Gauss stood there for a long time, then let out a long breath.
He quietly took stock of the sweeping changes to his mind and body.
First, it was as if the whole world had been polished—everything was crisper, more transparent. He felt he could make out the veins in distant leaves, the sunlight refracting in dewdrops, the drift paths of dust motes in the air—every tiny detail laid bare.
Strictly speaking, that wasn't "perception." His thought speed and his brain's ability to process information had both been raised to a new level. In short, the "hardware"—eyes, nose, mouth, ears—was the same, but the "software" had been upgraded and optimized.
Looking now at the Level 2 spell model for [Shaping Magic: Clay] at the center of his mind-sea, structures that once felt complicated—borderline opaque—now presented themselves clearly, flowing and lucid. He was sure that if he had to study this Level 2 spell again, he could save a great deal of time.
His mental power had also increased—and even undergone a qualitative shift.
He closed his eyes and, at a thought, let his mental power seep outward. It slipped free of the body and brushed the real world.
In that moment, he "saw."
Even with his eyes closed, he could "see" a full 360 degrees around him, like a god's-eye view. It was a marvelous sensation, as if a pair of "eyes" had opened on the plane of consciousness itself—not dependent on reflected light, but a "spirit-sight" based purely on mental sense.
After a brief look, however, he felt a significant drain. He opened his eyes; the invisible field spread around him withdrew like the tide and folded back into his body. Stability returned.
So, with INT 12, he still couldn't sustain long separations of mental power from the body. The outside environment was too hostile for "fragile" free-floating spirit. He had to keep outputting and controlling mental force at high intensity to maintain cohesion and resist environmental "pushback."
If his INT rose further, this awkwardness would ease. He even imagined that with higher stats, naked mental power alone might be able to nudge reality—without tapping mana or any other spellwork at all.
Beyond mind and spirit, his bodily refit was finishing too.
A surge of fullness and strength coursed through him; muscle fibers had been rewoven. If he looked inward now, he'd see those fibers ordered more cleanly, tougher and stronger—like tidy production lines with a certain austere beauty. His body felt like the finest precision machine—and also a work of art, seamless and sublime.
His heartbeat was steady, powerful, pumping vigorous blood; lung capacity and resilience were up as well. Each breath drew in and stored more air; his oxygen-carrying and utilization both jumped sharply.
In terms of breathing and pulse, that meant startlingly low rates. A single breath might be enough to hold under water for a very long time.
He took in the bodily changes. His silhouette hadn't shifted much, but the interior was a different story. Even without mana—back in his previous world—this physique alone would qualify as superhuman.
He glanced at his Adventurer's Handbook again. After the title shifted from [Goblin Slayer] to [Goblin Butcher], more info had popped up.
"…"
He read closely: the entry effects had upgraded.
Current Effect 1: Bane – Against goblins and their advanced variants, your attacks deal an additional +30% damage (Critical Strike: You have a chance to trigger a critical hit…)
Effect 2: Bloodthirst – When you kill goblins or their advanced variants, you have a chance to restore 2% stamina.
He finished reading with a satisfied look.
The title upgrade first and foremost raised the key Effect 1: the bonus damage up from 20% to 30%. That's a solid bump, because this goblin-specific multiplier stacks on top of all other buffs. The white staff's spell amp, the sub-core spell slot bonus, Spell Proficiency, and anything else down the line—if the target's a goblin, this bonus sits on top.
So while "just 10%" looks small, it's not.
The second change was a new entry: [Bloodthirst]. Also goblin-specific—and a good fit for him—kills have a chance to refund 2% stamina.
He mulled it. In the short term, Bloodthirst might not feel huge, but he didn't write it off. He wasn't short-sighted. Two percent may be small now, but once the title advances again—judging by [Bane]—Effect 2 should scale up as well. With stronger base stats then, even a small percentage would restore a lot.
In goblin-dense fights he might refill stamina just by mowing them down. Ordinary goblins would be little walking, self-propelled stamina batteries.
And it's not only for stomping trash. Goblins are the most common vassals for elite monsters. Even in elite hunts, if he can push these entries higher, Bloodthirst could feed him stamina throughout the fight—letting him grind an elite down over time.
Goblin-tagged entries—but the use cases go far beyond goblins.
"Hss…"
The thought made his heart thump. Goblins' "uses" kept stacking. His hands itched. Shame the cave was already cleared—no green skins nearby for a while.
"Gauss…"
"Gauss… you okay?"
He'd gone quiet a bit long, enough for Alia to notice. She and Serandur watched him, and for a heartbeat felt something in his presence shift—his existence seemed to spike to a frightening intensity, as if he were the center of the world.
"I'm fine. Better than fine," he said, fighting down a smile.
"Good. If anything feels off, tell us," Alia said, and let it lie. Even teammates need boundaries. After this long, even she could sense Gauss's… specialness, but she rarely pried—just as he hadn't when he'd asked about her home and accepted a vague answer. A kind of tacit understanding.
What surprised her was that the newcomer, Serandur, said nothing either. Normally anyone would be curious after that fleeting, exalted aura. Wasn't he even a little?
Serandur's face, however, quietly smoothed from a "just as expected" look. He'd noticed the metamorphosis earlier than Alia, and it confirmed a suspicion from the road. Now he believed it more firmly than ever. That instant had been proof of divine favor—no doubt.
And so, on the strength of mutual understanding, the team let the transformation pass without comment.
"Don't worry," Alia said. "Echo checked the area. Nothing slipped past us."
"Thanks."
Gauss looked at the growing pile of goblin left ears the clay spiders brought out. He counted at a glance—matched the kill count on his panel: 44. After ordering them to sweep the cave one more time and finding nothing, he recalled the spiders.
"Level 2 Spell Shaping Magic: Clay Lv3 (0/50)."
Double good news: Clay Shaping had just pinged to Lv3. Plenty of work ahead.
"It's completely cleared," Gauss told the young villager still peering into the cave. "This is my home turf. I'm not going to half-do it."
The youth had only been frozen in awe, but hearing Gauss's words—and that last line—he blinked in surprise. "You're from around here, sir?" He couldn't help hoping—Forest Stream Village? If they were fellow villagers, maybe he could make a connection. But he'd never heard of a top-tier adventurer coming from his village.
"Mm." Gauss nodded, then shook his head. "Stone Creek."
"Oh—Stone Creek. I know it." A twinge of regret—so a big shot from the next village over.
Back at the treeline, he bowed to the three and rode his pony back to deliver the good news. No need for such tight watches for a while.
Gauss's team also headed back to Stone Creek.
…
At Horst's house.
Only after shooing away a stream of curious neighbors did the family finally sit together.
Gauss's sudden return had left them reeling. Even the ever-diligent Hawk wasn't thinking of hauling water to the fields. The only carefree ones were the toddler in Hawk's arms and Cicero, who was sprawled on the straw mat, stretching like a cat.
Cicero wasn't troubled by adult thoughts. She rolled twice on the prickly mat and decided this was the best day of her life: the missing second brother had come back, and he'd brought her favorite thing—meat.
She'd never tasted anything so tender it danced on her tongue. Even stuffed as she was, she licked her lips at the memory. If only she could eat like that every day… Even at not quite nine, she knew that was a fantasy. She swallowed and tried to bookmark the flavor forever.
"Sigh…" Hawk's guilt deepened after Gauss left the room, hugging his little boy. "We wronged the kid. Thank heavens he made something of himself."
"Hawk, since Gauss is doing well now, maybe we should…" Meilin ventured carefully. She meant: things had been hard at home. With Horst's leg worsening and hunting stopped, their grain came from Hawk's hoe and the occasional snare, with a trickle of money from the handwork she and Rosa did—enough to eat, not enough to live well. Otherwise they wouldn't have eaten like that in front of guests.
"No. I won't wear that shame," Hawk cut her off. "He left alone and we couldn't help. Now he's carved his own path—how can we ask him for anything? The fact he came back to see us is enough. Don't put me in a spot by saying the wrong thing in front of him."
"…Alright." Meilin looked at her stubborn husband and sighed. He was as straightforward as they came—in everything. Even with Horst's patient lessons, he'd never been a great hunter; hunting demands adaptability, and that wasn't him.
As they each sat with their own thoughts, footsteps sounded in the yard.
"More visitors?"
They started to rise—when a familiar figure stepped in.
"Little brother? Back so fast?" Hawk blinked. The goblin site was a ways off; Stone Creek hadn't been too nervous simply because of the distance. It felt like Gauss had barely left.
"Job's done." Gauss shook the sack in his hand—stuffed with goblin left ears.
"So quick?" Hawk knew his brother was strong now, but the speed still stunned him. Gauss looked as if he'd just taken a stroll—no blood anywhere. If a stranger had said it, Hawk would've thought it a lie.
"Brother, can I see?" Cicero hopped off the mat and toddled over.
"Careful—don't be scared. They're goblin ears," Gauss said after a moment's thought, handing it over. A little exposure to monsters wasn't a bad thing. She flinched at the bloody contents, face going pale—then steadied, patted her chest, and peered again.
"They're… really ears. So many green ears."
The adults leaned in. Piled thick—dozens. He'd really done it. And with his team spotless, none of them knew how he'd managed it—which only drove home that Gauss was now beyond their understanding.
"Brother, are these for eating?" Cicero blurted, blank as a duck. Gauss almost lost it. Kid's got nerves—or a knowledge gap.
"Of course not. They're for turn-in. Goblin meat's poisonous."
"Oh… good." Cicero sagged in relief. Alia, watching, wiped at nonexistent sweat. Was monster-eating a hereditary trait in this family? What child looks at bloody goblin ears and thinks "food"—on first sight, no less? Truly Gauss's sister.
"Gauss, how long will you stay this time?" Rosa asked, eyes bright.
He thought for a moment. This trip was for family and rest; no need to run off the instant the job was done—he needed to check on things at home.
And after that fight—and the three fresh stat points, INT up to 12, Clay to Lv3—his class's "mana cup" felt full again. The bottleneck was paper-thin—he judged a breakthrough to Level 3 within two or three days.
At such a node, no need to push. He'd break through in Stone Creek, then move on.
"Two or three days," he said simply. On the way back he and Alia had already agreed; she understood—after nearly two years, a few more days at home was the least.
"Good. Stay—let me look at you," Rosa smiled. She'd worried when he darted off for a contract that he was already planning to leave. This wasn't long, but it was something.
…
That afternoon, Gauss asked Serandur to examine Horst's leg. The bad ankle had lingered for years, a limp at the best of times, stabs of pain in the rain.
A priest had tried before, to no effect—skill or stubborn pathology, who could say. They'd given up hope.
Hearing Gauss's request kindled some again. They were still a bit uneasy around Serandur, but his species gave them an odd confidence. Maybe…
"Of course, Captain. I'll take a look," Serandur said softly. Only then did they realize that beneath the cold reptilian exterior he was easier than he looked—gentle, even.
He slid over to Horst. Once the old man sat, Serandur bent and laid gentle fingers on the ankle. Sweat broke on Horst's brow—not from pain, but from the primal jolt of that close, feral presence. Old blood knows to fear powerful others.
Serandur seemed not to notice. Green, life-rich energy flowed from his hands—soothing Horst's body, lulling his eyes half-closed. The moment it touched the bad joint, the pain vanished. Warmth spread—so comfortable he might have groaned if the family weren't watching.
Then Serandur lifted his hand and frowned briefly in thought.
"How is it?" Gauss asked for everyone.
"I can fix it," Serandur said flatly.
The room exhaled as one—then brightened with joy.
"The old fracture never set perfectly," Serandur continued. "It healed slightly off, left the joint surface uneven, and over time caused deforming changes. There's also ligament damage that never recovered, so the ankle's unstable—hence the chronic pain—and a bit of low-grade inflammation…"
He laid out the pathology.
"Thank you, Se—Serandur. You're far better than those quack clerics," Horst said. Serandur shook his head. "I'm just doing my part. That cleric was likely an apprentice—or a narrow specialist—good at bleeding control and fresh trauma, not chronic structural issues."
Gauss knew most of the family didn't follow—but "fixable" was all that mattered.
"Then I'm counting on you," he said.
"Don't worry, Captain. I'll do my best," Serandur smiled—and everyone shivered a little. Still, with good news for Horst, their impression of him changed drastically.
In the countryside, you don't offend the doctor—ever. And they knew he was obliging for Gauss's sake.
He got to work at once. Ten-odd minutes later, Serandur let go; Horst stood and walked steadily, looking fully recovered. There was, Serandur said, a stubborn trace left; a few days of herbal poultices would clear it. Lacking a few herbs, he excused himself and slid off toward the woods.
"Should you follow him? What if he meets a beast?" Horst fretted.
"…No need. Serandur's strong," Gauss said. Not a lie. Priest or not, Serandur was formidable; with his conjured weapon he'd shrug off animals, and even same-tier fighters would struggle to put him down. With his mobility, retreat was always on the table. A nimble, mobility-capped cleric.
While Serandur hunted herbs, Gauss didn't sit idle. He and Alia took Cicero to the creek to play. Barefoot in the shallows, Alia and Cicero chased tiny fish; Ulfen and Echo helped herd the prey. Silver-bell laughter chimed over the water as the basket filled.
Gauss drew his gaze back. A cool breeze lifted his short black hair; he felt unusually calm. It was as if he'd shrugged off an invisible weight. With family matters at last in motion, he didn't have to carry the worry every moment. His mind grew more lively for it.
He drew the white staff. Warm light bloomed; clay on the ground swelled into four clay spiders crouched before him. With Clay Shaping at Lv3, the spell felt different—more flexible, able to fuse other materials.
He'd prepared a set of suitable reagents for this day long ago, waiting in silence for Lv3: mixed toxins, fuel and explosive compounds, steel ingots, phosphors, gels.
He beckoned one spider forward—Whitey, the strongest. Various materials in hand, he stared at it, a mind backed by INT 12 racing.
In his plan, these materials would yield:
1. Venom Spider form—using internal channels and grooves in the mandibles to inject toxins on strike.
2. Blast-Burn Spider form—suicide sapper: fuse fuel and explosive compounds; compressed internal space yields a violent detonation.
Clay constructs don't truly die; even after "self-destructing" they can reconstitute via mana—no "burning the bridge while you're still on it so they can't cross.."
It's subtle, too. First-timers won't guess its function from a glance; even if they do, dodging won't be easy—clay spiders excel at mobility on any terrain.
3. Steel-Carapace Scout form—melt and shape metal over key areas—mandibles, head, back—growing an angled steel armor for much higher hardness, offense, and defense. Shock transmission through steel into the clay core wasn't a worry; they aren't biological, no vulnerable organs. Once integrated, the shell raises overall sturdiness by a tier.
4. Decoy Spider form—use phosphors and special lures to glow in darkness and emit a scent that draws attention—pure bait. Why not use Light? You can, but the spell's signature is more alarming than natural glow; that's bait that scares, not bait that lures.
5. Binding Spider form—spray or smear powerful adhesive to glue enemies—especially small ones—to ground or wall, locking movement. When needed, the same adhesion assists climbing sheer or slick rock.
Those were the designs; which would work, he had to test. But the odds felt good. The spell model told him clay spiders could absorb materials, convert and amplify their properties. Mana augments substance; once a material is "memorized," a corresponding rune forms in the model, and mana can reproduce the effect endlessly.
At that point, "toxin," "steel," "gel," etc. are magical effects, not physical stuff; when mana runs dry, they revert. If the toxin's baseline potency is 1, after fusion it might be 1.5 or higher. Blast strength, steel hardness, lure appeal, gel tack—all boosted by magic.
Magic is like that.
Whitey stepped up. Gauss drew a vial of dark-green venom—his most feasible plan to start. The spider quivered, sending a fond, confident pulse.
"Good."
He drizzled the venom over it as the staff released a ripple. He'd swapped the sub-core spell slot to [Shaping Magic: Clay] days ago to accelerate mastery; now, a fresh wash of clay-tinged mana poured in. The spider's surface rippled; its mucus came alive and drank the venom greedily.
This was a pricey toxin he'd bought—taken from a rating 3 monster, the Jade Thorn Viper, first found in the Jade Forest and named for its vine-like look.
Only rating 3, but once it injects you, most rating 4 creatures suffer paralysis—the exact duration depending on constitution and regen. Its problem is contact; higher-tier prey move too well.
In Gauss's hands, use cases multiply. People are cleverer than monsters—and teamwork can always create an opening.
As the magic took hold, emerald webbing spread where venom touched—like throbbing veins. The staff's waves suppressed the alien energy bound up in the venom; only once it was mastered could he make it his. The rarer the thing in nature, the stronger the power inside; the fusion target must match his current mana, or he can't suppress it.
Gauss's mana dwarfed his peers. Even at Level 2—on the cusp of 3—his raw output outstripped the energy left by a rating 3 beast. Smoothly, he converted the venom. A deep-green, serpent-shaped rune formed on the spell model.
The toxin wicked into internal pores and bound at a micro-magical level to the clay matrix. The plain white spider reshaped—bulk compressed to slim agility; mandible tips sharpened, seeping a green gleam that looked ready to pierce leather and inject poison.
A white-and-green spider radiating danger was born.
Compared with before, it looked several times stronger. Gauss nudged it through [Proto–Hive Mind], and it moved—
"So fast!"
It had barely set off and he was already impressed. His earlier clay spiders had never moved like this. It leapt; a streak of green in the air—and the mandible tip tapped a sparrow resting on a rock. No better target available.
He'd already dropped into shared vision; every barb of the sparrow's feathers stood out. The instant the tip touched—before it even sank in—venomous energy pulsed, green flaring outward—"whoosh"—and the sparrow melted, a splash of blood on stone.
"What a vicious toxin."
He swallowed. Yes, it was a tiny mortal creature, but the violence of that energy was clear—the bird hadn't merely died; it had melted. Those are different.
So Clay Shaping really does amplify the toxin.
But… he felt the spider's mana drain significantly. At root, the spider converted the sample into magical venom; the stronger the venom, the faster the drain. Against real monsters it wouldn't be so absolute; it would be a control/debuff weapon, weakening targets.
"Good enough."
Hit by this, even rating 3 or 4 beasts would suffer.
He went on to test the Blast-Burn, Steel-Carapace Scout, Decoy, and Binding forms. Unexpectedly, every single one worked. Five runes settled around the model.
The most dramatic was the Steel-Carapace—like a mini iron spider-bot: tough, dense, hard to crack; mandibles truly steel-blade now. A mobile metal shell that's hard to kill.
The Blast-Burn was, as expected, single-use and the most destructive—searing heat at the core and a shockwave over several meters.
After several trials, interest sparked across Gauss's face. The freedom of it let him rediscover the joy of spell-craft—like playing a max-freedom creator mode. Only now the "units" were real, and would truly help on the road.
"Level 2 Spell Shaping Magic: Clay Lv3 (20/50)."
He opened the panel. In barely ten minutes, proficiency had jumped by 20. At the same time, deep inside, the mana cup reached its brim.
Boom!!!
A torrent of magic welled up from within.