Chapter 89: The Mage

The Mage Street of Huicheng likely predates the city itself.

Its predecessor was a black market for extraordinary materials, an off-site bazaar directly rivaling underground ruins.

Many materials, monsters, and demonic corpses unearthed underground required rapid processing; thus, professional caravans, researchers, and material seekers naturally arrived.

To maintain order at the market, at least some appraisal of these materials required mages—many of whom either sought materials or exchanged knowledge with peers—soon gathered here.

The prosperity of resource cities is often era-dependent: mining towns, oil towns, even fishing villages rise with new technological demands of a new age, and decline with its passing. During its ascent, it continuously draws more population, capital, and investors, becoming a national focal point.

Among these new arrivals, the proportion of mages was terrifyingly high.

As researchers, mages' demand for materials was endless, and their outputs, in turn, attracted more extraordinary beings to trade here.

Predictably, as long as the underground ruins continued to yield steadily, this place would remain prosperous.

In fact, despite the kingdom's decline and the changing times, Mage Street did not grow desolate—instead, this "pearl on the crown" became even more brilliant and vital, expanding at least five times in just twenty years.

"Dong! Dong! Dong!"

The church bell rang—the time had reached nine in the morning, the start of a busy day.

"Of every thousand apprentices, only a handful become full mages; the ratio of Grand Mages among mages has never exceeded one percent. I don't expect many of you to become qualified mages, let alone Grand Mages—I only ask you not to embarrass me." The mage course had begun.

The shimmering pale-gold church was a temple without gods.

It had once been the core of Huicheng when it was still a town, a joint base for many true deities' churches; as the city grew, each church built its own chapel, leaving this place to become the administrative district of Mage Street.

The police station, the Arcane Knights Order (Mage Street's subordinate security force), and the fire brigade all stationed here. Now, in one of its side halls, clear voices of recitation and teaching echoed.

The modest room was a modified former preaching chamber. Facing the lecturer's podium stood only seven apprentices, two of whom had already met before.

Not everyone could become an apprentice through a crash course (Accelerated Basic Mage Knowledge Class); most, after completing the process, chose self-study to hone their skills, then passed an exam to officially "join the rolls."

In a sense, you could skip this class entirely and self-study—but going through this process was like graduating from a formal academy, gilding your reputation.

Wealthy, well-connected youths often came a second, third, or even more times—to curry favor with a teacher or accelerate their progress.

Luo Yisi had even seen one student attend five times; he was finally expelled after bringing too much shame upon his family.

"One is absent. Oh, that one." Luo Yisi planned to ignore the blank on the list.

Luo Yisi had reviewed the records—this cohort should have eight apprentices. As for who was missing, it was obvious.

"Clang! Clang!"

Before the voice arrived, heavy metal boots struck the floor.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm late."

Upon opening the door, the clanking metallic armor made the mages instinctively frown.

"So bright." The apprentices were blinded by the reflected sunlight.

"So shiny." The light wasn't just from the sun—it was the overly dazzling silver armor.

Bright and glittering—that was likely the first reaction to seeing the man at the door.

Due to the building's design, the church's semi-transparent windows caused sunlight to bounce and concentrate on the newcomer's silver armor—this had once been the preacher's position.

The already expensive new armor, under this specialized lighting system, appeared even more glittering, almost sacred.

Especially with the faint aura of light visibly surrounding him.

The radiant glow that became more pronounced in sunlight—known as the "sound effect" inherently possessed by Paladins—was widely recognized.

The more devout and powerful the Paladin, the more intense the glow; this one was already blinding—almost exaggerated.

Yet now, this Paladin, who should have been enforcing law outside, bowed slightly toward the podium in apology.

"Sorry I'm late. I'm the apprentice Li En Sudar."

Before the instructor could react, the apprentices, previously tense, couldn't hold back.

Wait—this armor, and that sword on your back—you're here as a mage apprentice? Did you get the wrong room? We thought you were here to arrest someone!

One apprentice even secretly smirked. Master Luo Yisi wasn't easy to deal with; as a third-ring mage, he had no reason to show deference to common nobles or knights.

Last time someone was late, they were scolded harshly and forced to stand for the entire class.

"Hmm, sit down quickly. It's fine, we just started." Yet the usually stern instructor now seemed unusually gentle, kind.

The returning apprentice froze—was this really the explosive pyromancer he remembered?!

Naturally, this bizarre scene made all the apprentices remember the man before them.

"Who is he?"

"Sudar? That Sudar?"

Li En, though already gaining fame in certain circles, was still a newcomer to the city, less than a month in, unknown to most.

But the way the furious teacher reacted—clearly, this man was no ordinary person.

Li En didn't cause further trouble. He walked to the back and sat down, the wooden chair creaking loudly.

"Crack." It snapped outright.

"Boom!" He crashed onto the floor.

Clearly, the church's wooden chairs weren't designed for someone in full armor.

This disrupted the classroom order. Master Luo should say something now—at least criticize him.

But Master Luo above seemed to see nothing, smiling calmly as he continued teaching. The returning apprentice was stunned—he'd completed the full course before and never seen Master Luo so patient. Pyromancers were notoriously short-tempered.

"... agic is a refined art, a form of knowledge." Luo Yisi smiled warmly, his tone gentle, yet his gaze completely ignored the knight whose presence was overwhelmingly dominant.

Alright, the apprentices understood—this man, even the teacher dared not offend.

In fact, when Luo Yisi saw this man's file, he'd immediately declared he couldn't offend him—better to swap with someone else.

"Classical Oath Paladin? Someone still exists like that in this age? Wait—a twenty-year-old Oath Grand Knight? Are you joking?!" Grand Knights and Grand Warriors were typically over forty. At twenty? Was he a divine-blooded child of the gods, or some kingdom's prince with unlimited resources?

If such a monster were truly common-born, he should appear in epic tales.

In the future, he'd likely be a failed dragon-slayer—a misfortune, not someone a third-ring mage like Luo should provoke.

As he kept reading, Luo Yisi's urge to swap classes grew stronger.

"Recorded: Took a fireball spell head-on, unharmed, walked forward, and punched the caster into critical injury." Took a third-ring or lower first-tier area attack spell? Endured artillery-level explosion? What kind of stunt was this? And unharmed?

"Shattered magical missiles with a roar? Am I reading a fairy tale? Wait—multiple eyewitnesses, one hundred percent authentic?" Luo Yisi was numb. Clearly, this man was a professional mage-killer.

He might have once been a Judge—a Paladin branch dedicated to hunting evil wizards.

"Recorded: Killed a super-strong monster and cultists? And a top-tier pseudo-dragon Grand Warrior died there—he walked out alive?" Those who understood never looked at "reasons"; they never underestimated a victor due to luck.

Luo Yisi only cared about results: those who survived were stronger.

Having read the file, Luo Yisi now easily maintained a calm, steady teaching demeanor—not a single thought of reprimanding the knight.

He merely glanced—the man quietly stood up to repair the chair, clearly needing no help.

Luo Yisi genuinely feared the knight might fly into a rage and tear him apart.

After all, he himself was third-ring, just like the unlucky caster, and his strongest spell was also fireball.

If your lateness or attire was deliberate provocation—saying I, Luo Yisi, am unworthy to teach you—then yes, I truly am unworthy! Please ignore me.

Luo Yisi dared not offend Li En at all—even though this man was a degenerate, even though the file said he'd lost his power. No! There was still holy light on him—this file was clearly wrong.

After thinking, Luo Yisi didn't believe the data was faulty—he simply believed this man exceeded even his maximum estimate.

"Someone capable of those absurd feats cannot be judged by common sense. He could ascend to heaven or become a god—as long as he doesn't disrupt my class and salary."

The truth was simple: Why had this man come here as a mage apprentice? Why did he still dress like a knight? Did it concern a lowly wage-earning mage like him?

Perhaps one day he'd soar again. A wage-earning mage like him was better off not making enemies.

"Bad luck." But Li En himself hadn't meant to be so conspicuous—he never wanted such a flashy debut.

He'd originally come dressed in a plain apprentice robe; logically, arriving early, he shouldn't have been late.

"Wait—this person, the blank apprentice robe, and that puppet on his back..." Someone suddenly recognized him.

"Metal upright lizard! Yes! It's him!" The main reason was the little creature hopping on his back.

Thus, shortly after entering Mage Street, Li En received a "warm welcome."

Fortunately, he reacted quickly—his smoke bomb technique had become proficient—and he fled, changed clothes, and arrived late via a roundabout route.

"Careless." Normally, Li En wouldn't forget the trouble he'd caused the day before.

But the ancestral soul's memories inherited in his dream had overwhelmed him—he'd experienced too much, and upon waking, felt as if "a long time" had passed.

This sense of temporal dislocation made Li En momentarily confused about his current goals; it took him a while to remember he had class today.

"I must pay attention to this—might miss important tasks. Better take more notes."

He hadn't come to intimidate the teacher. Seeing the instructor begin, he quietly opened his notebook and stood to listen.

No choice—the chair was now shattered into pieces, and he'd likely have to pay for it.

"... ages are not tools, nor weapons of war. Even if many of you are here only for the power of spells, they are, in truth, inheritors of knowledge."

The first lesson rarely began with direct instruction—it always started with "empty talk" from the textbook.

The apprentices below didn't care; the teacher above wasn't serious. But Li En knew—the phrase "inheritor of knowledge" carried immense weight.

Before receiving the ancestral soul's legacy, Li En would have dismissed it as empty words. Now, he recorded it carefully.

Li En's attentive listening, showing respect, eased the instructor's tension.

Clearly, he wasn't here to cause trouble. From this moment, Luo Yisi's voice grew even steadier.

"... f you ever reach the second ring, your mentor will require you to study an additional subject—art, arcane history, religion, anything. Only then will you truly grasp the importance of scholarship. Oh, and you can't choose math or Draconic—those are mandatory. So prepare to go bald."

First-ring mages build foundations; second-ring mages broaden their horizons, studying auxiliary disciplines to lay groundwork for greater advancement.

But rules are rules, practice is practice—the reality is most low-rank mages ignore this, treating electives as optional absences.

"Excellent! Excellent! Our era doesn't have this."

Ku Ku, eavesdropping, seemed pleased with this improvement—unaware most students wouldn't take it seriously.

The reality was, most mages only returned to catch up on these subjects after hitting a mid- or high-rank bottleneck—and even then, few truly felt something was wrong.

Even though building a solid foundation early was clearly more efficient, the wrong path had become the accepted one, rendering part of the curriculum designers' effort useless.

At the Third Ring, students usually choose a specialized field—anything from Evocation to Divination is acceptable, but Necromancy is not recommended; its main career paths are graveyards and prisons.

Luo Yisi made his lessons as light and entertaining as possible, hoping these required electives might stick in the apprentices' minds just a little.

The first lesson was a broad overview of a mage's career, introducing future courses to give apprentices a general sense of what lay ahead.

After that, classes came roughly every three or four days, concluding within a month to a month and a half. Luo Yisi's teaching style resembled that of a university professor.

I'll highlight key points during class; you study them on your own time, and in the next session, I'll mark new ones—you keep following my lead.

Checks? There are none. How well you learn is your own business; there's just a final exam at the end.

Those who keep up—or even surpass the pace—move on to the next round of selection and assignment.

And on this first day, they already began handing out reading lists.

Li En grew more and more numb; the reading list was absurdly long.

"From math to history, from humanities to engineering—is this really how you learn magic?" Li En was truly grateful his purse hadn't emptied yet—books here were insanely expensive.

But the books Luo Yisi mentioned now were clearly core courses—no way to avoid them—and you'd have to pass exams to earn your grades.

"Kuku, what do you think? Compared to your time?" During a break in the lesson, Li En asked casually.

"Excellent, very structured—more suitable for beginners and more forward-looking than ours," Kuku said, satisfied; at least now, the system seemed more organized and better suited to training newcomers.

What he'd lacked most back then was precisely these "electives" and "common knowledge"—crucial for future study, yet utterly untaught in his day.

Later, he'd spent tremendous effort just to catch up on those courses.

Though he clearly felt progress had been made, Kuku still ended with a sour remark.

"Too cold! Not as good as my old teacher! Boring! Dull!"

"Mm-hmm." What else could Li En say? He nodded.

(End of Chapter)