Former Ranker's Newbie Life-Chapter 31

The wall was far too thick to simply blow up or burn through. The sheer mass of stone meant that melting it with raw heat alone would be a complete waste of effort. Instead, Do-Jin decided to use Liquefaction, a spell specialized for dissolving rock and metal.

The problem was that Liquefaction was a Tier 5 spell. For most players, this would be a complete roadblock. Even with his broken-ass class, Grimoire of Truth, which let him cheat past a lot of learning requirements, Do-Jin was still restricted by his level.

The bare minimum requirement to learn a Tier 5 spell was Level 100, while he was only 43. It was an enormous mountain of a gap, but he did have one way around the problem. Without hesitation, he sold off everything he could.

If I was broke, this wouldn’t even be an option. But with this much money... it might just work.

The high-priced Curse of Softening skill books, the mountain of materials and equipment he had hoarded, and anything else that could be traded for gold all went straight to the marketplace. When he was finished, his total funds came to 17,800 Gold. Even converted to cash, it was worth over 17 million won.

For a brief moment, he stared at the number in his inventory with the same wistful, dead-eyed look as a salaryman checking his bank account on payday. He knew exactly what was about to happen to this money. It was going to vanish into thin air, just like the hard-earned wages of a working-class citizen briefly passing through their hands before getting swallowed by rent, bills, and taxes.

This is an investment toward faster leveling, he tried convincing himself.

Money could always be earned back later. Besides, Do-Jin had already decided that, in this life, he was going to reach the top. Hesitation was for casuals.

“It’s just a temporary goodbye... It’s not like I’ll never see you again.”

Five hours later, Do-Jin’s remaining balance had dropped to 1,200 Gold.

***

Inside a private magic workshop, rented from the local Adventurers’ Guild for an obscene amount of money, an array of rare and expensive materials was carefully arranged on the table.

There was the leather and blood of a mutant frilled lizard, magically liquefied gold and silver, spell-grade charcoal, and mana-infused gemstones. They were all the kind of item that would make normal players cry over the price tag, but Do-Jin had bought them in bulk to attempt the impossible: creating a Tier 5 Liquefaction spell.

A Tier 3 mage attempting to create a Tier 5 spell scroll has roughly a 1% success rate, but if I try 150 times, one of them’s gotta work...

The odds were absolutely abysmal. Even if he somehow managed to pull it off, the resulting scroll wouldn’t be as powerful as a real Tier 5 spell, though that was a problem for later. Right now, all he needed was one scroll that actually worked. No sane player would even attempt this, but for him, it was a gamble worth taking. It didn’t need to match the real deal; it just had to melt through that damn wall.

“Alright, let’s get this started.”

As always, the thrill of gambling made his heart race. A mixture of anxiety and anticipation coiled around him, sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins. Excitement and recklessness were a dangerous combination. No matter how much his heart pounded, he had to keep his head cool. If he wanted to maximize his odds, he had to execute this perfectly.

Taking a steady breath, Do-Jin ran through the entire crafting process in his head, every step ingrained in his muscle memory. Then, he activated Grimoire of Truth. There was no guarantee that opening the grimoire would increase his crafting success rate, but he believed in it.

If there was any magical artifact in the world that could help with this process, it would be the supercomputer of the magic world, buried deep within Elthomagia’s endless archives.

A golden shimmer flickered across his fingertips as he laid down the monster hide, the base material for the scroll. It belonged to some distant cousin of a dragon’s half-brother, or whatever the hell taxonomy the system used. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Next, he picked up spell-grade charcoal. It was time to sketch the foundation of the Magic Circle. This was a one-shot process, and a single slip of the hand would ruin the entire thing. With absolute focus, Do-Jin sketched the initial layout in one smooth motion, making sure to never lift the charcoal from the surface until it was complete.

Moving quickly, he began preparing the next set of materials. He ground a mana stone into fine powder, then mixed it with alchemically treated liquid gold and silver before it could begin destabilizing. Stirring at a precise speed, he created a magical ink infused with pure mana. Carefully, he painted over the charcoal sketch, turning it into a fully activated Magic Circle.

Do-Jin let out a slow breath. Now came the most crucial step, and the most likely point of failure. He had to inject mana into the scroll to activate it. This was where most people failed.

He placed various mana stones onto a special scale, not to measure weight but mana output. By adjusting the combination of larger and smaller stones, he carefully calibrated the exact amount of mana needed. Once the perfect balance had been achieved, he placed the primary mana stone at the center of the Magic Circle.

Finally, the real crafting process began. Everything he had done so far was just setup, not only prepping the materials but also making sure the base was stable to increase the chances of success. Now, it was time to see if this gamble would pay off.

Taking a deep breath, Do-Jin opened his Magic Circuits and recalled the precise structure of the Liquefaction spell from memory. Since it was a spell far beyond his level, there was no system assistance. He had to complete the spell entirely on his own.

The mana stone reacted immediately. The Magic Circle flickered to life, and tiny droplets of liquefied gold and silver bounced within the ink. He had to guide the mana with absolute precision. Suddenly, a sharp pulse of energy shot through his circuits, like a blood vessel bursting under pressure.

CRACK.

“Fuck!”

His body jerked back as mana backlash surged through him with a burning, unstable force twisting inside his veins. Without hesitation, Do-Jin shut down his circuits and pulled away. The moment he did, the emergency safety mechanisms in the workshop activated, sealing off the energy. The unstable mana burned away uselessly and eventually dispersed.

Although the workshop’s safety mechanisms had done their job, the damage had already been done with the materials having melted into a charred, tar-like mess.

“Goddamn it...”

Do-Jin had known from the start that a 1% success rate was never going to work on the first try, but logic and emotions rarely saw eye to eye. Watching that money go up in smoke in mere seconds still hurt.

[Your crafting ability is severely lacking!]

[A completely predictable and inevitable failure!]

[Do not overestimate your skills!]

[Crafting attempt failed. All materials have been destroyed.]

Is this system fucking mocking me?

Do-Jin glared at the notification, then at the black, sticky remains that had once been valuable materials, his stomach churning. With an irritated flick, he dismissed the system messages, took a deep breath, and prepared for another attempt.

Losing focus will only make things worse. If I want to increase my odds of success, I need to stay calm.

And so, he poured everything he had into the next attempt. The failures kept piling up, burning through his resources at an exponential rate, not to mention his time, money, stamina, and mental energy.

***

[Reckless Decisions Lead to Reckless Outcomes!]

Do-Jin slammed his fist onto the table before the system messages even finished appearing.

“This is fucking bullshit! If I’ve tried this 130 times with a 1% success rate, I should’ve landed at least one by now!”

In reality, however, each attempt was independent of each other. Whether it was a hundred or a thousand attempts, the odds of success weren’t guaranteed by the statistics. Despite knowing that, it didn’t help when he was watching hundreds of thousands of won in materials turn into burnt garbage.

Worst of all, this wasn’t some simple gamble where one pressed a button and waited for the result. Every single attempt required painstaking effort to draw, engrave, mix, and stabilize, all while sweating bullets from the sheer concentration it took. The stress was real.

“How many do I have left now...? Twenty tries?”

Back when he had 150 attempts, it had felt like more than enough. Now that he was down to twenty, a cold, creeping anxiety started to settle in.

Do-Jin stared at the soft golden shimmer emanating from his Grimoire of Truth. Was it really useless? Had he wasted all those mana potions, trying to sustain himself through this endless grind? Doubt clawed at his mind. But he had already burned too many bridges to back out now.

“Fuck it. Might as well go all in. This isn’t the first time I’ve lit money on fire for some dumbass gamble,” he muttered under his breath. “If I lose everything, I’ll just grind even harder and make it all back.”

Do-Jin gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He threw himself back into the process, this time with even more desperation and focus than before.

One attempt became two, then three, then six. More failures piled up, but he remained silent. He just drew, crushed, mixed, and redrew. Over and over, he repeated the painstaking process, forcing himself to go through the entire ritual with absolute precision.

As he finally finished another attempt, the strain of maxing out his concentration making his head spin, something different happened.

[You have repeatedly challenged an advanced field of magic beyond comprehension.]

[A true mage finds their path through reckless persistence.]

[Unwavering focus and borderline obsession!]

[Your understanding of magic has slightly deepened!]

[Your ability to interpret recorded spells has slightly improved.]

The mana floating around him intensified, glowing brighter than before. The Grimoire of Truth rippled, forming new text before his eyes. His understanding of magic itself had improved, giving him a permanent bonus to spell analysis.

The moment he saw that message, a shiver ran down his spine and his instincts screamed at him.

[Unbelievable success!]

[Through sheer obsession, you have inscribed a spell far beyond your limits onto a scroll!]

[Intelligence +3]

[Stamina +1]

Just as he expected, a success notification popped up.

“FUCK YEAAAAH!” Do-Jin let out a guttural scream.

Rather than joy, it was the soul-crushing relief that all his lost resources, money, and effort had not been in vain. Out of the 150 attempts he had prepared for, he had succeeded on his 147th try. Only three sets of materials remained. He looked down at the Liquefaction spell scroll, now clutched in his hands.

“Figures... it’s a bit damaged.”

Since he was not skilled enough to perfectly control the ritual, the inscribed Magic Circle had a few weak spots. Nearly half the infused mana was lost, but he didn’t care. It had worked. He finally had a scroll that would melt the goddamn wall.

On top of that, his increased understanding of magic meant that every spell he recorded would now be easier to master, speeding up his progress even further. Having secured both his goal and an unexpected power-up, Do-Jin checked the time.

Only seven hours remained until his meeting, which meant he had spent over thirty hours locked in this workshop, burning through materials and grinding out scrolls. Since gathering the ingredients had not taken a full day, that meant he had been at this nonstop, with zero rest.

“Five hours won’t be enough to properly recover... I should just use sleep mode and rest here.”

It was pathetic, but there was no helping it. Once he melted the wall and pushed deeper into the dungeon, the battles would become brutal. If he had any chance to rest, he needed to take it now. The moment he allowed himself to relax, exhaustion hit him like a truck. Both his in-game avatar and his real body were crushed under the weight of sheer fatigue.

The rental fee for the workshop will keep running, but... fuck it, I can’t move.

With a slow, heavy exhale, Do-Jin slumped against the wall and let himself sink to the ground. Even as sleep took him, his fingers remained tightly wrapped around the spell scroll he had sacrificed everything to create.