My Supernatural Girlfriends Spoils Me Rotten - Chapter 242

Chapter 242: A Dangerous Place Part 8
“Does this mean that I can create a fully independent consciousness using these cores?”

(Yes, but it requires more in-depth knowledge and time,) Pantheon explained.

(For now, you can only make minor alterations to the core, enough to use it as a medium for control. )

(I’ll share you the spell required. It will guide you through the process.)

Asher nodded, absorbing the information. It wasn’t the full independence he had imagined, but it was a step in the right direction.

It didn’t take long for him to grasp the underlying logic of the spell.

The structure made sense once he focused on it, the layers of magic and energy falling into place.

Drawing on his knowledge of dragon language, he reached into his space bag and pulled out a red orb, its surface warm to the touch.

This particular orb came from a fire dragon, its fiery essence still pulsing faintly inside.

As he held it, he began etching the runes and symbols into the orb with his finger, using precise movements.

The runes formed as he worked, glowing faintly as they sank into the orb’s surface.

What he was doing now resembled something more familiar—a programmer typing a set of code, each symbol a command for the orb to follow.

He was essentially directing the “software” of the orb, programming it to behave in a way that aligned with his will.

And by carving these runes, he was ensuring that the core would function exactly as he needed it to.

‘Done,’ he sighed in relief, stepping back and double-checking his work.

Every rune, every symbol was precisely etched, the energy within the orb humming softly in response.

Pantheon, too, examined it. (Impressive.)

Asher’s talent to grasp complex concepts and apply them swiftly never ceased to amaze the ancient dragon.

It was as if the boy could absorb knowledge effortlessly, applying it in ways that seemed almost instinctual.

If he continued on this path, Pantheon knew there was no limit to how powerful he could become.

Perhaps that was why the ancient dragon felt so compelled to guide him.

In all its years, Pantheon saw countless beings rise and fall, each gifted with power and talent—but none like Asher.

There was something different about him, something that hinted at a potential never before seen.

The dragon just hoped that this potential and power wouldn’t be misused, like it was by those who, intoxicated by their own abilities, eventually became corrupted.

“Now I just need to put my energy into it,”

He held the core carefully in his hands, focusing on channeling his power into it.

The orb vibrated slightly at first, then began to glow as he fed it more and more of his energy.

He steadily increased the flow, watching the core react. 10%, 20%, 30%, 40%, 50%, 60%…

With each increase, the glow intensified, the core humming with energy.

But as he pushed it past 60%, the orb started to tremble, its surface crackling with tiny sparks.

At that moment, he paused, his instincts telling him to stop before things went too far.

Asher turned his gaze toward the puppet. He carefully held the core in front of it, aligning it with the chest cavity.

With a casual push, he drove it into the body.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the puppet’s body began to vibrate, a low hum filling the air as it adjusted to the influx of new energy.

The effect of using a fire-related core was immediate.

A faint glow of reddish-orange flickered beneath it’s skin, especially around the chest, where the core now resided.

As the energy settled, he took a deep breath, focusing his thoughts.

“Let’s see how it handles being controlled,”

Closing his eyes and focusing. He reached out mentally, activating the runes.

Magic within the core responded to his will, and he felt the subtle connection tighten. Its movements began to sync with his thoughts, though not perfectly.

The reaction time was also slower than his own body, and the motions felt more mechanical, like it was processing each action before responding.

Still, it was more than enough for what he needed.

Next, he tested its ability to cast a spell.

He focused, guiding the puppet through the process. It’s mouth moved, repeating the incantation he whispered to it.

As the words took shape, the magic responded, and a veil of shadow began to form.

Seeing that there were no issues with the first spell, he decided to push it further. He guided it to cast additional concealment spells, layering them one after another.

Once satisfied with the increased cover, he mentally directed the puppet to return to the entrance.

It reached the edge of the maw without being noticed. With its weaker energy signature, it was even harder to detect than Asher himself.

It stepped inside, and for a moment, Asher’s vision darkened.

A brief delay—just a few seconds—before his sight returned, revealing the other side.

Directly ahead stood the entrance to the tower. Surrounding it was a garden of dark red roses that pulsed with an eerie glow.

Their petals, much like the wall itself, looked like congealed blood, giving the place a sinister feel.

Focusing back on the view ahead, Asher saw the tower standing tall. Its base was thick and strong, like an ancient fortress, but as it rose higher, it grew thinner like a pyramid.

Thick, dark veins covered the surface, twisting around the walls like muscles under the skin.

They pulsed faintly, glowing with a deep red light that seeped into the cracks of the tower. It looked alive, as if something was breathing beneath the stone.

Large red crystal windows jutted out from the walls. Their jagged edges caught the dim light from inside, making eerie reflections dance across it.

“I’m close.” He clenched his fist, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

The thought of finally confronting Lucy—of learning the truth—made his heart race.

His next move would depend entirely on her answer.