Chapter 23
That evening, the news Ian had been waiting for finally arrived. A postal worker delivered a letter to his dormitory.
Letters during work hours were delivered directly whenever possible. Felix’s letter had been left in the mailbox only because it was too early.
“You receive quite a lot of letters, Ian. A lover, perhaps?”
“No. It’s likely from my family.”
“For urgent matters, it’s better to use the communication line instead of letters. Academy students can access it at a discount—visit the post office.”
“Thank you.”
Even if he wanted to use the communication line, he couldn’t. The Oracle House didn’t have one installed.
The communication line was exorbitantly expensive. The Oracle House’s finances couldn’t bear the cost.
After the worker left, Ian closed the door and sat on his bed.
The letter in his hand was from the Oracle House—specifically, from Wilson.
He sent it faster than I expected.
He’d thought it would take days, but Wilson seemed to have acted immediately after receiving the message. After meeting Felix, Ian had sent Wilson an important order.
Ian tore open the letter.
“A letter from your lover? You said you didn’t have one! Or did you already charm someone at the academy?”
Miles grumbled while tinkering with the distillation apparatus. Ian waved his hand dismissively, signaling him to focus on his work.
Fortunately, Edel distracted Miles by asking him something, allowing Ian to avoid further attention.
Ian unfolded the letter.
― My Lord. As instructed, I visited Mr. Frederick’s general store. The clerk informed me that Mr. Frederick left the capital days ago for a distant business trip. I obtained no further useful information. Should you require anything else, please issue your command at any time.
Just as I suspected.
He’d secured a critical piece of evidence. Frederick likely wouldn’t return to the capital for some time.
It’s unthinkable for a merchant to abandon his post without notice, especially with pending potion deliveries.
This confirmed the link between Frederick and Felix.
Frederick had indeed met Felix—Ian had heard it directly from Felix at the salon. Felix hadn’t denied that Frederick might have betrayed him.
If Frederick was involved in contract forgery and fled the capital after being exposed…
The puzzle pieces aligned.
Ian ignited flames in his palm and cleanly incinerated the letter.
Now I just need capital. Clear my debts and hire informants to investigate.
Hiring skilled informants required vast sums.
But if his potion’s quality gained recognition and was patented, everything would change.
Potions were universally used—no one went without them.
Doubling their efficacy with the same ingredients would make wealth inevitable.
Frederick’s whereabouts and Hamel Trading’s assets.
Securing these two pieces of information would naturally reveal his next move.
Having organized his thoughts, Ian stood up.
Miles and Edel sat by the distillation apparatus, deep in discussion. Both were fully absorbed in their potion project.
“How’s it progressing?”
“Hmm, adjusted the steam cooling here and changed materials to prevent contamination. Shouldn’t we call the professor now?”
“Look for more improvements first. We still have time.”
“I want to finish quickly.”
“Prepare for the magic aptitude test first. Edel’s fine, but you need to focus.”
“Gah!”
Miles jerked his head toward the clock—it was already past 9 p.m.
“Damn! It’s this late already… I need to go to the training hall. Edel, handle the rest!”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“Let’s go together.”
“Ian, you too?”
Ian nodded.
“I have an experiment to conduct.”
“Really? Let’s go. By now, everyone’s chugging potions and blasting spells there. Doubt there’s space.”
Merely consuming potions didn’t increase magical power—the purity of one’s circles mattered.
Improving purity required frequent mana usage, but lacking time, they resorted to spellcasting shortcuts.
The magic aptitude test held greater significance than regular exams.
Ranking within the top three would elevate a family’s prestige across high society.
I couldn’t care less about rankings… I need to verify if I understood those incantations correctly.
The memory of Isella flawlessly casting Lightning magic in the library’s training room resurfaced.
“Let’s go before it’s too late.”
“Heh… Time to unveil my prowess?”
“You don’t even need to be a mage.”
Ian pointed at Miles’ staff, which he wielded like a hammer.
“Swinging it raw lacks satisfaction. Coating it with mana makes the crack of breaking pots more satisfying!”
“Tch. Whatever.”
Ian and Miles headed to the magic training hall.
The library wasn’t the only place with a training hall. A separate facility existed exclusively for Magic Department students.
Naturally, it accommodated all spells within an academy student’s capability.
Occasional duels meant walls were lined with anti-magic materials, allowing unrestricted spellcasting without damage.
“Everyone’s gone wild, as expected.”
Crackle!
Whoosh!
Flames and lightning flew everywhere. Even the chilling Icebolt spells were visible.
Over ten freshmen occupied spots, relentlessly casting.
Some sat exhausted, gulping mana recovery potions—far costlier than stamina potions due to rare ingredients.
“Only one spot left here…”
“Figures.”
Safety distance was crucial during training.
Unprotected spell strikes caused severe injuries, hence marked safe distances on the floor.
“Take turns?”
“No. You go first. I’ll wait for an opening.”
“Then pardon me!”
Miles closed his eyes and formed a seal with his left hand.
Mana gathered at the tip of his right-hand staff.
『Firebolt.』
Firebolt—the lowest 1st-circle offensive spell.
A head-sized fireball coalesced. Miles pointed his staff at the wall, and the blaze shot forth violently.
BOOM!
Ian whistled, impressed.
No wonder he aimed for the Magic Department.
The power surpassed typical 1st-circle spells. This level could compete for top ranks in the aptitude test.
“How’s that?”
“Better than expected.”
“Hahaha! Of course! I endured every insult to become an academy mage. Gotta back it up now!”
Confidently, Miles formed another seal.
Elegant curves wove through the air.
『Icebolt.』
This time, a sphere of cold energy formed. The staff swung, unleashing an icy surge toward the wall.
Crash!
Ice fragments scattered with a glass-like shatter, though the wall remained pristine.
“How’s THAT?!”
“One verse is enough.”
“Tch.”
Ian understood the craving for validation.
As a mage from a swordsmanship lineage, Miles had likely endured mockery. Ian smirked, watching him train.
“Ian.”
A classmate nearby spoke up.
“I’m done training. Want the spot?”
“Sure.”
The atmosphere shifted the moment Ian stood. The relentless spellcasting ceased. All eyes turned to him.
The weight of their stares was palpable.
Some students whispered—their words obvious even unheard.
That Helios brat’s causing trouble again. Should’ve snuck out at dawn…
But there was no time. Theory required practical proof.
Better to demonstrate here. Bluffing test results will be easier later.
Ian began forming seals. His hands glowed faintly blue.
“Huh?”
“What?”
“Is that a new seal?”
“Lightning magic… but different?”
“A failed cast. His seals are sloppy…”
1st-circle Lightning magic was nothing special among peers.
But Ian didn’t care.
This was the exact seal Isella had used in the library.
『Lightning.』
CRACK!
BOOOOM!
Screams erupted. The current surging from his staff wasn’t ordinary “Lightning.”
For a moment, everyone felt the terror of standing in a storm’s eye.
Some classmates touched the lightning-struck wall, fearing damage.
“This…”
“THIS is Lightning magic?!”
“Impossible!”
Murmurs spread, but Ian wasn’t finished.
Isella demonstrated a proven formula. Published in papers. Now to confirm my understanding with another spell.
He formed another seal.
“What now?”
“Firebolt-like? But different…”
“Where’d he learn this?!”
“Since when was the Oracle House this strong?!”
Their assumptions amused him.
Yes. Misinterpret all you want!
He finished the seal and thrust his staff.
『Firebolt.』
His first objective power test.
The image of Miles’ earlier Firebolt lingered for comparison.
WHOOSH!
KABOOOM!
A shockwave followed the explosion—unlike Miles’ spell. Smoke and dust billowed, though the wall remained intact.
“A sh-shockwave?!”
“That’s not Firebolt—it’s Fireball!”
“No! The trajectory’s different! It’s not Fireball!”
“Then what is it?!”
Ian lowered his staff.
Miles’ Firebolt hadn’t achieved this scale. Shockwaves were unique to higher-tier spells like Fireball—an unprecedented feat for Firebolt.
If my circle tier were higher…
The outcome might have been catastrophic.
But greed was dangerous. Recalling his father’s teaching—“All power demands a price”—Ian steadied himself.
Regardless, it’s a success.
He’d tasted the exhilarating thrill of victory.
Now, he stood equal to his peers. With his glasses, further growth was inevitable.
Suddenly, he turned, sensing stares.
His classmates gaped at him, utterly dumbfounded.
