Chương 64: Chapter 59: It’s not a technicality if it’s in the rules

"So you're going to stay for the next three months?" Fabrisse asked before shoving the last piece of pie into his half-stuffed mouth. He balanced his pie tin on one knee, while Tommaso sat cross-legged beside him, absently rolling sparks between his fingers.

"Yeah," Tommaso said. He wasn't eating any pie. He didn't even like pie. Traitorous friend he was. They were slouched in their usual spot, a maintenance balcony halfway up the east tower, with the glowvines of the atrium visible through the railing below. Almost nobody came up here. The main stairs stopped one floor below, leaving a cramped service stair for anyone who actually wanted to reach the balcony. Dust had gathered along the edges where no one bothered sweeping.

There were two old chairs up here, one wooden and one upholstered, and a dead sigil-console shoved against the wall. Fabrisse had no idea who had brought them up. Most likely Tom. Fabrisse claimed the sturdier chair as he asked, "Are you guys even allowed to take a vacation that long?"

"I still have work to do. There have been bizarre fire resonance phenomena inside the Synod, and I've been sent back to have a closer look."

"What phenomenon?"

"That's classified," Tommaso gave him a toothy grin.

"Oh. You're keeping secrets now that you're a magus?"

"Speaking of secrets, I should be asking you." Tom nudged him with his elbow.

"The Chosen One, huh? What's your ultimate spell, dude? I know you can conjure an entire ballroom full of illusory chickens now. Spill it."

"Well... I have this one." He took out a Stupenstone from his satchel.

"Turn around." Tommaso chuckled and obliged. Fabrisse raised the Stupenstone, muttered a few choice syllables under his breath—most of which probably weren't magical—and released the spell. A bolt of shimmering force zipped through the air. And he missed. The spell zipped past the pot, just grazing the wall behind it with a harmless fizz. Tom turned back around just in time to see the wilted plant wobble from the near miss.

"Huh. Not bad. Though this is what you've been spending time on? Where are the obligatory fire spells?"

"I haven't learned them."

"How did you pass the exam?" Tommaso furrowed his brows.

"You need a 50 to pass. 50% of the test was theory. I scored a 48 in theory."

"You passed on a technicality?" Fabrisse shrugged and shoved the now-empty pie tin under his chair.

"It's not a technicality if it's in the rules."

"Then how much did you get for the actual spellcasting portion?"

"Seven. Lorvan said my form was acceptable." Tommaso let out an elongated exhale and rubbed his temples.

"And you're supposed to be the Chosen One." He paused for another second.

"Look. Final year subjects won't be like that. The theory itself gets harder and they won't let you pass without a sufficient cast. Maybe we can transform whatever knowledge you've accumulated into practice. You don't keep that old notebook with you anymore?"

"At home. It's so tattered it can turn into dust if I touch it too hard."

"What about your lucky charm?" Fabrisse had once found a shard of lunarglass hematite. That rock was aether-reactive and could resonate with aetheric channels during incantation.

"I left it with Dubbie."

"You're kidding." Tommaso snorted.

"It actually offers a boost to your Inner Resonance, so you should bring it along with you. Dubbie doesn't even practice Thaumaturgy. You, on the other hand, need some help." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Speaking of help… He had a quest which would run out in three days. During those two days, he had to throw a rock at Cuman's face. It was imperative that Cuman got stoned.

"I know this might be a long shot… But do you know of any way for me to improve my rock flinging in two days?" Fabrisse asked sheepishly.

"Rock flinging, huh?" Tommaso put a finger on his chin.

"I have just the thing for you." [You have equipped the Thaumaturge's Throwmitts of Misguided Bravado] [Grade: Common — Attuned] Requirement: None Description: RES + 2; Spellcasting Output +7% Also passively increases your likelihood to pick fights you probably can't win, if your FP drops to lower than 30% of the total amount. [WARNING: These will take up 2 Inventory slots]"I made them myself! You likey?" Tommaso boasted the moment Fabrisse put the mitts on. He wore a particularly pompous puff of pride on his face.

"What did you imbue into this?" Fabrisse asked, but he knew the answer was probably arrogance.

"Spellthreaded aetherhide, and a bit of attitude. You see them stitches? Triple-loop resonance weave. Most people cheap out and only use two."

"Ah." Spellthreaded aetherhide was a pliable leather harvested from dusk-antlered hornbeasts, creatures not extinct but rather hard to herd without someone losing a limb. But during the crafting process—particularly at the stage of infusion—these materials became highly impressionable. In Tommaso's case, that emotional imprint had baked in an unwanted side effect, nudging the wearer towards unwise but theatrical acts of magical aggression. Fabrisse turned the mitts over in his hands.

"Hang on... isn't this an artifact? I thought the Order banned artifact use." Tommaso barked out a laugh.

"An artifact? No. These are regulation combat mitts."

"There's a difference?"

"A huge one." Tommaso tapped the leather.

"This is military-grade thaumic equipment, made by licensed thaumaturgical artificers to standardized specifications. Every enchantment is documented. Standardization is a big deal, you know?"

"No, I don't know that." Tommaso shrugged.

"Look; here's the thing. Artifacts are the weird things people drag out of dungeons. You can't consistently rely on them to deliver. But if I make a hundred pairs of these mitts, they'll all do the same thing. Same output boost, same resonance, all that." Fabrisse pointed at the orange stitching running around the cuffs.

"Even the orange?"

"You can choose the colour," Tommaso admitted.

"The regulations aren't that cruel."

"Did you choose this color just to mess with me?"

"You caught on quick." Fabrisse stared down at his mitts. The weather was still much too warm for such thick gear, but he appreciated the lunarglass mesh that etched along the knuckles. It caught the light like frost. If only these mitts weren't… orange in color. Bright orange, like someone had tried to enchant pride and ended up with safety cones.

"Alright, let's see it." Tommaso tapped Fabrisse's satchel.

"Grab a stone and aim for that shriveled patch on the root." He pointed at the wilted plant. Fabrisse reached into his satchel and pulled out one of his smoother stones. The weight felt denser somehow, like the mitts had synchronized with it. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. He flung it. The stone struck the soil just beside the plant's stem. The wilted leaves shuddered from the impact.

"Woah." Fabrisse stared at his own hands. He did not just make a shot that clean. [SYSTEM NOTE: Equipment dependency detected.] The… the extra RES helped stabilize the trajectory so much. Quest completion is possible now. I need to finish this quest soon, so I can actually spend time on passing my test and FINALLY get to learn Earth properly. But I shouldn't be so full of myself. There would be no way Cuman would just let a stone fly at his face without blocking it. He needed a distraction.

As Fabrisse walked over to pick up the stone, he spoke to Tommaso over his shoulder, "Tom. I have something I need your help with."

"Spit it. Nothing your best buddy can't handle." He really wanted to tell Tommaso about the quest, which would mean his friend needed to learn about how Eidralith worked. But Lorvan had told him to not tell anyone, even his best friends.

"What you're about to say, dude? Don't backtrack now," Tommaso urged. He should've opened his mouth to tell Tom everything—the glyph, the system, the sidequest. However, what came out was, "I'm being bullied by sixteen-year-olds."

"For real?" Tommaso's voice cracked. Why did I say it like that? Now it sounded even more humiliating.