Chapter 100: Become a Mage

Mage is the elegy of the talentless.

Dragons and dragonkin command elements to fulfill their desires; their magic is simple, crude, yet powerful.

Thus, whether dragon tongue, dragon language magic, or dragon breath, all possess low cost and high power, appearing primitive in magical structure, yet achieving miracles that other races would rage at as "permission thugs."

Sorcerers, warlocks, and divine spellcasters are in fact fundamentally indistinguishable.

They are all users of "external power," borrowing bloodline, higher beings, or divine authority to harness pre-set templates and privileges to control elements.

They are more like users than masters of power.

They are drivers and renters, not developers or owners.

This is also the root of the bizarre growth curve of these three classes: fast early, slow mid, and uncertain late (late-stage, any class might defy heaven).

Mage, by contrast, is extremely slow early, gradually accelerating mid to late (the mage's early stage is too long).

Mage may be the only spellcaster without innate talent or authority.

The authority to command elements is constructed through knowledge-based arrays; the force driving elements is magic provided by one's own spiritual power.

The principles and models of spells are studied bit by bit, constructed from scratch.

A normal spellcaster might spend months just learning cantrips; an average-level first-circle mage takes years to master a spell—learn a few first-circle spells, dabble in two second-circle ones, and you're already over forty, facing middle-age crisis, ready to consider pension and retirement.

Theoretically, mage is the only spellcaster that doesn't require talent, yet in practice, it becomes the most cutthroat, resource-intensive path reserved for geniuses.

"I'm starting to understand—the computational load and casting difficulty of a first-circle spell is at least twenty times that of a cantrip."

Cantrips aren't hard because they aren't spells at all—they're "practice problems" to select the talented, components of higher-circle spells.

The increased difficulty doesn't mean you need twenty times the time and effort; it means you must simultaneously run twenty times the computational load, knowledge deduction, and spatial imagination.

To turn imagination into reality, to wield the brush in the void, requires genuine multithreading and high computational power, and knowledge accumulation multiplied manyfold.

"The circle level of a spell isn't about power—it's about difficulty. The gap between each circle might be tenfold." This was Luo Yisi's exact words, and Li En agreed.

After all, his own third-circle Holy Flame Aura is the clearest proof—its power doesn't match most first-circle spells, yet its effect and mechanism are clearly extremely difficult.

Thus, how far a spellcaster can go is visible from the start; where they'll ultimately stall seems deducible from the beginning.

Second-circle is the limit of ordinary intelligence; with time and luck, one might reach third-circle, but fourth-circle is absolutely unreachable.

Li En's talent, perhaps slightly enhanced by his otherworldly knowledge of math and science, is still limited, and he's unlikely to ever touch true fourth-circle.

When truly facing the threshold of becoming a mage, Li En recalled his earlier clash with the third-circle mage in the slave market, and finally understood the despair the other had felt.

The fireball he'd spent his whole life crafting—the one meant to blow up a house, meant to kill ten warriors with a single blast—struck the "barbarian" head-on and did nothing.

The rapid-cast magic missiles he'd gritted his teeth to hurl were the crystallization of years of effort, his dignity as a mage.

Yet they were utterly ignored by the "barbarian with the holy sword," even shattered by his roar.

The confusion and despair watching the barbarian stride closer, the suffocating injustice of having calculated a lifetime yet being outmatched by a single roar—surviving without dying of rage was already a sign of good mental fortitude.

"Tch, so tragic. Even if he recovers, his Dao heart is shattered—he'll never be a mage again. Hope the guy's okay."

Li En isn't a saint. Though the other seemed pitiful, he only wanted to laugh—laugh loudly.

So, is there anyone without talent who can break through to high circles?

In fact, there always have been: species evolution, magic potions compensating for innate deficiencies, borrowing external power (divine force, demonic force), embedding artifact fragments, reincarnation (possessing a young mage's body), and becoming undead—unconventional methods can all potentially break through talent bottlenecks.

Waiting passively for improvement is a dead end, but seeking alternative paths while still able to move may lead to success.

"I just want to become a mage—even the worst, the stupidest one."

Lord Lord Kuku before Li En is the most recent proof—he is the great mage who broke through talent limits, the embodiment of seeking another path.

Excluding that extremely embarrassing final battle, he truly reached the pinnacle of great mage through his own effort.

"Second thought line, activate."

For Li En, this "Lord Lord Kuku external aid" is highly effective—it accelerates learning daily, and during casting, it provides double computational power, double focus, double logical threads.

Li En took off his armor—he was far from capable of armored casting; sweat had soaked his undershirt.

"Arkhasudava," Li En murmured to himself, incantation and gestures constantly correcting, the imagined model slowly being constructed.

Over a minute had passed; this spell, which should be built in one motion (one second), Li En was still constructing.

Under normal circumstances, this casting would have failed—focus broken—but each time Li En's attention drifted, his second thought line immediately took over, allowing the process to continue uninterrupted.

Two thought lines continuously output two streams of magic.

It was like a pattern that could only be drawn in one stroke, now being completed by two people in relay.

". ark." Li En had repeated this short incantation over a dozen times, rebuilding and refining the childish spell model stroke by stroke.

This had lost all meaning in combat.

But for Li En, it likely saved months of time, moving him from being stuck on a single problem to nearly completing an entire exam paper!

"Dap."

Sweat dripped directly onto the ground; Li En had felt his limit at least four times, yet the warmth in his bloodline kept him going.

"Almost there."

Finally, he looked at the complex spell model before him (he was terrible) and smiled.

The infused magic overflowed; magic consumption exceeded third-circle, casting time stretched so long everyone doubted he was chanting a fifth-circle spell—but in the end, Li En completed this spell, this spell he built from zero.

"Longstrider!"

Finally, Li En spoke the word.

A faint white light covered his feet; the magical radiance confirmed it was real—the caster had twisted reality with his will.

He took a light step, feeling noticeably easier, then tried to run—step after step.

"Faster… twenty percent?"

Still far below the near-doubling speed of Speed Boots, even below the standard 3 m/s speed bonus—but Li En was already satisfied.

He felt the magic's feedback, sensed his elemental control and magic had clearly leapt forward.

If this wasn't an illusion, then he had truly become a mage.

【Synchronization rate increased by 10%, satisfaction increased by 20%】

And Kukku expressed celebration immediately.

There was no need to doubt anymore; Li En had already taken this step.

【Obtained Class: Mage (Tier One).】

【Obtained Magic Perception (Passive), Casting Focus (Mage), Elemental Affinity.】

After Li En became a formal mage, he also gained everything a mage should have.

"It succeeded." Li En took a deep breath and smiled.

"Did it really succeed?" Even the all-powerful magical girl showed complete incomprehension and astonishment.

How could he succeed? How could such clumsy casting techniques succeed? This was not an emotional denial, but a rational inability to accept it.

"How is success possible!" And Miss Shaliman, breaking down completely, was actually a Tier One mage herself, and might remain a Tier One mage for the rest of her life.

But Li En frowned.

He felt emptiness, felt simultaneous hunger of soul and body.

He knew what he was lacking; the soul body and class buffs made the body's operation insufficient, and his head began to ache.

"Miss Purple Rose, please help hunt some dragon breeds; I need to complete my first species evolution."

Achieving everything in one go was still unrealistic, but Li En felt he needed the body's completeness and hardware upgrades; let's start with the small dragons.

(End of this chapter)