In the deepest part of the Small Fang Tribe, in front of an old wooden house—
Several large ceramic vats stood neatly outside the house. One was filled with live, plump fish that writhed gently. Another emitted a strange herbal odor, its contents soaked in swamp water. A third was filled with rough, multicolored stones that glimmered faintly in the dim light.
Minori's gaze swept over the surroundings, finally resting on the vat of stones. "What's this?"
"Yan ore," the old lizardman priest replied with dull eyes, standing barefoot on the wet wooden steps. "Crushed and mixed with fish oils, it's used to paint tribal totems and war marks."
"Does it have any magical effects?" Minori bent down, scrutinizing the oddly-colored stones.
"None," the old priest answered bluntly.
Minori didn't press further. After glancing once more at the old house's moss-covered pillars and vine-draped walls, he followed the priest inside.
The structure was lifted off the ground by thick wooden stilts—a typical design among amphibious lizardmen to avoid flooding. The upper floor served as the living area.
As soon as he stepped inside, a pungent, rotting stench assaulted him.
"Odorless."
A soft light flickered as Minori waved his hand. The air stirred. Then again—"Odorless."
The stale odor dissipated.
The interior was crude. No furniture, only trinkets—necklaces of bone, shields of shell, all hanging from the walls. Decorations made for ritual rather than practicality.
But Minori's attention was soon drawn to a shelf at the far end, filled with dozens of scrolls made from some kind of preserved animal hide.
"Is this the collected knowledge of your tribe?" he asked, his voice low.
The old priest nodded slowly. "Guarded by the Elder Council. I am the last."
Minori stepped forward, picking up one scroll. Strange, claw-like glyphs of the lizardman language covered it in dense lines. They resembled chaotic scratches more than structured script.
He frowned.
"Bring me the scrolls related to magic. All of them. Summarize them as you go."
He had no time to decipher them through "Interpretation Magic"—especially when the caster was standing right there. Even Master Belori of the Imperial Academy had warned him: interpretation spells could only provide a surface-level understanding of unfamiliar languages, and were not reliable for advanced study.
Soon, six scrolls were laid before him.
The old priest began explaining.
One scroll discussed medicinal herbs—their mixtures, when to pick them, how to ferment roots for healing tonics.
Another described weather divination—a mix of observing swamp fog, frog croaks, and the colors of sunrise.
Yet another included faith-based magic—mostly low-tier healing and minor blessings.
There was even a scroll explaining how to breed fish in shallow lakes.
To Minori, half of these wouldn't be called magic at all. They were empirical traditions—practical but unremarkable.
Still, he listened.
The faith magic was what he expected: auxiliary magic, barely scraping Tier 2.
He sighed. "No wonder the tribe is so weak."
Then came the final scroll.
"This… details a form of magical enhancement," the priest said, unrolling the hide. " It requires more magic power and can forcibly activate high-level magic that was originally unusable."
Minori's eyes sharpened.
"Go on."
The priest nodded slowly. "With a ritual—called the Rising—it's possible to leap a magic tier. Without it, only one rank. With it, two." He paused, voice dull. "Too costly. Only for desperate times."
The term magic enhancement triggered something in Minori's memory.
He straightened, his expression becoming serious.
This wasn't like simple Enhancement Magic, which boosted attributes like agility or strength.
This was Magic Enhancement—a strengthening of the spell itself. The kind used to cast dual or triple-tier spells, maximize effect range, or even raise a spell's tier altogether.
In YGGDRASIL, very few players could use such abilities. Professions like Mystic Disciple or Apostle of S'lshana were designed specifically for that.
Could this be a degraded, native version?
"Tell me exactly how it works. Don't skip anything."
The priest droned on.
As Minori listened, he began to draw parallels.
In canon, Ainz had used Magic Rank Up to elevate even a Tier 1 spell like Magic Arrow into a deadly threat. That ability allowed a spell to be cast at a higher rank without prior learning or proper class prerequisites.
But this tribal version—the so-called "Magic Rise"—required rituals, sacrifices, and consumed tremendous mana. It could force out a spell one or two tiers higher than normally possible, but with serious limits.
Still… it was not simply upgrading the power of a known spell.
It allowed a caster to use spells they had not yet learned.
That… was different.
"Magic Rise... so this lets someone bypass the need to actually know the spell?"
The priest nodded solemnly.
Minori's heart pounded lightly. "Then the summoning ritual I saw in my memory… the one where the lizardmen summoned mixed-element spirits… that must have been this."
He remembered now.
The five priests of the lizardmen had once gathered, performing a ritual to summon an Elemental Spirit of the Swamp. That spell was beyond what any one of them could cast alone.
They had forced it—through this primitive but functional Magic Rise.
Minori folded his arms, deep in thought.
If he could refine this technique, integrate it with his own magic system… perhaps even extract a scroll-making formula based on it…
Then the potential was enormous.
"Can you perform Magic Rise?" Minori asked finally, narrowing his eyes.