Chương 71: The Standard for Advancement

To help Zelier understand more intuitively, Marven decided to demonstrate it himself. He casually extended one hand. In that instant, Zelier sensed neither a ripple of mana nor the slightest sign of spell preparation. A brilliant, diamond-shaped Arcane Missile had already condensed into existence. One second? Two? Zelier couldn't help whispering in amazement. Instructor Marven could charge an Arcane Missile even faster than Zelier could cast a Fireball with his ashwood staff.

The crystalline projectile streaked toward the stone wall, its blazing trail resembling a comet. BOOM!! The moment it struck, a surge of mana several times stronger than before erupted outward, whipping up violent gusts that swept across the training ground. The Stone Wall Riely had summoned was obliterated without leaving so much as a fragment behind.

"Your turn, Zelier. Try again," Marven said. Zelier nodded, closed his eyes, and carefully followed the guidance he had just received. He abandoned the unnecessary step of sensing the surrounding environment, sinking his entire awareness into his own Soul Space. Mana flowed once more. It coursed along its familiar pathways, weaving together the Spell Matrix. Without the extra steps, the entire charging process felt smoother than ever before.

Everything clicked into place naturally, as if the spell had always wanted to be cast this way. Boom! His Arcane Missile roared through the air. This time, he'd cut his casting time from over seven seconds to just over six—the same speed as his Flame Breath. The massive improvement filled him with exhilaration.

"Excellent. You're improving remarkably fast." Marven smiled in satisfaction. His judgment hadn't been wrong after all. Standing nearby, Riely's emotions were considerably more complicated. True, he could still cast the Tier-3 spell Cutting Water faster than Zelier. But that speed had come from years of relentless practice. When Riely himself had been sixteen... He hadn't been anywhere near this talented.

Casting two Arcane Missiles in succession had left Zelier's mana reserves noticeably depleted, yet the joy on his face was impossible to hide. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed respectfully.

"Instructor Marven, thank you for your guidance."

"That's because your comprehension is exceptional. Most people wouldn't grasp it on the first try." Marven tossed him the crystal Riely had used earlier.

"This is a Source Power Crystal. There's still plenty of energy left inside. It can replenish your mana quickly, so don't let those two Arcane Missiles interfere with today's meditation."

"Thank you, Instructor Marven." Zelier caught it securely. After a brief hesitation, he spoke again.

"There's actually one more thing I'd like to ask."

"Go ahead."

"What exactly... does the process of advancing to a Lower Mage look like?" The question had been bothering him for quite some time.

"Is it really just as you described? Starting with Tier-2 spells, gradually improving casting speed, and eventually moving on to optimizing the Spell Matrices of Tier-3 spells?"

"Hmm..." Marven considered the question for a moment.

"Let me put it this way. The moment you truly become a Lower Mage, you won't need us to tell you."

"You'll know."

"As you continue meditating day after day, your mana steadily grows stronger."

"Those countless tiny improvements accumulate over time. Once they reach a certain threshold, your Fountain Seed undergoes a metamorphosis."

"When that happens, your strength takes a dramatic leap. The change is impossible to miss."

"So the guild's advancement criteria are merely a method of verifying your level." He chuckled.

"After all, we need some standard to determine who qualifies for the guild stipend."

"But anyone who's experienced that metamorphosis will have no trouble passing the examination."

"I see..." Zelier nodded thoughtfully. So that was the metamorphosis. The same kind of qualitative leap brought about when one's attributes crossed a critical threshold.

"Then why is casting speed the primary standard?" he asked.

"Why not something like mana output? Wouldn't that make a valid benchmark too?"

"Because experience has already answered that question," Marven replied.

"Back when magical theory was still immature, mages could only grope their way forward. Everyone followed the path they believed was right."

"Some focused on increasing raw mana power."

"Others devoted themselves to improving mana control."

"In the end, without exception, the ones who mastered mana control reached the next realm first."

"That's why the guild made casting speed the core of its evaluation."

"It isn't just an exam. It's meant to point young mages in the right direction and keep them from wasting years on the wrong path."

"I understand now. Thank you for clearing that up, Instructor Marven," Zelier said respectfully.

"Good. Keep training." Marven gave him a few more words of encouragement.

"I'm looking forward to seeing how far you'll go." With that, he departed the training grounds alongside Riely, while the observing mages gradually dispersed from the stands. Only after Marven was well out of sight did Zelier quietly slip the Source Power Crystal into his pouch. There was no way he was using something that valuable now. Besides, he didn't rely on meditation to grow stronger anyway. Meditation was slow. Tedious. And terribly inefficient.

He'd seen Source Power Crystals listed at the trading post before. Even the cheapest sold for five or six gold coins. Consumables capable of restoring mana instantly were always in demand. Any mage with enough money kept a few on hand for emergencies. Just as Zelier was about to leave the training grounds, a familiar voice called from the spectator stands.

"Zelier!" He looked over. It was Lante, enthusiastically waving at him.

"Hey, Lante." Zelier waved back. Lante bounded down the steps three at a time, his eyes practically sparkling with admiration.

"You were incredible just now!" He thrust out a hand, imitating Zelier's casting posture.

"Whoosh! You just fired off this insanely powerful spell! Then Instructor Marven explained one thing, and you improved immediately! I still don't even understand half of what he was talking about."

"Haha... really? It wasn't that impressive." Zelier scratched his head, feeling a little embarrassed by such open praise.

"I bet you'll become a Lower Mage before Riely does!" Lante declared it with absolute confidence.

"I've been working hard too. Ever since you talked to me last time, I've practiced every day. Look." He extended his palm. Mana began gathering. The surrounding temperature dropped as moisture condensed above his hand, gradually crystallizing into ice. About eight seconds later, a sharply defined Ice Lance finally took shape. Whoosh! The icy projectile shot toward the ruined stone wall, exploding into a shower of glittering frost.

His casting was still slow, and his grasp of the Spell Matrix remained somewhat crude. But compared to last time... The improvement was obvious.