Boosting five levels of magic felt like drinking a ton of energy drinks. The first thing Dallion wanted to do after he and Raven rushed out of the vertex cage storage room was to get a nap before tonight’s challenge. However, that was the least thing he could do. The increased magic felt more like adrenalin. Dallion tried to spend the pent-up energy in his realm, but even after getting exhausted, his stamina would rebuild in a few minutes, bringing him to the same restless state he’d been before. Apparently, the magic trait granted fast stamina recovery—something Dallion had experienced just now.

After a few hours, Dallion tried taking advantage of the fact by attempting one of his three remaining trials. The boost in magic and spell knowledge was quite the boon, but sadly, the result was the same. After half an hour of intense fighting, Dallion lost the trial. It was exactly as Nil had said: Dallion’ spell knowledge had caught up to the trial echo’s skills during their last encounter. However, the opponent’s new abilities had vastly outstripped Dallion’s ability to catch up, ten circle sphere spells to change reality itself.

The whole thing was almost laughable, considering that Dallion had defeated the Purple Moon’s familiar. Yet, that only showed how powerful the Star had been in effect. The sad truth was that while Dallion had definitely moved on from being a weakling, there were beings vastly stronger than him.

When the fight against the trial echo failed to calm him down, Dallion decided to stop with his attempts to fall asleep and went to the library. A whole lot of sections had become legible now, including a few “philosophical” books regarding the nature of the Moons. Grabbing them, Dallion started reading.

It started mostly as an exercise to waste time, yet soon turned into more than that. From what was written, there had been a number of instances in the past in which a person had been granted magic at a whim. In most cases, that was the Purple Moon being random. However, in a few cases the aetherbird had done so as well. The common theme, though, was that according to the leading philosophical school of thought at the time, people who’d gone through this were believed to have the ”Moon’s own magic” which was different from the one granted to them through standard awakening. The belief was that this type of magic was superior in the sense that it could bypass a few additional restrictions, including such placed by the Moons themselves.

“Nil,” Dallion whispered. “Is it true?”

Is what true? The echo feigned ignorance. A lot was said in those books. And let’s not forget that philosophy is true from a certain point of view. Most of it’s pretentious crap, anyway.

“When Aether created the trait, did he grant me Moon magic?”

All magic is Moon magic. That’s the whole point. SO, yes, he did grant you Moon magic, just as—

“Nil…”

Yes, your magic might be considered different. The echo signed. It’s not like that’s as significant as you think. All those claims of directly bestowed magic being superior to other magic are questionable at best. True, there have been mages who’s accomplished phenomenal feats, but there are also instances of complete failures that have received—

“What’s the difference?”

Excuse me?

“What’s the difference between normal magic and Moon magic?”

Well, that’s pretty much it, dear boy. One was granted directly by the deity, while the other was “earned” the standard way. That’s all. Your magic isn’t stronger, or further reaching, nor does it grant you the ability to perform unique spells. All that about it not being subject to limits is completely made up and based on observation. More correlation than causation, if you’d ask anyone.

“Anyone?”

Well, every now and again there are scholars who seem to believe that they’ve found proof of some major difference. Think of it more than them hedging their bets. You have eleven skills and the knowledge to use them. It’s natural they’d want you, and if the Moon magic superstition turns out to be true, all the better.

“You’re saying there’s no difference?”

There is one, a melodic combination of sounds came from Dallion’s domain. Harp had joined in the conversation. Purity.

There was a long moment of silence during which neither Dallion nor Nil reacted.

“What’s purity?”

Magic is like energy, she continued. It’s also like metal. Ultimately, it’s like water. The purer it is, the more it slides, ignoring any resistance. All magic can slide, people can rarely see any difference. But sometimes there will be circumstances in which low-purity magic will stick and only the purest will slide through.

Out of habit Dallion thought of an Earth example. Making direct comparisons was getting more and more difficult, but it sounded like the magic a person was given had the qualities of a conductor, in addition to everything else. If that were the case, then he was a superconductor.

Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter, Nil said after a while. Spell effects aren’t affected by magic. As long as all the symbols of the spells are complete and properly arranged, the spell will still be the case. Reaction speed is far more important in that case.

Harp didn’t argue. It was entirely possible that her magic was different from the ones used in this era. Dallion remembered Aspan telling him that magic had changed significantly throughout the ages. Maybe in the past, purity had a far greater importance. Then again, it was also possible that the challenge involved something that was from the past.

Knowing what to search, Dallion scoured the library. It took a while, but he finally found a few scrolls talking about magic purity. To little surprise, the scrolls were a reference to an older nymph work. Brushing aside the poetic form and questionable history accounts, it was said that there were “riddles” that only a “pure key of Moon magic” could unlock. Normally, Dallion would have discarded the whole thing as crap, but his scholarly skills kicked in, spotting the linguistic pattern. To be precise, he didn’t spot it, but rather translated the quotes in the test to the original language, then spotted the pattern.

As it turned out, high “purity” magic provided a huge advantage when making potions, but also when forming symbols. If the scroll could be believed, not all symbols could be done by everyone. Long ago, before the modern approach to magic, spells were more like unique designs that encompassed all. Every spell had to be remembered separately, even in cases where the difference wasn’t large at all; a small fireball would be different from a large fireball. And among the designs, there were certain spells that could only be cast by people with higher purity magic.

Things were a lot different from symbol combinations. Spells were likely less elegant, but mages were able to customize them on the fly rather than having a limited number of ready solutions. However, if purity was linked to the ability to create patterns with magic, did that mean there might be symbols that only Dallion and others like him could create? If so, that gave Dallion a huge advantage, even if it wouldn’t be made apparent right away.

Inspired by the prospect, Dallion tried to find any other mention of difficult symbols, but to no avail. All the really complicated ones were still illegible, set for apprentices only. Dallion was given only the option to learn basic symbols, same as every other novice. It was annoying knowing that the learning system put in place by the academy to make things easier for Dallion was the precise thing giving such a hard time.

“Nothing like a light read?” Cheska’s familiar voice came from both the left and right of Dallion. For anyone else, this would be confusing, but thanks to Dallion’s music skills, he could tell exactly where she was standing and turned in the appropriate direction.

“Hi, Cheska. Learning some new tricks?”

“Guess that was too easy to catch you?” There was a mild whiff of disappointment coming from the girl, though not as much as Dallion expected there would be. “Finished reading?”

“Almost. Why?”

“It’s time to eat. If we don’t get our food, we’ll be starving for the night.”

Dallion’s reaction was to refuse. However, he was fully aware of what she had in mind. The invitation wasn’t coming from her, but from Raven. This could well be the first time that the entire group would be in the same place.

“Isn’t it a bit early?” Dallion asked.

Instead of replying, Cheska looked intently at Dallion’s chest.

“Five levels,” she said, nodding as she did. “A few more and you’d have caught up?”

“Caught up to you?”

“Yep. You know we’re both fighting for the position of star pupil?”

The phrase almost made Dallion choke. It was a perfectly reasonable question, but too soon after his fight with the Star.

“I thought I was lagging behind.”

“In magic, definitely. In class, though. You’re almost as fast as me and if you had boosted your trait earlier, you’d know twice as many symbols. Now, you’ll have to copy what I’m doing.”

“Copy?”

“Haven’t you been in a group while exploring the realms?” Cheska appeared confused.

Right, Dallion said to himself. It was possible to group together. Gloria had taught him this, and the Icepicker guild had shown him the benefits. People in a group shared awakened markers, not to mention that combination attacks received bonuses. Cooperating while using other skills also was beneficial. Unfortunately, Dallion had ignored that, relying on the skills of his minions and familiars.

“Hunters work alone,” he lied. “Don't worry, though. I pick things up fast.”

“Let’s hope so. We’ll be the tip of the spear. Twin spears.”

Dallion narrows his eyes. He’d give a lot to have Lux with him right now. Without a doubt she had a new echo in her realm and it was pretty easy to tell whose.

“Let’s go.” Dallion took the books and scrolls he had borrowed. Returning them quickly to their places, he then joined Cheska, and they went together to the dining room.

On the surface, the atmosphere there was no different than usual. With classes over, everyone was there—those that had no classes had decided to take a break from reading and training. At the same time, Dallion could sense a cluster of determination coming from the far side of the room. Two people were seated there: Raven and a short, common-looking girl. Thinking back, Dallion believed she was one of those who were impressed by him succeeding in his task back when he was a rank one novice. The girl wasn’t remotely memorable. He didn’t even remember when she had reached rank three, although it hadn’t been much later than himself.

Concentrating, Dallion focused his magic vision on her. He was trying to determine the level of her magic trait by looking at it. Instead, a purple rectangle emerged, displaying the values of all her skills and traits.

Not expecting this, Dallion froze for a moment.

“What happened?” Cheska asked.

“Nothing,” Dallion lied. “I just remembered something.”

He’d wondered how mages were able to tell the value of his traits. Initially, he thought that was an ability that appeared when his magic trait reached twenty. As it turned out, it was far sooner.

“They’re both level fifteens?” he asked. The rectangle vanished as he said it.

Useful, isn’t it? Nil asked. It’s the little things that give a huge advantage.

Dallion almost said he didn’t think it would work in the real world. Then he remembered that magic thrived on exceptions.

“That’s enough for support.” Cheska replied.

Concentrating on her, Dallion found that she had her magic trait at nineteen—one before she’d be able to become an apprentice.

The two got some food, made their way to Raven’s table.

“Ready?” the black-haired asked directly, skipping the small talk.

“You know it,” Dallion replied. “Iksa?” he turned to the girl beside Raven. “Never thought you’d be here.”

“I knew you would.” She glanced at him, then at Cheska, then looked down at the table. “Both of you.”

“Prodigies and hunters are difficult to hide,” Raven said. “So I didn’t bother.”

“Who’s the fifth?” Dallion took a gulp from his cup. If nothing else, the fruit juice at the Academy kept being one of the best things he’d ever tasted.

“Behind you.” Raven said.

Both Cheska and Dallion turned around, looking over their shoulders.

You must be joking! Dallion thought.