey, just like new soldiers rising at dawn for a run in a military setting. The stronger the willpower of the recipient, the longer the time since the order was given, the more disagreeable the order, and the more frequently it is used on the same group, the weaker this effect becomes. It may not work or only last a few minutes, as after all, an atmosphere is just an atmosphere.

The various constraints of accompanying skills seemed abstract, which Tasha pondered could be a useful niche skill at some point, a pleasant surprise. As for the seemingly unimpressive card descriptions, she didn’t mind too much. Reality wasn’t a game of size comparison; a merchant with weak attack power was quite useful in life, and a recognized army maintaining order in the neighborhood was a thousand times better than Skeleton Soldiers parading the streets.

The biggest trouble now was the aftereffects of the withering curse.

Halite straightforwardly explained the current situation. They were just soldiers responsible for using "Wither Gas" and "Clean Edge" (that magic cannon). They had little knowledge about the specific effects of the weapons, let alone how to solve the issue. When Tasha mentioned the solutions Victor had talked about, the captain who had studied for four years at the military academy in the Red Dragon capital of Aryan said he had never seen a spell caster before.

"Magic comes from the abyss, divine spells come from the Heavenly Realm. How could humans continue the tradition of traitors?" he said confidently. "I have heard rumors that some ancient families in the Red Dragon capital still keep spell casters to bless their family’s good fortune. Even if they exist, they are well protected, and I don’t think we could get any help from them. As for antidotes, the army carries some, but they are only used against common venomous snakes and wound infections."

Victor laughed disbelievingly.

"Are you kidding me…" he muttered. "I can believe that divine spells are cursed by the gods, but magic? Those damn clever elves would have already found a way. Are you going to throw away powerful weapons captured from the enemy just to ‘end the tradition of traitors’? Wizards won’t be killed by these fools!"

"You said the ground now is like a ‘zero magic zone,’" Tasha said, "so, does it mean magic cannot be used now?"

"It’s just that magic is as scarce as in a zero magic zone!" Victor said firmly. "Magic is also one of the basic properties of the Primary Material Plane. Magic will not disappear as long as this plane exists!"

Victor’s intimidating demeanor made Tasha realize that things might be bad for them. But if there were no spell casters, the "fireworks" released previously would not have attracted worldwide attention. That was probably the only benefit.

Magic is scarce, Professionals are rare, no spell casters, no encounter with powerful extraordinary races… What has happened in Aryan?

Various pieces of information formed a blurry picture in Tasha’s mind. Previous speculations became increasingly uncertain as she delved deeper into understanding. The truth of the world was like a puzzle in the mist, and the messy situation at hand was urgent.

Halite told his trusted ally about the current situation, and they secretly started a collaboration between two factions who were recently at odds with each other. The corpses and partially transformed sleepers were sent into a dungeon, while the Oak Elder was planted outside the range of the withering curse. Tasha, taking a risk, enveloped the military’s accommodation with a high concentration of Natural Aura to allow them to sleep soundly. The remaining forces of Captain Halite were seen as a resource by Tasha, and at this critical moment, whoever turned into a zombie, Tasha would surely feel as regretful as a capitalist whose investment shrinks.

The Captain is indeed quite useful.

The zombie incidents in Red Gum County did not escalate further, rumors were suppressed, and most residents were unaware of the current situation. Deer Horn Town barely regained peace, and the residents were like startled birds, grateful that no more undead attacked them for the time being. The Captain convinced the managers of two gathering points (by whatever means necessary), and as news spread among the remaining soldiers that the northern military leadership had let them fend for themselves, dissatisfaction and anger towards the superiors gradually fermented, and more and more people would approve of the compromises the Captain made for their survival.

Just as Tasha continued experimenting with using the Force of Nature to dispel the withering curse, a strange accident occurred.

A doctor from Red Gum County actually sneaked into the dungeon.