Leveling up the World

A single day was enough to completely transform Dallion’s training regimen. If before he was forbidden from joining a vast majority of classes, obtaining the Moonstone granted him access to all of them, even those reserved for prodigies like Cheska. Ironically, the vast choice combined with Katka’s lessons forced him to pick only one additional subject—Echo Training. All the other time was spent in the library learning new magic symbols and spell combinations so he could get out of the Academy sooner. Occasionally, he’d spend some time on potion training and enchanting, though those were rather a means to clear his mind after a long day of remembering spells.

Katka’s training started a lot more boring than Dallion expected. Rather than jump right to spell principles, she gave him the simple but annoying task to extend his inner magic starting from one hand to the next while stretching both arms sideways. Initially, Dallion thought he had merely to grab his magic and pull it like a rubber band. As he was quickly corrected the roam was to do all that with his mind alone—a rather tricky task even for the nymph’s method of casting. On the third day, he finally started making some progress. The miniature threads no longer exploded like clusters of spaghetti, but obeyed Dallion’s mental commands twisting around each other to form a small rope of magic.

“Finally getting the hang of it?” Katka asked. The woman seemed to take great pleasure in Dallion’s failure, to the point one might think that was the sole reason for her accepting this deal. “Did I tell you how I came up with that method?”

“One of the others told you?” Dallion asked. His reaction distracted him slightly, but enough to unravel the few inches of “rope” he had managed to create.

“Those idiots?” Katka laughed. “Some of them are good, but not in this field. This is entirely my contribution. Even the bitch got to compliment me.”

The mage never mentioned any names outright, but Dallion suspected that in this case she might be referring to the woman who had been supporting Gassil. The rogue mage’s memory fragment hadn’t revealed her face, but it didn’t sound like there were many females in the group.

Droplets of sweat trickled down his face. Gritting his teeth, Dallion tried to reconstruct the rope, but the effort proved too much. The threads were already starting to go their own directions, rebelling to his commands.

“I was bored listening to my instructor, so I decided to play about in my realm. Making symbols had always been a pain, so I decided to do something else just for the sake of it. That’s when I achieved this.”

Dallion’s heart was beating like a drum. The “simple” exercise had a way of exhausting him to the extreme with his glacial pace of progress. He made one final attempt to maintain control of his threads, then finally pulled them back.

“Not even two hours?” Katka asked mockingly. “You’re really slow.”

Wiping the sweat off his face, Dallion sat on the floor to catch his breath.

“We have chairs,” Katka said.

Dallion didn’t respond. At first, he thought she was mocking him. There was only one chair, and she was sitting on it. Then he realized: they were mages—they could make chairs. Pushing through the pain, he did just that.

“I hear you’ll be starting echo training tomorrow,” the mage said. “Curious choice. Why’d you make it?”

“Is it important?”

“I’m doing you a favor, so yes.” Her tone hardened. “Why did you choose a useless discipline?”

There was nothing Dallion could do but comply. While this was far from a favor, Katka could end their deal under any pretext.

“The principles will apply on familiars,” Dallion said.

“Interesting. You have a lot of those. Yeah, I see that being a good one for you. Good choice. Then again, you’re from Earth.”

“So what?”

“Spellcraft doesn’t follow the standard rules. You don’t get punished for experimenting here. If anything experimentation is encouraged as long as you bear the consequences of your messes. We’re given principles that determine the laws of the universe. Since we’re from Earth we’ve meddled with a lot more so we’re not afraid to see how our principles apply. The locals,” she let out a disapproving snort, “they rely on books. Sure it’s great for the initial foundation, but otherwise useless. For example, why don’t more people use nymph casting? You’ve seen the advantage it provides.”

“Because they don’t know any nymphs?”

“They know you. How many have you asked for tips?”

Thinking back, Dallion had to admit she was right. While he had received lots of praise and envy, not a single person had gone as far as to ask him any practical advice.

“My trick is similar,” Katka said. “Think computers. What do you prefer? A standalone powerful one, or one that allows multi-threading.”

Dallion winced. “Multi-threading?” She must have felt really proud when she first thought of applying for that term.

“The way you’re going it’ll take you weeks to be able to use it. When you do, though, you’ll see the difference.”

“And you can’t tell me because I have to know it before I can discuss it,” Dallion said.

“No,” Katka laughed. “If I tell you, you’ll mess it up even more. Anyway, time for you to get back to—”

“How’s the war going?” Dallion interrupted. “The truth.”

“The truth?” The mage arched her brows. “You’ve acquired a taste for luxuries already? What have you heard?”

“The empire’s losing the north, and the south is losing itself.”

“I won’t repeat that in the future. But yes, it’s about right. It’s how this world works. The big form alliances while the small fight on their behalf. An archduke’s been messing up more than permissible, but that’s what you get with direct succession. Just because someone can become a noble, doesn’t mean he’s fit for it.”

“Wasn’t the whole point of awakening to determine who’s fit and who not?”

“Nope. If you want philosophy, I can arrange for you to listen to old goats discussing useless topics twenty hours a day and unanimously coming to no conclusions. Awakening gates are meant to stop those who can’t handle it. However, there are many ways for someone to cheat. Take you. You were never meant to become a mage, yet here you are.”

“That’s different.” I had to fight a Star to get here.

“It’s always different. Echoes are just helping hands, right? So, what if an archduke’s heir gets the echoes of ten thousand skilled mercenaries in his realm? Technically it’s still them that did it.”

As much as Dallion appreciated the sentiment, he could tell that Katka had no idea what she was talking about. After a certain point echoes no longer mattered. If he had to guess she was still in her thirties level-wise. Not that it mattered. Her magic trait was a lot higher than that, and that was the only thing that mattered.

“Will the Academy get involved?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I know that talks are ongoing, but Alien’s been tightlipped about it. I don’t care either way. It wouldn’t be the first time we’re ordered to destroy an attacker and it won’t be the first to sit the whole thing out.”

That didn’t sound right. Katka was supposed to be old enough to witness the Fury invasion attempt. Either she didn’t care or had been safely isolated at the Academy while more experienced mages were taking part in the fight. Alien would definitely know what was going on, but Dallion preferred to stay away from him, at least for the moment.

“Are there any exercises that will help me get better at this?”

“Just sleep,” the mage replied. “Real sleep, not that fake realm stuff hunters like to do.”

That’s absurd, Nil commented. As far as magic is concerned, there’s no difference whatsoever. Besides it’s not like you haven’t been getting any since you came here.

“Sleep,” Dallion repeated. “Got it.”

Dallion spent several more minutes to be sure he could move his arms, then left Katka’s office-house, starting the long walk to his room. No one stopped him along the corridor, even if it was way past the novice curfew time. The achievement had granted him a series of pleasant perks, chief among which the right to walk about at all times of the day and night. Of course, Dallion only used it to go to and from Katka. Nil had advised him not to stir things too much and act as a normal novice, as if that would be possible.

The first, and last thing, Dallion did upon returning to his room was collapse on the bed, clothes still on. Waves of exhaustion kicked. One moment Dallion was telling himself he’d have to kick I up a gear if he wanted to make any progress, the next Gem was pulling his nose in an attempt to wake him up.

What the heck? Dallion burst into instances. Several of them grabbed his harpsisword, a few others picked up the armadil shield, expecting an attack.

“Gem?” Dallion asked in his unarmed instance. “What are you doing?”

The mage told me that you need to wake up because you have an important meeting, the aetherfish replied.

It took several seconds for Dallion to decipher the sentence. The mage turned out to be Nil, the meeting was Dallion’s class, and the pulling of the nose was Gem’s attempt of waking someone up. A for effort, but other than that, Dallion would have preferred another hour of sleep. Still, what was done was done. Letting the needless instances fade away, he stretched, did some light exercises, then went to get washed with a chunk of water.

Done, Dallion cast a few minor spells covering his clothes with glamor, then went to the dining hall for breakfast. He was hoping to come across some of the other four of his former alliance, but none of them were present. Instead, he had to deal with pretty much everyone else, who were split between keeping their distance and eagerly wanting to chat.

The cost of popularity, Dallion thought. Now he understood why Cheska behaved the way she did. Being known as unapproachable tended to keep people away. Dallion had gotten relatively calm thanks to Phoil and his antics. Now that was gone, leaving the path open to anyone wanting to become friends with one of the “popular kids.”

It was very tempting for Dallion to use combat splitting to make his escape, but that was unlikely to be of benefit. Instead, he patiently finished his breakfast, stood up and went to class, where the first surprise of the day awaited him.

“Hey, Dal.” A fury greeted him in the empty room. “Well done with the trial.”

“Palag?” Dallion asked. “I thought—”

“There’s been a change. I’ll have to take over this class. Since it’s one of the theoretical subjects I qualify.”

Great, Dallion thought. “Where’s everyone else?”

“It’s a one week course,” the instructor explained. “Everyone who wanted to be here has been. Now that you’re no longer restricted, you get to experience the joys of academia.”

“I think it has some practical applications…”

“Oh, I agree, but not everyone is like you. Tell me, how many companions do you have?”

“Five,” Dallion said without thinking. “Three,” he corrected himself soon after.

“That’s a big change.”

“One’s gone and one’s in the real world,” Dallion said quickly, wanting to move on from the topic.

The fury must have gotten the hint, for he nodded.

“There’s plenty more than most get to experience. Even I have only two.”

“Two? What are they?”

“Now, now.” The fury laughed. “Familiars aren’t something that should be discussed openly. In your case, though, it’s inevitable. You make rather good use of them so it’s natural that people would notice. If you make any more companions, though, I’d strongly suggest that you keep them hidden for as long as possible.”

“Understood.”

“Alright, so let’s get to learning.”

The fury drew several spell circles in the air. Once complete an outline of a miniature dragon appeared surrounded on all sides by dozens of purple rectangles.