Chapter 123: Copying Scrolls (1/4)

After the lecture, Zhao Xu hurried back to his dormitory to retrieve the *Monster Manual*.

This heavy tome was encased in iron, featuring a massive, blood-red monster eye embedded in the center, with seven or eight protruding, crimson beads set into the contours of its design. Who would have guessed that this object was the legendary high-tier artifact known as the *Monster Manual*?

Having perused the *100 Questions on Transmutation* online, Zhao Xu now understood that for an ordinary wizard to transform into a specific creature, a great deal of tedious work was required beforehand—from understanding the creature's various characteristics to spending a long time in its presence. Only through familiarity and understanding could one achieve such a transformation. This was the secret agony of every wizard who had attempted to master transmutation magic, only to return home defeated. Consequently, the seventeen special cases mentioned in the *100 Questions* had been studied by countless wizards, though each one seemed nearly impossible to achieve.

As Zhao Xu carried the *Monster Manual* in his backpack to Antinoya’s office, the journey felt like the most cautious walk of his life. His name was already inscribed in the core of the Obelisk, so he faced no obstruction as he made his way upstairs. When Antinoya saw him respectfully hand over the artifact, she merely smiled lightly. "Did someone tell you?"

Zhao Xu nodded, though he retorted, "Could it not have been something I discovered myself?"

"Then let me ask you: have you ever used a Knowledge skill to search for information on this book?"

Zhao Xu nodded.

"Have you ever seen a detailed description of this artifact in any classic text?"

Zhao Xu shook his head.

"Exactly. Artifacts possess powerful properties; besides being undetectable, they are also indescribable within the realm of knowledge. Their functions can only be passed down through oral tradition; books can, at best, describe their names."

Antinoya then shoved the artifact *Monster Manual* ruthlessly back into the bookshelf. Zhao Xu felt a pang of heartache watching such a precious item suffer such harsh treatment. However, considering that another sub-artifact, a suit of armor, was left right by the door to greet and bid farewell to visitors, the *Monster Manual* being allowed to lie quietly on a bookshelf was actually quite a decent arrangement.

"If you have time now, let’s go. The 'Scroll Scribing' class is just about to start this afternoon." With that, Antinoya grabbed Zhao Xu and began the teleportation.

Zhao Xu had set his default to accept Antinoya’s teleportation magic, so by the time he regained his senses, they had appeared in a mysterious room. On the central desk lay stacks of blank parchment, specially customized for scribing magic scrolls. Various types of quill pens—mostly goose feathers—were arranged before the desk, along with six or seven bottles of specialized ink ranging from deep black to blue. Incense was burning in the corner of the room, though it lacked the pleasant, refreshing scent of Antinoya’s office.

Zhao Xu understood immediately that this was a room dedicated to scribing scrolls. Compared to memorizing spells or studying magic, scribing required a much more rigorous environment. If memorizing spells while riding in a carriage during an adventure was already difficult, attempting to scribe a scroll there would be a joke.

"The Archivist, as a divine spellcasting class, has advancement standards similar to those of a wizard. You simply need to successfully scribe zero-level and first-level divine spells, and master two abilities: 'Dark Knowledge' and 'Scribe Scroll'."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xu realized it was effectively no different from being a wizard, merely replacing the wizard’s familiar with the 'Dark Knowledge' ability.

"Don't look at me; just listen to the lecture."

"Listen to the lecture?" Zhao Xu asked, surprised.

"Sit down, you fool," Antinoya scolded softly.

Zhao Xu didn't overthink it and pulled out a chair to sit. Suddenly, he noticed two dark red curtains in front of him slowly parting, revealing a massive, transparent glass screen. Below the screen was a giant plaza filled with rows of neat paper-covered desks, set up in a layout similar to the one in his room. It felt as if they were back on Earth, moving desks to a playground for an exam to prevent cheating. At the very front of the plaza hung a large illusionary projection of an hourglass, its sand nearly depleted.

Zhao Xu watched in astonishment, not expecting to find a form of digitalized education in Aether. He then realized that once he sat in this seat, the glass screen in front of him had locked onto his pupils. By controlling his eyes, he could manipulate the screen to display a picture-in-picture view with magnified details. It was just like a massive VR display. The wizard apprentices sitting below did not have this luxury; they remained in the plaza on the first floor, watching the content displayed by the giant illusionary projection at the front.

"Scroll scribing is a course every wizard must take, yet it has little technical depth, so the Association set up this plaza with continuously looping educational content to help everyone learn the feat. These small, private rooms on the second floor are for advanced wizards, and also serve as a trial for this new type of alchemical teaching product. If the results are good, they might promote it for other feats later on."

Zhao Xu now understood that he was essentially in a VIP suite. Just then, the sand in the hourglass ran out, and the projection began playing the lesson, the audio transmitting directly into his room. Zhao Xu quickly manipulated his gaze to project the content onto his glass screen, which immediately occupied nearly a third of the space.

Learning a feat consumes a person’s spirit, and spirit can only be replenished by leveling up. When Zhao Xu was a level 1 wizard, he had sacrificed the ability to scribe scrolls and summon a familiar in exchange for the "Intuitive Spellcaster" ability. Although he no longer had to carry a spellbook, he also couldn't utilize his unused spell slots to scribe scrolls during his spare time like other novice wizards. If a daily spell slot was a fresh fish, scribing it into a scroll was like drying the fish to preserve it for future consumption.

"Mentor, if I have already mastered 'Scribe Scroll,' does this advancement to Archivist mean I only need to master the 'Dark Knowledge' ability?"

Antinoya, standing beside him, was also encountering this alchemical equipment for the first time and was contemplating its principles. Hearing his question, she replied, "Correct."

"Doesn't that just mean wasting a feat?"

Zhao Xu was already listening to the instructional projection; since it was currently just background information, he could spare the focus to chat with Antinoya.

"Theoretically, yes. The first-level ability of the Archivist is 'Scribe Scroll,' rather than gaining an additional feat."

"Then it seems I've actually gained something," Zhao Xu said, thinking to himself that his "Intuitive Spellcaster" ability was well worth it.

"I wouldn't call it a gain," Antinoya said, leaning toward the screen to observe the patterns. "Among advanced wizards, a few have actually mastered ways to swap feats."

"What do you mean?"

"For example, you could swap your 'Scribe Scroll' for a 'Chaos Feat,' and then swap that 'Chaos Feat' for the feat you actually want. That way, the spiritual potential of your two 'Scribe Scroll' feats won't be wasted," Antinoya explained. "This can be achieved through the eighth-level spells *Avoid Chaos* and *Convert to Chaos*. This is what people call 'washing' your character build."

Having resolved to study hard, Zhao Xu felt much better hearing this. Wizards were capable of so many tricks that made warriors like him envious. This was one of the reasons he wanted to defect to the wizard camp—it wasn't just a case of "if you can't beat them, join them." It was primarily because if a warrior wanted to stand a chance against a spellcaster, they had to equip themselves with the various magical items created by spellcasters.

"So, Mentor, my 'Intuitive Spellcaster' ability is still at the cost of two feats, right?" Zhao Xu asked, nodding.

"For the residents of Aether, the cost might be high, but for you, without 'Intuitive Spellcaster,' it would be impossible for you to level up so quickly within a year. After all, you aren't actually that smart," Antinoya remarked mercilessly.

"Mentor, is there something significant about 'one year'?" Zhao Xu couldn't help but ask.

"It involves a prophecy. For now, just focus on leveling up as much as you can." Antinoya offered no further explanation.

By then, the illusionary projection had begun to cover the keys to scroll scribing, and Zhao Xu’s full attention was drawn in. On the plaza below, several player wizard apprentices were frantically scribbling with their pens, recording the key points of the lecture. For them, missing this session meant it wouldn't be easy to get another slot. Only in this classroom could they use these materials for free, which made them listen even more attentively than they had ever done in school back on Earth.

"Scribe Scroll," like "Brew Potion" and "Craft Wand," was a sub-category of item creation feats. The sale price of a successfully scribed scroll was the spell level multiplied by the caster level, multiplied by a base of 25 gold pieces. Thus, a first-level spell scroll was estimated to sell for 1*1*25 = 25 GP, while a zero-level scroll sold for half that, at 12.5 GP. The manufacturing process cost about half of the sale price. Therefore, for Zhao Xu to scribe a first-level scroll, in addition to consuming the corresponding spell slot, he had to spend 12.5 GP in materials. More importantly, it would consume his experience points, slowing his leveling speed. Considering that ten crossbow bolts cost only 1 GP, a single first-level scroll costing 12.5 GP in materials meant that using a scroll to cast a *Magic Missile* was quite an expensive affair.

For this reason, wizards typically only scribed or purchased scrolls of spells they didn't usually prepare. Like the *Detect Secret Doors* spell Zhao Xu used while adventuring in the dungeon—no one in their right mind would prepare that spell unless they were specifically heading into a dungeon. But things were unpredictable, and one never knew what might happen, so scrolls remained a vital tool for wizards.

Now that Zhao Xu had learned the "Scribe Scroll" ability, he had finally filled in that gap in his capabilities. According to the data compiled by wizards, scribing a scroll worth 1,000 GP took about one day. A legendary ninth-level scroll worth 3,000 GP would take three days. For anything under 1,000 GP—such as the simplest first and zero-level scrolls—the minimum time was one hour. This meant Zhao Xu would likely have to light candles and stay up late in the future to scribe these scrolls. Such was the fate of wizards in Aether.

Zhao Xu sighed deeply, looking at the rather refined yet unfamiliar quill pen. The quill had been complained about countless times on the forums; most players were accustomed to gel pens, and even pencils or ballpoints were rarely used. To scribe a scroll, one was forced to use these specific quills, which frustrated every player. They had tried using their own charcoal pens, but even when dipped in ink, the scrolls produced had no power whatsoever. This was because the quills were produced by a specially bred type of goose, and the ink was a stable formula perfected over thousands of years as an exclusive, monopolized product of the Wizard Association. It was not so easy to replicate the same effect.

So, even if the quill felt uncomfortable and inconvenient, Zhao Xu had no choice but to overcome it. Just as he picked up the quill, Antinoya spoke: "Let's play a little game."

With a flick of her hand, a quill traced an arc and landed in front of Zhao Xu, where it stood upright in mid-air.

"This is an automatic shorthand quill."