Once again, I return to writing in this log—after how long? A month and a half? I think it's been nearly eight months since I arrived in this cursed place. Honestly, it's hard to count the actual days passing, since there's no such thing as night here—only a kind of eternal "sunset" where the "stars," like eyes, rise above. Darkness dominates, yet there's still just enough light to see where you're walking.
The addition of the third alchemical circle to my magic transfer spell was a complete success, after I managed to calculate how many sacrifices I had to make without killing myself. Saying the death of a few hundred demonic creatures didn't bother me—if it meant reaching my goal—might seem like a rather edgy statement. But truly, in my situation, it was either be the prey or be the predator. These creatures would've killed me like any wild animal if it filled their bellies, so I simply did the same they would've done to me if I were weaker.
Anyway, with the new energy efficiency of the spell, my magic reserve surged into the mid-tier range, just barely reaching the minimum needed to be considered a mage of that level. Which was good, because in the short term, I could become a high-tier mage in just a couple more months—until the efficiency of the alchemical spell stopped being effective due to the inconceivable amount of energy required for the supreme class. Since few humans had ever come here, there was no clear way to classify it—unless I followed the same measurement standard of a hundred spells per tier, which didn't seem accurate to me, especially since the book didn't list any spells beyond the high-tier, leaving me with no way to compare.
Anyway, that's what happened over these months—besides the fact that I ventured into lands with stronger demonic monsters, although I wouldn't even know where to start: everything looks the same. The monsters vary a little, with different traits and species, but other than that, I haven't encountered anything stronger than a group of wyverns.
If those monsters were considered strong—at least by human standards—they did lift medium-sized chunks of sand just by flying, which says a lot. Honestly, pretty much everything here is physically much stronger than I am—I had to admit that grudgingly. If not for some physical enhancement spells I constantly cast, along with the modified clothing I wore, I'd have been killed by any random hit. No matter how much magic I had, it meant nothing in the face of imminent death. That was something I had to fix long term—being a glass cannon, no matter how powerful, was still being glass.
And if I didn't have my four cannons at hand, those flying or ranged enemies would've been a real problem when I ran out of magic after prolonged fights. I owed these girls a lot; I'd have to take good care of them. I just hoped my sincerity during their maintenance was enough, for now.
The ring named itself Heartbreaker when it started flirting with Amistad. Not on my watch—can't you see she's just a young lady? Thankfully, the staff, in a chivalrous act, stepped in before I could, so I decided to give him an elegant name: Formín, the chivalrous staff.
What else was there to add? Oh, right—Amistad says I'm going insane, but I don't believe her because she says it in that comedic tone you'd only use to mock someone. Though Abrazos sometimes gives me that look, you know, the "he's right" kind of face, while Libertad doesn't think that's true. And what does Caricias say? Nothing. She's a sweetheart who just likes seeing everyone happy.
…
After wandering for about four more months—completing a full year since my arrival in this world—the landscape began to shift. The blood-red sand softened to a pinkish tone, and the rocks, which once looked like the bones of massive beasts, became more refined, more elegant in shape, with a brighter shade of gray. The monsters here were faster, their colors blending between magenta and purple. The plants stretched out like tentacles, twisted flowers whispering tunes of debauchery, mixed with pleasant scents that invited you to smell them—only to end up as fertilizer for the plants.
Just looking at this place, I could only pray I wasn't in the Warp—or worse, in the lands of the Prince of Excess. If I was there, chances are I'd have been corrupted almost instantly, especially next to the God of Magic, simply because he, too, was a mage hungry for power. Not by choice, but by sheer "curiosity" about them. Still, here I was, and I couldn't be sure this wasn't another twisted game from that dark god—even if he didn't consider me important enough for such a conspiracy.
I rubbed my eyes, and Formín was just as displeased by the sight—angry that Heartbreaker actually liked the place. But I ignored their bickering, focusing instead on building a new shelter where I could stay a while longer.
Over these months, I had gained more magical energy, though I was still nearly halfway from reaching high-tier mage level. I finally finished the book *"Human Magic"*—and I must say, I liked it. The types of magic, their mechanisms, the spells, and the required knowledge were all clearly explained.
I had applied the few conceptual spells from the book which, to put it less ironically, were good spells—more useful than powerful, I must say.
The first one was a permanent memory enhancement with a happiness control feature, meaning it allowed a "selective perfect memory." Everything in memory became like an instinctual filing cabinet—I knew exactly where everything was stored, and I could even replay memories like first-person videos. It was basically like a file browser from an operating system—super handy.
The second spell permanently accelerated thought processing by at least five times. Saying the world moved in slow motion was now accurate—even sounds felt stretched. I must say, this is incredibly useful when anticipating monster movements.
The third spell "split" the mind in two permanently, allowing you to think about two things at once with the same mental power as the original mind. Unlike the previous spells, this one could be applied multiple times, but the spell itself warned that having more than sixteen partitions was dangerous, as the "identity" would start to dilute, eventually erasing the "self." So I stopped there. Now, I could literally talk to myself and have a coherent conversation—or, if needed, assign each of the sixteen minds to individual tasks while I stayed focused on surviving. Very handy.
The fourth spell wasn't an enhancement, but rather something useful in normal situations—it was a temporary spell that let me "understand" things with "intent." In short, it let me comprehend any spoken language while active. I'll admit, that sounds useful—even if not for combat. Sadly, I haven't encountered anything here with even a hint of language, so it's currently useless to me.
And the final conceptual spell allowed permanent telepathic communication within a certain range. It only consumed a tiny bit of magic whenever information was sent. Of course, I couldn't use it for the same reason as the previous one.
That sums up everything that happened before reaching these lands of pink sands. My mind had changed due to the mental spells—but only a bit. According to the spells, I had become a little more "logical." That's what happens to everyone who uses them, apparently.
Now I just needed to settle into these new lands.