Chapter 261: Blood and Construction

One day, after completing his entries in the Spell Record, Shaoke exited the laboratory and stepped outside. Having spent months without sunlight, his complexion was deathly pale, as if he were gravely ill.

Whenever he ventured outdoors, he would lower the hood of his cloak to expose his head to the sun—sunlight improved his skin’s appearance. This was primarily to prepare for the upcoming inspection by Mage Roman, who consistently insisted he spend more time outside, believing it beneficial to his health.

Shaoke moved through the dense forest, heading toward an extremely secluded spot where, based on past experience and time calculations, he still had some valuable magical materials left to collect.

After swiftly traversing the forest for nearly a magic hour, Shaoke suddenly slowed his pace—and even dispelled the Support Spells active on his body. Before him lay a small, secluded hollow. For reasons unknown, no exceptionally tall trees grew within; only low shrubs and a variety of flowering plants dotted the area.

A colony of Snow Bees inhabited this hollow. Shaoke’s objective was to extract a small quantity of blood from the Snow Bee Queen for storage. He had discovered this hollow years earlier while scouting locations for his underground laboratory. At the time, he’d even contemplated slaughtering the entire colony to obtain the Snow Bee Queen’s rare blood—but ultimately abandoned the idea, prioritizing long-term benefits over short-term gain.

Shaoke retrieved a small jade box containing a pale-white balm. He applied it to exposed areas of his body, took a deep breath, and began walking deeper into the hollow.

Under the balm’s effect, the fist-sized Snow Bees hovering in the air paid no attention to this intruder and continued tending to the flowers. Occasionally, Snow Bees twice that size flew past—according to Shaoke’s understanding, these were guards. Sometimes a Snow Bee hovered near him, yet he kept walking without pause. Through prolonged observation, he had learned most of their behavioral patterns—even compiling a detailed dossier on Snow Bees, stored securely in his laboratory.

The hollow was not large. At his usual pace, Shaoke reached its far end after roughly a magic hour. There resided the Snow Bee Queen. Unlike terrestrial bees—or other bee species in this world—this Snow Bee colony possessed six queens, all female. Based on his observations, dominance among them was determined by reproductive output: the queen producing the most offspring held the highest authority.

The hive was constructed across several taller shrubs clinging to the cliff face. Massive and desk-sized, it teemed with Snow Bees entering and exiting at high speed. Crystallized honey encased the supporting shrubs entirely, gleaming beautifully from a distance.

Shaoke approached the hive slowly. Ignoring the Snow Bees swarming around him, he abruptly activated a sixth-rank Defensive Spell. Immediately afterward, he cast a wide-area Sleep Spell. Under its influence, Snow Bees near the hive collapsed one by one onto the ground—and no further bees emerged from the hive.

Paying no heed to the distant Snow Bees now converging upon him, Shaoke swiftly withdrew several tools and laid them on the ground. Then, wielding a jade knife with practiced precision, he sliced into the hive—as he had done many times before. His swift, accurate incisions quickly revealed the hive’s interior.

At its very center, six fist-sized white Snow Bees appeared before him. Using a custom-made syringe, he carefully extracted blood from each queen’s heart—taking only a minuscule amount from each, deliberately leaving one queen untouched.

The extracted blood was immediately injected into a jade vial inscribed with over a dozen Magic Scripts. Within this vial, the Snow Bee Queen’s blood would remain fresh for a considerable duration. Further processing would occur later, back in his laboratory. Shaoke hastily restored the damaged sections of the hive to their original positions, sealing the wounds with a specialized magical adhesive. Before departing, he also cut off a sizable chunk of crystallized honey—intended as his drink for the coming days.

By now, a large swarm of Snow Bees had gathered around Shaoke. They cautiously bumped against his protective barrier but refrained from launching a fierce assault—the intense magical fluctuations radiating from him deterred them. Instinctively, when sensing dangerous magical resonance, they chose flight over confrontation—to ensure the colony’s survival. After all, they were barely even low-tier magical beasts.

As Shaoke departed, the intensity of those magical fluctuations gradually faded. The Snow Bees swiftly checked on their queens. After a brief interval, they resumed their duties. Meanwhile, Shaoke cheerfully reached the hollow’s outer edge—where he would process the Snow Bee Queen’s blood.

He added a pinch of pale-blue powder to the vial, shook it gently, and considered the task complete. Provided the vial remained intact, the Snow Bee Queen’s blood could now be preserved indefinitely.

Upon finishing, Shaoke cast enhancement spells—including Eagle’s Eye—to sharpen his vision. He would observe the Snow Bees for a while and take notes, laying groundwork for a plan he had contemplated for years.

We have mentioned repeatedly that a mage’s life is profoundly monotonous and dull. If anything merits celebration, it is experimental progress, personal advancement, or acquisition of valuable resources. Shaoke remained here for a full month before departing. Over time, he observed the Snow Bees gradually returning to their usual calm—even the queens he had bled occasionally emerged from the hive under escort by worker bees.

They directed other Snow Bees to replenish the crystallized honey he had taken.

Back in his underground laboratory, Shaoke felt a mild discomfort after such prolonged exposure to the outside world—but dismissed it quickly. His next goal was to melt down the precious magical materials and integrate them into the existing magic arrays before leaving the lab, thereby refining and perfecting the space.

Shaoke soon set his plan in motion. After completing his daily routine, he meticulously blended various rare magical substances, grinding them into fine powders using specialized techniques. Finally, he carved a large cauldron from a slab of obsidian—modeling it after a cauldron from his past life. Not only did he engrave abundant magic arrays and scripts onto its surface, but he also incorporated depictions of Earthly mythical beasts into vacant spaces, adding Chinese annotations beside each. This was one of Shaoke’s minor eccentricities.

After extensive, painstaking preparation, he formally commenced filling the magic arrays that day. Chanting an incantation, arcane fire blazed within the great cauldron—sustained by his own mana, high-grade crystals, and a magic core. He then began steadily introducing the prepared materials.

As each substance entered the flame, its color shifted—from the initial pale purple to successive hues. Each new addition triggered a distinct transformation. Shaoke knew his work proceeded smoothly; after all, he had devoted nearly five or six years preparing for this moment.

As time passed, after pouring in the final vial of Snow Bee Queen’s blood, the arcane fire abruptly turned silver-white. Once the silver-white flame stabilized, Shaoke felt his mana draining rapidly. Fortunately, years of cultivation had amplified his mana reserves several-fold since attaining the sixth rank—and its quality had improved dramatically—enabling him to sustain this expenditure, albeit briefly.

A silvery liquid streamed from the dragon-head spout atop the cauldron, followed by eight additional streams from other spouts. This amalgam—forged from numerous rare magical substances—quickly flowed along the ground-level magic arrays, rapidly coating the walls and central pillar.

Within mere dozens of breaths, every magic array in the space was completely filled with the silvery liquid. At that instant, the flow ceased entirely. Shaoke exhaled deeply in relief—at least he hadn’t failed this time; failure would have been devastating.

After partially recovering his depleted mana, he dared not delay and proceeded immediately to the next phase. One by one, he chanted ancient Magic Scripts. Vast quantities of mana and spiritual energy converged, causing the scripts to manifest as luminous energy forms suspended in midair. These esoteric glyphs—capable of giving ordinary mages migraines—hovered briefly before settling rapidly onto the walls, pillars, floor—and even onto the great cauldron itself.

Fortunately, the chanting mage failed to notice this detail—or else he might have attempted to remove the cauldron first, since these scripts also enhanced structural durability and energetic cohesion. Once infused with the scripts, the cauldron became permanently anchored to the space—irremovable by the mage, unless the entire space collapsed.