Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Trial

Previously, Antinoia had tried to deceive him with a lie in the first sentence, only to reveal the truth in the next. Having fallen for it once, Zhao Xu was cautious not to step into the same trap again. Yet Antinoia’s reasoning was so convincing, it struck precisely at his weakness.

“Mentor, then why didn’t that old mage named Mokar accept this spell in his middle age?” Zhao Xu asked, recalling the look the elderly mage gave him—a gaze laden with emotion. To have lived so long and still let someone as inexperienced as Zhao Xu perceive such feelings, it could only mean that emotion was overwhelming.

“It’s simple—he wasn’t qualified,” Antinoia replied.

Zhao Xu almost didn’t react to her words. “That can’t be right, Mentor.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. There are indeed more than one way to achieve immortality. Aside from mages, other professions have their own paths, and even some advancements can grant immortality in a roundabout way. Everything comes at a price. Mokar once believed he had a shot at becoming legendary, so he didn’t want to give up and refused to use alternative methods. Now, the options left to him are quite limited.”

Antinoia looked at Zhao Xu. “Remember, the more pure your path, the easier it is to break through the barrier to become legendary.”

In his past life, Zhao Xu never even met a legendary figure, nor did he interact much with mages above level ten. Yet since arriving at the Floating City, Antinoia had already mentioned the legendary rank several times. To be praised for having the potential for legend was a blessing, but the journey to make that potential reality was arduous.

“Then why didn’t you grant that mage Mokar a low-cost immortality spell?” Zhao Xu couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s blind to his own shortcomings. He’ll always be a weakling at level fourteen, thinking his little secrets are known only to himself,” Antinoia sneered. “From the moment you set foot in the Floating City, the association creates a grid for each of you, storing analyses of your development and records of all your experiences. The things Mokar has done are so disgraceful that none of the leaders in the association respect him.”

Zhao Xu wanted to protest. For them, a level fourteen mage like Mokar was a top-tier powerhouse.

“Mentor, didn’t he address you as ‘teacher’?” Zhao Xu suddenly remembered.

Antinoia laughed coldly. “I was the guide for their cohort, so I ended up with that title. He’s called me ‘teacher’ for decades—it’s infuriating. He keeps harboring the fantasy that if his mentor were me, he would have become legendary long ago.”

Now Zhao Xu understood—the emotion he sensed was jealousy.

Their casual conversation didn’t last much longer. Shortly after, Antinoia received a ‘sending’ notification and teleported away. Before departing, she handed Zhao Xu a blank silver-bound book, instructing him to copy his name onto the cover and drip a drop of blood onto it. According to her, she had infused the specialties “Spell Mastery” and “Strange Foresight” into the book’s spirit, and Zhao Xu only needed to read it for the contents to emerge.

Antinoia wanted Zhao Xu to study on his own, then log off and sleep. After a good night’s rest, he was to log back in, prepare spells, and get ready for the mage duel.

As for “Spell Mastery,” Zhao Xu found it easy thanks to his insightful spellcasting ability. This specialty, which apparently stumped other players for days, took him mere minutes to master. The rest of the day was spent delving into “Strange Foresight.” However, Zhao Xu lacked spell slots for practical experimentation and could only learn through contemplation.

Finally, near eleven at night, he sensed a hollow feeling of loss in his mind. Checking his character sheet, he saw that both “Strange Foresight” and “Spell Mastery” had appeared under ‘defect reward specialties.’ Zhao Xu smiled with satisfaction—he had preliminarily mastered the two specialties and only needed to practice further.

He logged out atop the Obelisk, awakening in the real world. Both of his roommates still wore their helmets, battling in Arthur. The other roommate preparing for graduate school hadn’t yet returned.

Arthur hadn’t yet reached peak popularity in society, nor had it become a blockbuster. But many in their class had joined the game. That’s how university life was—a few students playing a game could easily draw in their peers if it was interesting. Quite a few who initially wanted to prove themselves were humbled by the spellcaster profession, particularly the mage training, and switched to other paths.

Zhao Xu took a box of “Vita Lemon Tea,” went out to the dorm balcony, poked in the straw, and sipped slowly. He was finally a level one mage. Tonight, he’d get a solid eight hours of sleep, and tomorrow, upon logging into Arthur, he would have spell slots.

In his former life, falling ill meant seeking a healer with upgraded medical skills—and even then, there was no guarantee of recovery. But a level three “Remove Disease” spell could cure most ailments. Magic could accomplish so many feats beyond human capability. Zhao Xu continued drinking until the carton was empty, never setting it down.

His thoughts were already drawn toward tomorrow’s duel. Antinoia had told him before leaving: if he passed the test, she would gift him a magic item as a reward for becoming a level one mage. Would the renowned Antinoia carry anything worth less than 10,000 gold pieces? Zhao Xu doubted it. In the early stages, obtaining a 10,000 GP item would be considered a minor artifact among players.

But what form would the mage duel take? Zhao Xu pondered deeply.

He reviewed his list of spell slots—

Zero-level spell slots: 3 (mage)
First-level spell slots: 2 (1 mage, 1 intelligence)

A total of five spell slots: three zero-level, two first-level. With three points of intelligence modifier, he could reserve three spell slots without deciding the exact spells, selecting them when casting. Of course, he allocated these to his first-level spell slots. The remaining task was to choose two zero-level spells to prepare.

Suddenly, Zhao Xu realized that Antinoia had left hastily today, teaching him two specialties, but he still hadn’t assigned his “human racial specialty” and “level one character specialty.” Perhaps what she’d teach him depended on tomorrow’s duel results?

Zhao Xu clicked his tongue—he was always learning through trials, and even in a large organization, there was no such thing as pie falling from the sky.

His gaze grew resolute. Hard work and determination—these were his strengths.