After Duncan shot and killed the priest of the Germanic Barbarian Race, he gradually felt different, as if he faintly sensed the flow of magic power.
From a god’s eye view, a small segment of a blue mana bar appeared in the projected image.
Compared to Duncan’s life bar, which is twice that of an ordinary person, the unlocked mana bar is just a tiny blip, easily overlooked if not carefully observed.
"Does everyone have so little magic? Or is it just me with this tiny bit?"
After entering the forest, Duncan paused for a moment to feel. With his eyes closed, he could genuinely perceive the flow of magic within him, but once he interacted with the outside world, the magic became sluggish and lazy, like a candle in the wind, ready to extinguish in the next moment.
"Can I cast spells? No, wait! I don’t seem to know any spells yet."
Duncan attempted to manipulate the magic within him, and imperceptibly, it seemed as if a breeze swept by, lifting the fallen leaves a meter high, and then his mana bar was completely drained.
If this is the spell-casting ability of an ordinary priest, then witches are indeed dangerous supernatural beings, at least they can perform some decent tricks.
Duncan felt it wasn’t his fault; it must be something wrong with the world.
It’s all the world’s fault!
——"Rune Language Mastery (Mysticism): A mystical knowledge originating from the Norse Pantheon, differing from ordinary script. The rune language mastered by priests possesses certain supernatural power. You can now understand and grasp some simple rune language."
In Nordic mythology, Odin, the father of gods, in pursuit of higher wisdom, hung himself on a tree for nine days and nights, contemplating the mysteries of the universe. When he descended from the World Tree, he comprehended the secrets of the rune language.
The rune language can be considered as spellcasting material (runes).
The Crow Queen, Triss, once said that true magic requires the aid of rituals, tools, external forces, and other factors.
If it is a priest of the church, what they need most is pious faith. But most of them lack the ability to cast spells, and monks from the Hermitage must rely on some holy relics to perform true spells. In Duncan’s view, this should be the difference between priests and warlocks; the power of priests largely comes from faith in divine spirits.
Eastern spellcasting is similar, part of it is one’s own mana, and part is borrowed through rituals. (Such as Taoist altar rituals to invite gods.)
Once the mana bar is unlocked, everything else is easier.
Duncan started with the physique of an ordinary person, now stronger than the Berserkers of the Barbarian Race.
He checked the strategic map from a god’s eye view and found that the released captive slaves hadn’t gone far, and some even lingered at the forest’s edge.
"We can’t just leave ."
The burly warrior with an intimidating look and a whip scar on his face said, "The ranger who saved us might still be in danger, we must stay here to support him."
After their own tribal clan was destroyed, they became part of the empire, loyal for over two hundred years.
These people are loyal mercenaries, their reputation much better than the Barbarian foreign legion.
That British Legion infantry hesitated, "He said he didn’t need our help."
The Sarmatian rider shook his head, "Then you leave first, I’ll stay on my own; if he’s chased by Saxons, I can be of some help."
Among the escaped slave captives, four or five actually decided to stay with him.
The breeze swept through the mountain forest, making many shiver from the cold.
When Duncan approached their position, most of the slave captives had already left, yet the British Legion infantry stayed, holding a short spear, climbing up a tree to look for distant firelight, whispering, "Something’s on fire."
"The Saxons are in chaos, they shouldn’t be able to stop that ranger."
In the darkness, a deep male voice sounded, "Why haven’t you left yet?"
The Sarmatian rider, alert and gripping his war axe, saw Duncan’s silhouette in the darkness and finally breathed a sigh of relief, bowing respectfully, "We’re afraid, sir, of those Barbarian Race chasing you, intending to stay to aid you."
Duncan stepped out of the shadows, giving the other person a second look.
He smiled, pondering, "What are your plans next?"
The captives present exchanged glances. Before the British Legion infantry could speak, the Sarmatian rider said solemnly, "Revenge! Take back our homeland!"
"Whoever can lead us against the Saxons, we’ll follow!"
He had already completely lost faith in Duke of Dingtiger.
Three thousand men fighting over a thousand, defeated so tragically, nearly wiped out.
This defeat led many to turn to King Uther.
No matter what, Great Dragon Head - Uther is still quite capable in battle, at least he can fight back and forth against the Saxons, not losing over and over again.
Duncan pondered, "I’m recruiting people, preparing to counterattack Southampton."
Upon hearing this, the Sarmatian rider’s eyes lit up, without hesitation, he knelt on one knee, "In the name of the ancestral Dragon Banner, I, Clegane of Hampshire, pledge to follow you!"
He didn’t care about others present, instantly becoming a green marked unit.
Suddenly, the other captives were at a loss; they didn’t know who Duncan was. Even if Duke of Dingtiger couldn’t fight, they were more inclined to turn to King Uther.