I don’t like rubbing it in. When I win, I mean. Unless I’m playing cards with Stanimal: the man clearly cheats somehow, and I can count on one hand the times I won at his stupid Elven game of poker or whatever it’s called. But, in general, I’m not interested in poking people after having won. I find it silly and counterproductive. Plus, I really need to finish these stupid Cantrips before I blow myself off the face of this planet with a massive [Thunderbolt].

Indeed, I’m in my room above the bakery while Stanimal discusses some stuff with—

Have I ever told Stanimal I’m from another world? Huh. I should mention that. It would be a good input for the re-building of the bakery or whatever Lakaris will be working on.

Anyway, while Stan is discussing some stuff with the Goblin and his crew, I’m at my little desk with the tome open and many sheets of parchment on the side. It’s not really parchment, to be honest. Elves made a very rough form of paper, and it’s actually not half-bad.

I look at the question.

‘What is the most important attribute of a [Mage]?’

Nine words, black on white, that seem to be mocking me.

“So, book, my answer is that every mage has their own path. A [Mage] has to fit their style and cannot simply follow others blindly. Therefore, the most important thing is to have a singular, unique, and original identity.”

The book writes something right below the sentence.

“There is no right answer to this question, my student. When I first started learning magic, I struggled to fit everything inside boundaries. I tried to find absolute truths that would make my practice easier, but I discovered that I was just paddling against the flow. Magic is chaotic and will always be inherently so. One can form their own understanding, but they cannot force magic to be one thing only. What you see can and should be shared, but never should a student copy every move of their master if they want to succeed. It has been proven over and over that people can cast spells while imagining them differently but with the same efficiency and power. Magic is a trip through the densest forest or the tallest jungle. Hack it at your will to discover its greatest secrets but know that if you just follow the tracks already made before you, you will advance no further than where those people got. – Magister Mulligan”

So many words, man. But thanks, Mulligan fellow. This broken and murderous book is not that bad. I do wonder how any other person would have survived it, but it’s good enough for me, I guess.

I look at the book, waiting for the next question with the enthusiasm of a student waiting for their finals.

‘For the 508th Cantrip, Magister Mulligan has crafted this question for you: What is the most important thing when using a magic shield?’

What?

What does that mean?

“Making sure it doesn’t break and saves your life?” I almost laugh at my own stupid answer. I fully expect to be zapped, but I’m so exasperated—

New ink appears on the page.

‘Some [Philosophers] would give a different answer, my student, but they are probably dead because of some stray arrow that took them. The most important thing a shield has to do is to protect you. It doesn’t matter how; it doesn’t matter if the shield breaks and reforms every single time. There’s no wisdom deeper than simply having a shield capable of protecting you. Some employ a uni-layered shield without subunits. Some employ multi-shields with many subunits that break before the entire shield, guaranteeing more durability. Is there a correct answer? No, there is not. If your Mana pool is several times larger than your enemy’s, a shield without subunits will be much more effective because the enemy will not be able to penetrate it at all, whereas it would be dangerous having subunits against weaker opponents, as they may break a part of the shield. Vice-versa, if you have a stronger opponent, you might not want your shield to crack all at once, but you would prefer having at least partial protection during every attack.’

I look at the book with wide eyes.

Is the Mulligan fellow for real? Like, did he run out of ideas when writing the last part of the book? The said spellbook turns a page, and new ink appears.

‘For the 509th Cantrip, Magister Mulligan has crafted this question for you: What is the most important thing when using an offensive spell?’

“Not wasting your Mana?” I say, cringing.

The book doesn’t react.

Huh.

I’ll say the two previous answers may sound stupid, but they do have a lot of common sense. I suppose that being an [Archmage] is not just about being mysterious and magical, but it’s about having a deeper knowledge of the world and using it. When you go full circle, some of the most complicated questions in the world have the simplest answer. The simpler the answer, the more elegant it is.

I suppose that not wasting your Mana is not a priority if your enemy will kill you swiftly. So, my second guess would be…

“Winning as swiftly as possible without wasting time?”

New ink appears on the page.

‘Many [Archmages] perished because of their arrogance. Battles and wars are a ruthless business. When you hesitate, you give your enemy an opening. If you don’t use your killing blow when you know it would catch the other off-guard, you will die in a duel sooner or later. People save up their strength just to have it squandered when the enemy makes a lucky break. Always strike to kill. It may be sensible to wait for an opportunity if you don’t know anything about the enemy or if the enemy is much stronger than you. But the more you wait, the higher the chances you will die. Every additional second your adversary lives, the more the chances of you dying to them. Don’t waste your pity, don’t waste words. If someone tried to kill you, just kill them in return and give them no quarter.’

This book has really run out of ideas.