The hardest thing to do was to convince a mage that someone was up to the task—any task. As Dallion quickly found out, excellence only received a passing grade. Anything less only confirmed the notion that he should stay stuck to two classes “until he could get the hang of things.” The really sad part was that in his current state, Dallion couldn’t disagree. He tried to use every trick there was to learn faster, and most of them blew back in his face. Combat splitting proved to be particularly ineffective, despite a brief initial boost. Having to find the right page every few seconds became more distracting than useful.

Training in his realm also didn’t provide the boost Dallion expected; in fact, it was expected of him to spend days there training and learning. From a few conversations he’d had with other novices, it turned out they were doing the same things.

Then, when Dallion felt that things couldn’t get any worse, Phoil became a rank three novice.

“Wow, how the mighty have fallen.” The large boy grinned at Dallion, repeating words he most likely was told by an echo. “How does it feel to be scum?”

“I’ve no idea. Why don’t you tell me?”

Surprisingly, Phoil’s expression didn’t change. Maybe it was because he didn’t have his posse with him, or maybe he had managed to mature a bit, grinding through trials till he upped his magic to level ten. Dallion, in contrast, had focused on other things.

“I heard you’re the only regular in that improvement thing,” he said in a lower voice.

Initially, Dallion through this was the start of another insult. However, once he noticed there was no spite emanating from the boy, Dallion actually started to pay attention.

“Only one there,” he said. “Cheska used to join from time to time, but she stopped.”

“Show me.”

“Look, we’re about to start class and—”

The large boy shoved a pin in Dallion’s hand; thankfully, not with the sharp end first.

“Turn that into glass.”

“Phoil, that’s not how it works. I can’t transform something into anything. Improvement follows principles like…” he thought for a moment, wondering how to explain it. “Like corridors. If we leave the room, we can only go to another room in this building. I can’t take you to a room in another building without—”

“Turn it into quicksilver, then.”

Dallion’s eyes widened. He was deeply convinced that an echo was leading the conversation, but still didn’t see the reason or it. They were already creating something of a scene in class. The only reason no one was paying particular attention was because everyone else was too focused on their own problems, revising symbols and spell patterns.

“Fine!” Dallion hissed. “Better keep your eyes peel, cause I’m not keeping it quicksilver for long.”

ITEM AWAKENING

Splitting into instances, Dallion quickly rushed in all directions, running through rectangles in the process. Once he saw which instance was heading towards an opening in the wall, he ended the rest and performed a point attack.

COMBAT INITIATED

TERMINAL STRIKE

Dealt damage is increased by 1000%

PIN level increased

The PIN has been improved to STEEL

Now came the difficult part. Dallion split into a hundred instances. In each instance, Dallion used his layer vision to extend his magic and pull out a specific rectangle from the infinity stacked up in the stack. After weeks of practicing, he had developed the skill to grasp a specific rectangle even if it was thinner than a strand of hair.

A hundred options appeared before him. Seventy of them were steel, ten—iron, ten—bronze, three tin. Of the seven that remained, most were precious metals. Thankfully, there was a quicksilver one as well.

Dallion selected that instance, turning it into reality, then placed it on the top of the stack.

PIN level increased

The PIN has been improved to QUICKSILVER

Back in the real world, the pin lost form, turning into a blob of mercury in Dallion’s palm. Moments later. It shifted again, transforming into a blob of silver.

“There.” Dallion put the pin on the desk in front of him. “Happy?”

It was a simple exercise, but it was still extremely exhausting. On the positive side, he didn’t faint this time.

“Wow, you really can pull it off.” For the first time since Dallion had known him, Phoil seemed amazed. Just as he was about to add something more, an Argus clone entered the room. Class had officially started.

Since there was a new face, the mage gave Dallion the honors of reciting the basics of spelling. Dallion did so begrudgingly, after which he did a simple spell demonstration. Of course, he was corrected several times by the mage, who always found something that displeased him.

Following that, the man went on to give out individual tasks. Phoil, as a rookie, was told to perform single circle spells. Dallion was focusing on doing three-circle spells along with most of the rest. Cheska and a few others were tasked with attempting spells with five circles. One thing that Dallion had quickly learned was that it was always better to keep his distance from everyone else during spelling. Practical experimentation was a mix between physics and chemistry where everyone was given free reign to play with the really dangerous toys. Mishaps were common. Sometimes spells just fizzled out incomplete, but in other instances the novices themselves proved unprepared to deal with the effects, causing a spell to fly loose.

“Alright, your two hours are up,” the Argus-echo said. “Next week, I want everyone but Phoil to be able to cast at least two four-circle spells. Don’t worry about efficiency or type of spells, yet. You’re still building up stamina.”

Novices started to leave the room.

“Dallion, you stay.”

Great, Dallion thought.

The first time the mage had asked him to stay, Dallion was under the false impression that he’d be praised, possibly even told he could take more courses. However, as it soon became clear, being asked to stay was only done only when Argus had harsh criticism.

“Your magic is still at twelve. The rest are leaving you behind.”

“I don’t have enough time, mage.” Dallion replied, his voice sounding squeakier than usual. “The trials are easy. I can complete them without effort.”

“If you haven’t done it up to now, then they aren’t easy!” Argus snapped all of a sudden. “You’re focusing on what you shouldn’t and ignoring what’s obvious.”

Dallion wanted to grit his teeth. Were all mages like this? This sounded like Nil at his worst. It had taken decades for the old echo to finally start to treat him as something more than an idiot. Was the same amount of time needed for Argus as well?

“Level one vortexes can only bring you to twenty. After that you’ll have to find your own means to boost up.”

“Wasn’t twenty the point at which I become an apprentice?”

“You think that the magic level is all it takes?” Disappointment emanated from the mage-echo. “That’s the bare minimum. You can’t even cast a five-circle spell, let alone create one of your own. Your casting method is barely adequate, your planning is laughable, and you’re still using gimmicks to control item improvement. Need I go on?”

He has a point, dear boy, Nil agreed. You’ve been focusing so much on impressing him that you’ve let yourself be overtaken. Soon enough, all your previous classmates will become rank three. What will you do, then?

“The reason I’ve kept you from entering other classes is because I wanted to give you time to improve steadily. You’ve done nothing of the sort! My gift has been wasted! And while you can claim that you’re the best in the very narrow field of improvement magic, that’s nothing to boast about. Not unless you want to end up working as a tinkerer for some noble or return to being a hunter—both abysmally bad options.”

Abysmally bad? Dallion wondered.

The standards at the Academy were definitely high. In the rest of the world, hunters were treated as minor nobility. Here, they were viewed as less than servants.

“Get out of here. There will be no other classes today. Get some rest, eat, spend some time in the library, do whatever you need to do to get your head straight. Then, starting tomorrow, I expect you to start doing things right.”

The Argus-echo gave Dallion one final look, then faded out of existence in a cloud of purple particles.

Easy for you to say, Dallion thought. You’ve been familiar with magic since your awakening!

Splitting into a dozen instances, Dallion slammed onto the nearest desk with twelve of them, then took them out of existence and left the auditorium. He’d already had planes, but after the talk, he didn’t feel like doing any of them. His first instincts were to go to his room or the library. That’s why he went to the dining hall instead.

At this time of day, the room was completely empty. Everyone else was either in class or in the library. Taking advantage, Dallion went to the old “champion” table and sat down. Things were going differently than he had expected. After his conversation with Karka a while back, he had been left under the impression that he’d grown a lot faster once he reached the stage to cast spells. It turned out to be the opposite. There was no denying he was among the best when it came to making spell circles. He had also learned an impressive number of magic symbols. However, there always seemed to be something missing. It was as if he was rushing up a ladder only to find that the final step was missing, then fall back down again.

“Tough day?” a familiar voice asked.

Glancing at the entrance, Dallion saw Raven standing there.

“You can say that. The mage is driving me crazy.”

“I think everyone’s noticed that.” The black-haired made his way to Dallion’s table. “Just like they’ve noticed, you’re his favorite.”

“Yeah, right.”

“There probably are two mages in the entire Academy that can do what you can at item improving, and he’s not one of them. So, what if you use weird methods?”

“Are you trying to cheer me up?” Dallion asked. By now, he knew that Raven didn’t do anything without a reason, even being nice or rude.

“I’m trying to help you focus your concentration,” he said. “Remember the thing we talked about? We’ll be doing it tonight.”

“This night tonight?” Dallion fought the urge to jump up. “Why didn’t you tell me until now?”

“You’re not the only piece in the puzzle. I was waiting for something. There’s also another reason. The challenge hall isn’t the only place you can boost your magic. There’s one more place.”

Dallion didn’t like where this was going. Creating mischief in a mage school always sounded like a good idea in theory, but actually doing it came with serious consequences. Dallion had already been shouted at several times for doing precisely what was expected of him. He could only imagine what awaited him if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“I know where they keep the vortex cubes. We can go there now. No fuss, no rules, no requirements. You can go through ten of those if you want to.”

“Are you insane?” Dallion split into instances just to check if anyone wasn’t listening at the door outside. “Stealing artifacts?”

“It’s not stealing. You’ll be using them. And it’s not like they’ll be missed. With this many novices, no one can keep track. It’ll be no different from doing the trial the official way, just faster. Besides, we’ll only get in trouble if we’re caught.”

This was more than a dare, it was a test. Despite the lack of emotions emanating from Raven, Dallion knew that his participation in the “alliance” might very well depend on his answer.

I’d advise you to be careful, Nil said. While what he’s saying isn’t incorrect, it’s not an approach I would take.

“But hey, if you’re unsure, we can go ahead as you are not.”

“No,” Dallion quickly said. “Let’s do it. A boost or two will show that old goat who’s got a low magic trait.