Chapter 120: The Transfiguration Lecture

The next day, after preparing some spells related to reading magic, Zhao Xu headed to the academic forum in the Floating City to attend a lecture.

Generally speaking, once novice mages graduate in the Floating City—whether they are residents of Arthur or players—many who choose the research path seek out a mentor to collaborate on spell research.

Mentors provide learning resources to novice mages, who in turn serve as research labor, handling subsidiary tasks within the mentor’s projects. This mutually beneficial relationship has long been the norm in the Floating City.

Only mages who have risen to the mid-level backbone rank are qualified to apply for research facilities in the Floating City and serve as project mentors, with limited spots available for their assistants.

If those first-level mages who have graduated successfully fail to find a way in or lack assistant qualifications, they are generally given a three-month deadline to leave. This applies to players as well.

In Zhao Xu’s case, during this first month, he still saw many players coming and going. After another three months, at least half of the player population would be gone, even considering new recruits.

This structure—senior mages directing mid-level backbone mages, who in turn direct novice mages—forms a pyramid in the Floating City, with the hidden influence of mage families acting as a parallel, subtle power line.

Only someone like Zhao Xu, who had a mentor approach him on the very first day for training, could finish his training without the anxiety of choosing a career path, deciding on research topics, or figuring out how to promote himself.

The academic forum lectures are a benefit provided by the Mage Association headquarters to all resident mages in the Floating City.

The Association organizes daily lectures where senior and even legendary mages share their research, imparting ideas while indirectly validating their theories.

Antinoya’s private lessons for Zhao Xu were usually scheduled in the afternoon or evening, leaving mornings for his own study.

Zhao Xu had noticed on the Floating City’s lecture schedule that this morning’s topic was “Transmutation Spells,” so he arrived early.

Although he had already experienced a level-nine transmutation spell called “Polymorph” two days prior, he still had many details he wished to understand.

He had always found his state during that moment puzzling.

When transformed into the Seraph Servant, he suddenly reverted to the mindset of a warrior from his past life, as if standing on a battlefield, only thinking about wielding his weapon to slaughter all enemies.

At that moment, Zhao Xu felt as if he were controlling a max-level character.

This mysterious ability fascinated him somewhat.

Especially since at level three, he would soon encounter level-two arcane transformation spells.

Though he was not a specialist mage but a generalist, the number of advanced spells he could learn was no less than that of level-one spells, so he needed to understand them to prioritize effectively.

Antinoya seldom interfered with his choice of spells, mostly allowing him to develop naturally.

“Ticket?” A server standing at the door bowed respectfully to Zhao Xu as he approached.

Compared to apprentice mages, someone like Zhao Xu who had been promoted to level one was already part of the power structure, albeit at its lowest tier.

Zhao Xu suddenly felt embarrassed; he had completely forgotten about this.

Academic forum lectures often involved discussions, and many senior mages disliked noisy environments.

Frequently, popular lectures required tickets for entry.

When Zhao Xu was still an apprentice, Antinoya had filtered a list of lectures for him to attend, some of which required tickets.

Hearing the server’s question, Zhao Xu realized he had forgotten that this particular lecture was popular and required a ticket.

But if he went back to the Association’s affairs office to apply for a ticket and then hurried back, it would take over half an hour.

“Sorry, sir mage, please come in,” a middle-aged man in a mage’s robe, who looked like an apprentice but was standing at the door, hurried over. Noticing Zhao Xu’s silver-framed badge and that he was stopped, he quickly intervened.

Zhao Xu saw the silver plaque on the man’s chest, marked with logistics management, and understood that this person was the organizer of the lecture.

Since the man directly invited him in, Zhao Xu didn’t say more, though he sensed something deeper.

Squinting his eyes and feigning indifference as he glanced at Zhao Xu’s badge, the middle-aged apprentice warmly said, “Greetings, Mage Midsummer. The seats without number labels inside are flexible and open. I’ll escort you in.”

Zhao Xu was unaccustomed to such warm hospitality and quickly waved his hand off.

It was like when he went to a hot pot restaurant and just wanted to be left alone quietly.

The middle-aged apprentice continued to watch Zhao Xu until his figure disappeared into the bustling crowd inside the forum.

Only then did he turn and glare fiercely at the two servers who had stopped Zhao Xu earlier.

“Didn’t I tell you that any mage with a badge and a plate behind it is a privileged class that can’t be blocked? Those unnumbered seats in this forum are reserved for them. We’d rather leave them empty than issue tickets to others.”

One young female server softly protested, “Supervisor, didn’t you say only those with gold-edged chips on their badges can’t be stopped? This mage’s badge is silver-edged. Shouldn’t he rank lower?”

“How dare you talk back! Open your eyes and look carefully—that’s mithril! More valuable than gold! It means a rank above gold-edged badges. Your distant uncle just barely got a Floating City mentor position last month, and his badge has only a silver-edged chip, understand?”

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The Floating City’s academic forums had many halls arranged according to lecture themes. Some even had tables loaded with alchemical equipment for experiments.

The forum Zhao Xu attended was laid out like a theater, similar to the Awakening Hall, with tiers of seats rising toward the back and a spacious whiteboard at the front stage.

Most seats were already occupied in advance. Today’s speaker was a level-nine ring mage. Many level-one or two novices who managed to snag tickets came to make their presence known.

Of course, they did not expect to be accepted as apprentices by a level-nine ring mage, but with so many disciples present, a mere glance from the master could result in a promising level-one mage being recruited as an assistant.

Zhao Xu paid little attention to this. Seeing that the large, cushioned chairs in the front row were unnumbered and thus open for him to sit in, he took one and settled down.

As time passed, the hall gradually filled from about 70–80% to full capacity.

Suddenly, a sweat-drenched, stout mage hurried into the hall, still gasping for breath. He found that the hall was nearly full, and given his size, there was no room in the regular seats.

He quickly scanned the unnumbered seats, which novice mages sometimes mistakenly occupied, though these seats were rarely full.

The proud stout mage swept his gaze across the front row.

Not worth provoking, not worth provoking, not worth provoking...

He categorized everyone he saw as level-seven or eight ring mages who could easily teach him a lesson.

Huh?

At the end of the row, he noticed a strange face—Zhao Xu.

Worth provoking?

He considered which influential family this newcomer might hail from, only to see that beneath Zhao Xu’s standard-issue robe was a badge marking him as a level-one mage.

This obvious mark was why many first-level mages preferred to commission new robes rather than wear the free standardized robes issued by the Floating City.

The stout mage was pleased. Regardless of the powerhouse lineage, low-level mages should yield to higher-ranking ones. After all, his own family ranked among the top hundred mage families in the Floating City.

“Li—” The stout mage began to speak to Zhao Xu, but the rest of the words caught in his throat.

He had just noticed the mithril chip on Zhao Xu’s mage badge.

A cold sweat trickled down his back.

“Hmm? Is there something you need?” Zhao Xu, curious, asked, as the stout mage was blocking his way just as the lecture was about to begin.

“Oh, nothing. Mr. Midsummer, I just felt an instant connection with you. Do you mind if I sit next to you to bask in your presence?” the stout mage Lin Qi replied with a flattering smile, already pulling a folding stool from his storage pouch.

It wasn’t that Lin Qi couldn’t conjure a comfortable seat; rather, with so many senior mages gathered here—including two seated just two seats away from Zhao Xu, experts in enchantments and transformations—he dared not show off his skills and risk being corrected and having to submit a project report.

Zhao Xu thought to himself, “He hasn’t even asked yet, but he’s already sitting down.”

“Mr. Midsummer, hello. I’m Lin Qi, a level-five mage.” Lin Qi flashed his bright white teeth as he introduced himself.

He even shook his chest to make his slightly greasy badge move, causing the five rings to weave around each other.

Zhao Xu turned slightly and nodded in return. “Zhao Xu, level one.”

“I wonder who your teacher is, young brother. Could it be Mage Norchi, who is giving today’s lecture? I heard he recently developed a low-level simulacrum spell that can create an extremely realistic duplicate using only low-level magic?” Lin Qi, sensing Zhao Xu’s openness to conversation, pressed on eagerly with a playful grin.

Zhao Xu, young yet wearing a badge with a mithril chip, stirred great curiosity in Lin Qi, who claimed to run the Floating City’s top information hub.

Hearing this, Zhao Xu furrowed his brows slightly and asked, “Why do all the male mages I meet seem as optimistic as you?”

There was Lei An, considered one, and En Fashi, half one—Lin Qi’s level of optimism was probably one and a half—

A joker.

“Ah, researching spells is exhausting. If you’re not cheerful, it’s easy to become withdrawn,” Lin Qi chuckled, his cheeks folding as his face wrinkled.

Just then, Norchi, the lecture’s mentor, entered through the main door.

The previously noisy hall fell silent.

Norchi looked no older than fifty, with stern eyebrows and a thoroughly unapproachable demeanor.

He adjusted the voice amplifier on the podium, while golems, invisible servants, and servers stood ready nearby.

“The Association notified me yesterday on short notice to give this lecture. I forgot to inform them, but it’s not too late now. I ask those with intelligence below 17 to please leave. You’d only be wasting your time here.”