My Supernatural Girlfriends Spoils Me Rotten - Chapter 241

Chapter 241: A Dangerous Place Part 7
Asher paused on the rooftop, eyes fixed on the massive maw of the living wall. No matter how much he told himself it was safe, the gooey dark substance made him doubt.

He weighed his options before making a decision.

Then an idea came to him, partly inspired by what he saw in the pub before arriving here.

“I’m making a clone. It’ll use its own stealth spell and go through the maw first to check for traps. Since I can share its senses, I’ll see everything without putting myself at risk,”

Pantheon’s deep, rumbling voice responded with approval.

(That is the wisest move,)

Asher nodded to himself. The adjustment wouldn’t be too difficult. His clone was fundamentally made of his own energy, so he could channel more power into it, making it combat-ready if the need arose.

Seeing how close they were to the eerie wall, he decided to find a safer spot first.

A secret place was needed where no one would detect him while casting the spell.

His eyes scanned the area, and soon he spotted an abandoned building in the distance.

It was in ruins, untouched by renovations, and had no visible runes etched into its walls.

‘Perfect.’

It would provide the cover he needed for his temporary base.

With a quick glance to make sure no one was nearby, he made his way toward the building.

As he approached the dilapidated building, the ground beneath his boots crunched after he landed, each step disturbing the layers of dirt and dust that had settled in the corners.

The air smelled of damp stone, and the faint hum of distant wind echoed through the broken windows.

He picked a room that offered some cover, then began casting a series of spells.

First, he created a barrier to cancel out noise, making sure any sound he made would remain contained.

Next, he layered in a vibration dampening spell, ensuring that his movements wouldn’t give him away.

Finally, he added a fluctuation seal, stabilizing the air around him so that any disturbances would go unnoticed.

With the room secured, he took a deep breath, knowing he could now focus entirely on the task ahead.

(I’m really impressed by how many spells you know. You said that Index taught you all of this?)

“Index didn’t teach me everything,” He smiled faintly.

“But she showed me a lot. The rest, I experimented using already existing theory from her”

(Interesting. Makes me wonder how someone who claims to be trapped in that place with no memories could have access to all that knowledge.)

Asher paused, already knowing what Pantheon was hinting at.

“Please, I don’t want to argue about that. Let’s focus on one thing at a time first.”

The ancient dragon remained silent. As long as it had planted a seed of doubt in Asher’s mind, making him more wary of Index, it had accomplished its goal.

Both of them were linked, and if Asher ventured into the void, Pantheon would have to follow, bound by their connection.

Asher focused on the spell. A series of precise gestures and whispered words rippled in the cool night air.

Gradually, the energy around him began to take form, coalescing into a figure. At first, it was nothing more than a faint outline, a shimmering silhouette that seemed to flicker with every passing moment.

But with each word, with each movement of his hands, the shape solidified, becoming more distinct.

A perfect copy of him, down to the smallest detail—his posture, his expression, the glint of light in his eyes.

The clone stood before him, its presence solid and real, but he could still feel the difference. It wasn’t really him; it was a vessel made of his energy, waiting to be controlled.

Though he already achieved a lot with his magic—able to form and control countless orbs of energy—putting consciousness into a clone was still a far cry for him.

It took more than just skill; it required a level of precision and control he couldn’t fully master yet. That’s why he was so amused by Baelthorn’s ability.

The demon king seemed to do it effortlessly, crafting clones with true independence, each one acting on its own.

Shaking the thoughts away, Asher began walking around his clone, or rather, his puppet. This was different from what he used back on Eryx. Those were more like simple kites—magic constructs he could send off and let fly in random directions.

‘I should make some adjustments and add a portable core,’ he muttered to himself.

It was an idea that could make it more capable—allowing it to cast more powerful spells and sustain itself longer, like adding a battery.

“But making a core is easier said than done,” he mused aloud.

The reason for this was complex— a core was directly tied to the soul.

That was how he could transform into a swarm of golden butterflies and reassemble himself, how his essence could break down and reform.

It wasn’t just magic; it was a metaphysical state, one that allowed him to exist beyond physical boundaries. Much like how Yuki could walk through walls.

But creating a core for the clone, something that could hold and sustain its essence without being tied to his own soul, would take far more effort and precision.

(Use a dragon core,) Pantheon suggested.

“What do you mean?” Asher raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Dozens of dragon cores filled his space bag, gathered after ransacking Julius’ treasury. He always thought of them only as a power source for teleportation or for crafting powerful magic items.

(Those dragon cores might not be from an ancient dragon like me, but they’re still dragons,)

(Even though they no longer possess complete consciousness, the broken souls of the dragons remain in them. Those remnants are more than just energy—they hold a fragment of the dragon’s power, its essence, its will. With magic, you could manipulate and alter these fragments.)

Asher’s mind raced as Pantheon spoke. The concept fascinated him.