Chapter 188: The Mage

When the snake emerged, Li En thought things would go badly.

Someone of this rank, even a slight movement, stirs countless waves. Li En assumed the snake would bring him many new troubles.

"Maybe he's a good snake?"

Li En was a typical results-oriented person; halfway through the snake's summoning period, he had somehow, without noticing, spent the most comfortable week since arriving in this world.

No cultists caused trouble, no assassins launched sudden attacks, and even Shaliman seemed tied up with something—Li En spent his days reading books and practicing swordplay, easily passing nearly retirement-level days.

"Truly, too blessed," Li En felt unexpectedly moved, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds outside the window.

For three or four days straight, he encountered no emergencies—just staying home and playing with the children was enough.

He vaguely sensed the core issue: the greatest change was his own mindset.

When the spirit hero was present, he feared wasting a single day—he needed power to survive in this dangerous world.

Now, barring accidents, he could already protect himself.

When the spirit hero was around, Li En wished to stretch one day into two, learning and training as much as possible.

Now that the snake appeared unpredictably, occasionally showing up at home, Li En only hoped it wouldn't bother him—he wished to compress two days into one, to get rid of this plague as soon as possible!

"Tsk tsk tsk, ungrateful little brat, do you think I'd betray you? Right, I would." The snake laughed as usual, cheerful as ever.

He had already seen the clowns arriving on the battlefield.

Li En didn't take it seriously—this guy loved playing cryptic games, especially teasing you into asking questions, then saying nothing.

Besides, if the snake truly intended to do something, Li En couldn't stop him anyway; it was better to pretend he didn't exist.

Of course, Li En hadn't done nothing.

The new armor's adaptability training went exceptionally well; even without combat spellcasting, merely the armor's "weight reduction" opened up too many new tactical options.

He even imitated other knights, acquiring a small pouch of alchemical bombs and a hunting bow to compensate for his short legs.

But soon, he discarded the hunting bow—his shooting skill was nearly zero; even the best magical arrows would be wasted on him.

Missing was one thing, but even if he hit, the power couldn't match his already combat-ready Scorching Ray—if he needed greater power, he could use Dragon Tongue spells.

He kept the alchemical bomb pouch, though; many of its effects were quite interesting—oil packets, dust bombs, alchemical fire, lime powder—all expanded his tactical options.

He directly asked Victoria for them; she had planned to gift him a twelve-poison gift box, which he refused.

Yet the adventuring team's gaze toward Li En grew increasingly peculiar—ordinary knights and warriors used all sorts of tools, but for a paladin to use these items felt almost aberrant.

Meanwhile, Li En fully digested Kuku's remaining magical knowledge and completed the analysis of his second high-ring spell.

"Using space drift while wearing heavy armor? How absurd?!" He had already successfully used it in combat, astonishing and even frightening all spectators.

Through practical testing, Li En verified the armor's armor-piercing spellcasting trait—it wasn't entirely ineffective, but the impact was negligible.

Besides its near-human-level spellcasting precision, this "Dragon Armor" possessed dragon-like magical penetration and adaptability, utterly unimpeding mana flow.

Even during spellcasting, Li En faintly sensed a slight mana amplification effect and elemental damage boost!

Unfortunately, the black dragon was, in a sense, a "corrupted water dragon," a "demonic dragon of destruction"—its shadow adaptability and strong acid spell adaptability were excellent, but Li En lacked corresponding spells.

On Li En's learning list, acid-based spells were nearly at the bottom; the top priority was always combat-needed spells, such as the famous

"Phantom Step? I never expected you'd already be a high-ring mage."

The little gnome illusionist Gexim gazed at Li En with worshipful eyes—but in truth, he himself was a third-ring mage.

"It's different—I spent over a decade, couldn't bear the dull, boring life, felt I'd hit a ceiling, so I came out to see the world. Ha, my comrades always complained I had too few offensive spells," Gexim sighed; even the optimistic earth gnomes still suffered from the slow advancement of spellcasters.

But before Li En could chat long, the topic shifted to the grumpy black cat at the mansion's gate; soon finding Li En boring, he cheerfully ran off to his teammates to discuss butter and beef for lunch.

Gnomes weren't incapable of anger or sadness—they simply bounced back to happiness quickly. They instinctively avoided any topic that saddened them and always noticed amusing things to cheer themselves up.

"Phantom Step? Not bad—that's the hardest of all high-ring spells," even the snake was slightly surprised.

Reality isn't a game—there's no spell list where you just copy a scroll to learn the spell; scrolls are actually triggerable spell models.

Mages can analyze scrolls to reconstruct the casting process and acquire the relevant knowledge and spell models.

But whether you can learn them depends partly on your accumulated knowledge and partly on your innate talent—the higher the ring, the more crucial the affinity.

Phantom Step, a short-range teleport, is a classic example—it requires spatial perception (conjuration talent) to master, and to use it well, you need corresponding talent.

Some people's Phantom Step looks like phantom drift—you see only shadows, never the person.

Others resemble express trains to hell, charging straight into gaps between rocks and walls. In truth, even a slight miscalculation in teleportation can be fatal; many mages have teleported themselves into oblivion using conjuration.

Li En had decent talent in this area; "short-range teleportation within visual range" had already been integrated into his combat system.

With this long-awaited spell, he finally compensated for his short legs.

This also meant his mage abilities were finally beginning to feed back into his combat system!

"My spatial affinity seems decent—no wonder Kuku previously suggested I also study conjuration."

Conjuration and evocation are inseparable brother systems; much knowledge overlaps, and many high-ring spells appear to combine both—most directly, summoning elemental beings and elemental attacks.

But this doesn't mean mastering conjuration guarantees mastery of evocation; Li En had a clear example right before him.

"I only know Fireball, but its power seems a bit weak."

For a mercenary mage to earn decent pay and treatment, the prerequisite was always knowing Fireball.

But if the spell's power fails to meet standard intensity, there's a serious problem.

Those who can shape a complete spell model yet fail to achieve standard effects generally have a fundamental flaw in themselves.

His teammates didn't resent him for it; it was common knowledge among them that gnome illusionists struggled with evocation spells.

They accepted this flaw because gnome illusionists were truly exceptional in support roles, especially in illusions that swapped reality with deception.

Gnomes, besides mastering illusions, were often skilled in conjuration too; gnome illusionists typically knew countless tricks like "summoning pigeons" and were all excellent escape artists.

"I'm quite skilled in evocation—especially fire."

Spellcasters have affinities, and they're quite obvious; Li En currently showed strong affinities in evocation, conjuration, and alteration, and the first spells he learned were all from these systems.

"Conjuration, evocation, alteration… a pure artillery mage? Planning to become a battlefield mage?"

"I haven't decided yet—I haven't found a master yet. Probably a fire mage master." Now the adventuring team's gaze toward Li En grew even more peculiar.

Even the irritable dwarf spoke to Li En more quietly.

Confused, Li En specifically caught the lizardman monk and asked for clarification.

"Uh, this is actually a gnome stereotype—he mentioned it back in the team," for some reason, this powerful lizardman monk always instinctively feared and felt uneasy around Li En.

He shared some "fun anecdotes," but the content went beyond gnome stereotypes—it revealed mages' private legends and unwritten rules.

"Each school tends to have affinities—certain personalities suit certain schools. For example, evocation is mostly for short-tempered and straightforward types." Well, case solved.

In gnomes' view, illusion masters are often sensitive and emotionally rich, diviners are introverted and pessimistic; if one's affinity with a school is high, it can, to some extent, reflect the caster's personality.

"Is conjuration about being good at escaping?"

"No—conjuration isn't the rigid, cautious lawyer type; it's tricksters and pranksters, all hard to deal with. Gexim says the common trait of conjuration mages is: never believe a word they say. If you meet one, run as far as you can."

Li En fell silent. It wasn't a very flattering assessment, but considering conjuration masters' notorious reputation across the multiverse, it was hard to refute.

"Are all evocation mages short-tempered? Not necessarily—I've met some very approachable seniors." Li En thought of Luo Yisi and others—they were quite easy to talk to.

"Evocation mages, besides being short-tempered, especially pursue and worship power. They deeply respect those stronger than themselves. Only violent Kuang s respect stronger violent Kuang s."

Li En wanted to argue, but it felt frustratingly true.

He grew curious about the other schools—would they also carry such odd evaluations?

"What about alteration? Are alchemists all patient?"

"Alteration? They're all insane—every personality type, but basically all abnormal!" The gnome mage cheerfully took over.

"Alteration especially produces schizophrenic freaks—every alchemist is a latent madman."

Li En thought of Kuku and nodded unconsciously.

Wait—were all eight schools rated this poorly? Were all mages just Houbeijun of lunatics?

"No—the notoriously difficult ones are conjuration, evocation, alteration, and death—each produces lunatics, Kuangtu, and madmen." The fearless gnome cheerfully educated the mage apprentice on the long-standing, humorous lore of mage affinities.

He didn't notice that Li En, whose affinities in all three schools were maxed out, was now smiling in a dangerously unsettling way.

"Laina, come ride a horse—someone's offering to play with you!"

(End of Chapter)