Chapter 83: Imperfection is Better

Did I dream again last night?

Little Weir sat on the bed, his mind incredibly clear, feeling indescribably comfortable all over.

It wasn’t even light yet, what should he do?

After one session of the Intermediate Muscle and Bone Forging Technique, he didn’t seem to have expended much energy; he didn’t even feel hungry.

This seemed a bit abnormal, didn’t it? Before, he always needed to replenish nutrients after exercising, but what was the situation this time?

Never mind, he’d try visualizing the basic runes first.

Of the thirty-six basic runes, thirteen were already inscribed, but why were three of the remaining twenty-three basic runes in a half-inscribed state, shimmering with captivating light, half-illusory and half-solid, making them exceptionally conspicuous?

Could it be that he couldn’t control his excess mental power in his sleep, and subconsciously inscribed a portion automatically?

Damn it! Visualizing and inscribing basic runes was a very serious matter; if he messed it up, it would definitely cause great damage to his mental sea.

These weren’t just three runes; they were practically three ticking time bombs.

Little Weir was greatly startled and quickly sat up straight, took a deep breath, composed himself, and entered a state of visualization.

A thought suddenly surfaced in his mind: visualize and inscribe the three basic runes simultaneously, without prioritizing any.

Once this thought appeared, it couldn’t be dispelled.

Little Weir didn’t even have time to think it through carefully before a vast amount of mental power enveloped the three basic runes.

He could clearly see every detail on the runes, and it seemed he could even see deeper, hidden things through them.

The three basic runes didn’t even need him to meticulously carve them; they automatically attracted mental power for completion and inscription.

Little Weir felt as if he had become an outsider, a bystander, and surprisingly had the energy to observe the entire process of the basic runes forming.

This was something others couldn’t imagine.

Since he couldn’t resist, he might as well go with the flow.

Little Weir, with his big heart, relaxed instead and watched the inscription process of the three basic runes in detail, feeling as if he could sense their affinity with him.

What exactly was this?

Basic runes had existed for a long time, and no one could clearly explain what meaning they represented.

It seemed that single basic runes had little significance; they only became effective when combined.

But why did he feel that every rune was alive?

They all seemed to have their own thoughts and functions embedded within them.

Light, darkness, revival—suddenly, several words appeared in Little Weir’s mind, vaguely linking to the three basic runes.

In his dream, he seemed to have seen a divine statue, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was.

However, one thing was certain: the improvement in his mental power seemed to be related to the gods.

The three basic runes were successfully inscribed!

No, perhaps this wasn’t inscription, but rather automatic generation.

As long as there was enough mental power, the runes could generate themselves, ensuring accuracy, or even greater perfection.

Man-made things were always inferior to natural ones.

Little Weir seemed to sense a subtle difference; the other thirteen basic runes also underwent slight changes under the influence of these three runes, becoming more complete, more natural, and smoother.

Little Weir did not continue to inscribe new basic runes, even though he clearly felt that his mental power was still very abundant.

He chose to visualize and comprehend the already inscribed runes, as if there was a wonderful feeling within.

The sixteen basic runes shone brightly, and Little Weir’s eyes were tightly closed, yet his mental power was unprecedentedly active.

In places he couldn’t see, specks of magic power were attracted and drilled into his body, transforming into source magic power, increasing his foundation and strengthening his body.

The wonderful feeling receded, and Little Weir felt that he had basically consolidated his gains, immense gains.

Then he got out of bed.

He could see everything in the bedroom even without a light, and although it wasn’t as clear as daytime, he had initially gained night vision.

What exactly was going on?

Something must have happened to him, but he didn’t know what, and he subconsciously refused to find out.

There was a problem! And the problem was very serious, so serious that he was afraid to pursue it.

Moreover, this problem might be something he had understood before and subconsciously refused to think about.

It was as if an invisible hand was forcing him to constantly move forward, constantly improve his strength, as if a voice was saying, “Become stronger; only strong power can protect what you want to protect.”

It wasn’t light yet, and going out now would surely alarm his family.

He had already exceeded his wizard training quota for the day, and he understood the principle of ‘too much is as bad as too little.’

Even if he was truly energetic, Little Weir wouldn’t immediately visualize and inscribe new basic runes.

Giving himself a buffer was the best approach.

He had just completed one set of the Intermediate Muscle and Bone Forging Technique, so there was no need to do it again.

Knight training wasn’t suitable for the bedroom, so he would do some research.

Lilith’s rune materials weren’t ready yet and would take a little more time.

What else was worth researching on the knight side?

The Demonic Wolf Fist Art.

Little Weir finally remembered something he hadn’t finished: the imitation and modification of the Demonic Wolf Fist Art.

This work was not easy, and it just so happened that his mental power was extremely abundant right now, allowing him to analyze this set of fist techniques.

Demonic wolves were the totems and guardian magical beasts of the werewolf tribe among the beastmen.

They were ferocious, cunning, and often lived in packs.

Rather than being the guardian magical beasts of the werewolf tribe, it was more accurate to say that they often regarded the werewolves as their exclusive prey and backup food.

The werewolf tribe maintained offerings to the demonic wolves, which included the flesh and blood of wild beasts, magical beasts, and captives.

If the offerings were insufficient, they would even sacrifice their own tribesmen to the demonic wolves.

The moves in the Demonic Wolf Fist Art carried a hint of madness and hysteria, and the training methods were extremely cruel.

After Little Weir went through it once completely, he turned back to reorganize it, extracting the core parts.

Although scattered and incomplete, the core was largely preserved.

Then, he gradually refilled the cultivation methods and fist techniques into it, restoring it to a complete set of the Demonic Wolf Fist Art.

When the Demonic Wolf Fist Art was almost restored, Little Weir began to continuously delete parts that severely conflicted with human physique and thought.

He ended up deleting nearly seventy percent, almost turning the entire fist art into waste (waste).

Then, he reassembled the remaining parts and made appropriate repairs.

This process required a considerable amount of mental effort, but for some reason, Little Weir’s thoughts were gushing like a spring at this moment; he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Two hours passed, and the first edition of the “Imitation Demonic Wolf Fist Art” was completed.

“Ding~, the Apostle has modified and created the “Imitation Demonic Wolf Fist Art.” It has been recorded, and you have received two hundred contribution points.

Please continue your efforts, Apostle.”

The voice of the proxy spirit appeared promptly, seemingly wanting to remind Little Weir of her existence.

“The first edition of the “Imitation Demonic Wolf Fist Art” has sixty-eight errors.

Does the Apostle wish to spend contribution points to improve and perfect it?

Improvement and perfection require five hundred contribution points.”

“Hey, Little Wei, I’ve contributed so many books, you must have read them all, right?

Putting aside the omnipotence of the great deity, purely based on your own ability, can you point out the errors?

No need to improve or perfect, just point out the errors.

Can you do that?”

Little Weir didn’t rush to make changes; instead, he started chatting with the proxy spirit.

“Hmph, hmph, Apostle, you underestimate me.

As a proxy spirit, I do have basic analytical abilities.

However, due to the rules, spirits cannot actively provide such services to Apostles.”

Little Wei, the proxy spirit, responded to him very haughtily.

“Ten contribution points.

Help me mark all the errors.

You don’t need to modify them, just mark them, and then I’ll modify them myself.

Later, you can review it for me, and you’ll get contribution points again.”

Little Weir began to entice this adorable and haughty little spirit.

“Twenty contribution points.”

The proxy spirit immediately began to bargain.

“Let’s meet halfway, fifteen contribution points per session.

You know, this is a long-term process and can’t be completed in one go.

There might be three, five, or even ten or eight iterations.

As long as it’s not perfect once, you’ll receive contribution points, you know.”

Little Weir’s words swayed the proxy spirit, who immediately agreed to the deal.

Little Weir was indeed a genius, but his experience was still too shallow, and his accumulation in cultivation was not as rich as imagined.

The good things he had brought out several times before were, without exception, due to the God of Wisdom.

The first version had sixty-eight errors, the second version had thirty-two errors, the third version had nineteen errors, the fourth version had eleven errors, and the fifth version had four errors.

Then Little Weir felt somewhat at a loss with the last four errors.

Perhaps imperfection was better.

Looking at the slightly messy revisions in his notebook and the places marked as potentially problematic but for which he couldn’t find solutions, Little Weir felt a sense of accomplishment.