The two figures faced each other. One was a boy not even eleven years old, and the other was a tall man with long, unkempt chestnut brown hair and a bushy beard that hadn't seen a trim in months. His bloodshot eyes told tales of sleepless nights."Wait, are you the one the Barren sent to hunt me down? He never asked you to kill me, did he?" Caster's eyes widened in realization.The man furrowed his brows, straightening slightly as he swung a throwing knife between his fingers."Nice. I can see that you have already figured it out. It doesn't matter, right? No one has to know what happens. There are plenty of dangerous beasts in this forest," he said, stepping closer.Caster backed away, understanding the man's intention. Despite his original orders, the man wanted him dead."Are you out of your mind? Killing a noble's son? Even if I'm in an unknown land, I'm still a noble! You'll pay for this!" Caster shouted, desperation in his voice.Killing nobles was a grave offense. Any commoner
Caster stumbled into a clearing, surrounded by nothing but green grass. Fear surged through him as he tried to bolt to the side, hoping to make it back to the cover of the trees. A sharp pain shot through his leg, and he fell to the ground. He lay there groaning in agony. A throwing knife was lodged in his calf."I finally got you. Look at you now; you have run out of luck, you fool. I watched how they hailed you as the monster slayer but only if they knew you were just a loser," the man taunted, advancing with more throwing knives hidden in his robe.Ignoring the searing pain, Caster yanked the knife from his leg. Adrenaline dulled the pain enough for him to try standing, but he could only limp forward. Desperation fueled his next move; he drew his short sword and faced his pursuer."Heh, at least you have some backbone, kid," the man sneered, closing the distance. Caster tried to back away while chanting a mana arrow spell, his short sword raised in defense.The man was too fast.
Every time the man tried to counter Elvis's heavy swings, Andem, the wolf man, would leap from a blind spot, forcing him to dodge. Caleb's arrows added to his troubles."Do we know this guy?" Elvis asked, glaring at their opponent."I'll explain later. Just focus on the fight... and be careful," Caster shouted from the back, with Caleb standing protectively nearby."Even if about three of you are against me, a tier 1 is still a tier 1!" the man yelled, raising his rapier. Elvis and Andem moved in as Elvis attacked from the front while Andem tried to strike from behind. Just then, the man's feet glowed green, and his body blurred.Elvis and Andem struck empty air as the man used a movement skill, making his speed unpredictable. He reappeared behind Andem, aiming his glowing saber at her heart. Andem tried to parry with his dagger but was too slow. A semi-transparent bubble of mana appeared around her just in time."Mana Shield!" Caster shouted, pouring extra mana into the shield. Cas
The messenger tasked with updating Barren was now dead, his lifeless body sprawled on the green grass, drenched in his own blood and torn flesh. Elvis, a fellow party member, had delivered a fatal blow to his head, causing it to burst apart like an overripe fruit. While the group tended to their injuries and rifled through the dead man's possessions, Caster clarified his identity. "Should we address you as Sir Caster from now on?" Caleb's sarcastic remark met Caster's furrowed brows. He had disclosed that he was the son of a great mage, here to make his way. "Just joking, no need for the look," Caleb said, sensing his irritation. To his surprise, the group seemed unbothered by his noble connections. He had expected anger or at least concern, as commoners typically preferred to avoid noble affairs."Mighty Lord Caster, slayer of monsters!" Elvis's mocking bow from where he leaned against a tree made Caster sigh, ignoring his antics. He examined the man's enchanted sword, noting its
The real challenge lay in accurately reproducing the magic diagram, not just copying it directly. The lesser fire orb magic, while simpler than the detonation magic he had previously worked on, still required careful attention to detail. The diagram had to be much smaller to fit on the parchment.Caster couldn't just trace the large schematic directly. Instead, he had to guide the magical ink with the quill, creating many tiny mana pathways between all the components. These components, essential for the magic, included the basic fire magic at the center, elements shaping it into an orb, and parts regulating the mana flow to prevent the spell from collapsing or exploding. The last part acted like a control system, similar to a spell's program."Wait... these parts resemble logic gates and circuits. Does magic use binary?" he wondered.Caster realized that the magic components were strikingly similar to circuitry parts like transistors and resistors. In place of physical components, t
Caster stood still, absorbing the notifications. He quickly brought up his status window, curious about his new title."A magic scholar is someone knowledgeable in the language of magic, capable of creating or comprehending spells," the description read."Understanding my ass," Caster shouted in frustration. "I just copied what my skill showed me! Does this title even mean anything?""Hmm... but that 1000 experience points though... If I recast other magic, will I get the same amount?" He thought out loud.The thought of gaining such a substantial amount of experience points thrilled him. It could really help him level up hight if he changed classes strategically, even though he'd lose some XP in the process."I'll lose half of them... That's a shame... Still, this is a remarkable discovery!"His debugging skill had opened a new avenue for rapid experience gain. All he needed now was access to more magical items, redraw improved schematics, and accumulate more experience.His unique
The real challenge lay in accurately reproducing the magic diagram, rather than simply copying it directly. Although the lesser fire orb magic was simpler compared to the detonation magic Caster had previously worked on, it still required meticulous attention to detail. Scaling down the diagram to fit on the parchment was crucial.He couldn't merely trace the large schematic. Instead, he had to guide the magical ink with the quill, creating numerous tiny mana pathways between all the components. These components included the core fire magic, elements shaping it into an orb, and mechanisms regulating mana flow to prevent spell collapse or explosion. The final part acted like a control system, akin to a spell's "program.""Wait... these parts resemble logic gates and circuits. Does magic use binary?" he wondered aloud.He realized that the magic components bore a striking resemblance to circuitry components like transistors and resistors. However, instead of physical components, these
Caster woke up at dawn, feeling stiff from sleeping on the floor instead of his bed. Rubbing his sore neck, he contemplated the ache and wondered if this was what old age felt like. The sun was just beginning to rise, indicating he had some time before breakfast at the inn. Caster began to think about the men who he was together with.He hoped that they had successfully sold the treasure they took from the man who had attacked him the day before.Reviewing his new skills, he noted two were for crafting. The first one was quite basic for a Mana Scribe, but the second one which was magic based enticed him all the more. It appeared more offensive compared to typical crafting skills. Caster was puzzled over receiving Basic Magic Mastery, a skill different from the magiccraft necessary for advancing to Mage and requiring a blacksmith background.Deciding to check his stats, he opened his status screen:Name: Caster Level: 28Tier 1 Mage Level 25 [Secondary] Tier 1 Magic Mana Scribe Lev
Caster was mature enough to see the world as it was. He understood that most younger folk saw it through a lens of hope and ambition, their dreams of treasure and fame setting them apart from his more grounded approach. Some were from humble beginnings: sons and daughters of farmers; young people from families that were better off but that had fallen on hard times and now were boy or girl determined to claw back some of that perceived lost respect, no matter the price."My jaw twisted into a small smirk as I imagined their wide eyes and wide, baseless plans and all they think is, ‘Get some gold, a shiny sword, you’ll be a hero.’" It was the same story, time and again: things that were often only dreams, rarely aligning with reality.Lowfield had been a deliberate choice despite what she had become. Knowing full well it wouldn’t be clear, he took the fast route but he took the fast route. The road taught him about its steep hills, its rocky passages and on occasion, the unfriendly tra
The early morning breeze bit into the cloak and the underdress at Caster’s shoulders as he walked the narrow cobblestone path into Lowfield. Today he had gotten rid of his imposing helmet and heavy armor. Dawn's fresh smell of its own earth together mingling with the familiar taste of his workshop on his clothes. He wasn’t hiding his identity, or painful silence had been left behind, today. Today was about remembering the life that kept breathing after his magesmith-tools stopped.The caravan had added liveliness to the town which reminded me of festival time, the town was waking up. Some of the faces settling onboard Caster recognised—newcomers amongst the adventurers. With fresh ambitions and none of the resolve yet tested, they walked on their own journey wide eyed and reminded him of the person he used to be. He watched the newcomers with a kind of quiet amusement, catching snippets of eager chatter about dungeons and imagined battles, bravado thick in the air.A young man, prob
Casting his small treaty of provisions, a load of stale bread crusts, some wrinkled fruits, and a hard wedge of cheese that once lived on a more hospitable broke surviving clunk to clunk. He made a gagging noise as he peered at the dried meat again and poked it with distaste. "Wouldn't it kill the fates to give me a real meal?" Just once. Something hot, even." He sneaked a look over at where a stove should be, the ones that made his mouth water when a hearty stew bubbled away. For a moment he smirked, "No stove yet … maybe I could conjure a magical pan up." "Oil might be asking for a miracle."Peering out the window he squinted at the city in the early light. Carts creaked along cobbled paths and vendors hawked fresh fish and newly baked bread in the place I had walked into, even now. He’d done a lot with the house in the week that he’d been there, turning it into something livable, barely. "What the hell?' he murmured, 'Doors actually close now' he concluded feeling a bit more proud
Caster adjusted his grip and took a close look at his work, scrutinizing every line and angle of the newly crafted weapon handle. The wood was tough but carefully sanded, bearing faint, meticulous patterns he had engraved over hours of work. "Alright," he muttered, almost to himself. "Let's see if this holds up."He lowered his gaze to the small, rough-edged mana stone beside him. Its surface shimmered faintly, a testament to the raw energy that pulsed within it. With precision, he made a tiny opening at the base of the handle, using one of his tools to keep the gap just wide enough for the stone to fit snugly. Holding his breath, Caster slid the stone into place, his hand steady even as he felt the twinge of nervousness in his gut. One wrong move, one crack, and the handle would split, and the entire effort would be wasted. He exhaled, the pressure off his shoulders as the stone was secure. He picked up a little hammer and taps the opening closed, sealing the stone.Caster was co
Caster’s gaze shifted between his rough tools and the iron-cast walls around him. The dim, flickering light from a lone torch cast dancing shadows on his workbench, where the worn mace lay, waiting. Each scuff and nick in the wood handle held a tale of its own; it wasn’t just a tool but a companion, a weapon that had been through as much as he had. And here he was, weighing its life and usefulness like a weary healer judging the last pulse of an old patient.He ran his hand over the handle one last time, tracing the grains and grooves with a practiced eye. “Adding a stone’s one thing,” he muttered. “But what it needs is stability.” His fingers slid to a small crack, an old fracture that hadn’t yet spread but threatened to. “If that widens… this thing’s done.”His hands worked without thought, reaching into the assortment of stones, metals, and powders he had scavenged over time. His fingers found a small, rough mana stone, and he rolled it between his fingers, feeling its faint warm
Caster knocked metal hard on metal, the sound reverberating in the almost pitch black workshop. With every hook an aura of magical energy was discharged providing brief glimpses of light on the roughly completed stone walls. It smelled of hot metal and a low, tense buzz, which seemed to say that the room itself had tensed to watch him.Caster, still young but hardened by the trials of his craft, stood poised over his latest project: a shield, its shape still raw but which is already starting to look graceful. Though not tall and still somewhat thin, he seemed to possess good illating strength, every punch he landed being calculated. Each movement was accompanied by complex magical ripples, which Indragni had seen on the surface of the shield before a layer of runes he more or less sketched with great detail. In addition to a frown a look of intense concentration took over his face only to be interrupted the occasional lean back to examine the painting.After several more strikes, he
Caster climbed the winding stone stairs leading upward from the basement of Lamba fortress as the red rays of the morning sun spread across Lowfield. He sighed as he breathed in the crisp morning air and hours spent wading through dim and damp caverns had taken a toll on him. The bustle outside was a stark contrast to the quiet gloom below. Merchants, hawkers, and small-time dealers filled the open area, all eager to cater to the steady stream of adventurers drawn to the dungeon.“Potion for mana, sir?” called a nearby merchant, brandishing a small flask that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Clearly, the man wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to sell.He gave her the distinct pleasure of a faint smile and a polite shake of his head. “Not today, but thanks.” The merchant glanced up as he passed saying “As he passed his gaze fell on a young boy standing beside the merchant with his hands outstretched each palm held small stones of different colors.”“Lucky charms,” the boy put out
Caster climbed the winding stairs stone leading upward from the basement of Lamba fortress as the red rays of the morning sun spread across Lowfield. He sighed as he breathed in the crisp morning air and hours spent wading through dim and damp caverns has taken a toll on him. The bustle outside was a stark contrast to the quiet gloom below. Merchants, hawkers, and small-time dealers filled the open area, all eager to cater to the steady stream of adventurers drawn to the dungeon.“Potion for mana, sir?” called a nearby merchant, brandishing a small flask that shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Clearly, the man wasn’t going to miss any opportunity to sell.He gave her the distinct pleasure of a faint smile and a polite shake of his head. “Not today, but thanks.” The merchant glanced up as he passed saying “As he passed his gaze fell on a young boy standing beside the merchant with his hands outstretched each palm held small stones of different colors.”“Lucky charms,” the boy put out
Caster met them along the way quite often, which slowed down his progress. As he fought, he had to wait for them to finish before he could move on. “Hey, Caster! Need a hand?” one adventurer called out, swinging a sword at a monster.“No thanks! I’m good,” Caster replied, keeping his eyes on the battle ahead. He knew he could be accused of stealing if he forced his way through. Caster wished to avoid conflict with others, at least for now. He didn’t want to risk incurring their wrath or losing potential allies. “Once I get a silver-grade card, things will be different,” he thought. With higher levels, prestige wouldn’t be far behind, and the dynamics of encounters would shift dramatically.The level wasn’t that large; if someone knew the way, they could stroll past most dangers and quickly descend to the second level. Caster recalled hearing about hidden paths that only seasoned adventurers were aware of. These shortcuts could be the difference between life and death, especially dee