Two tall clay figures stood before the entrance to Moonlight Tower, their expressions stiff and lifeless.
The moment Lance and Poirot approached, the weapons in the clay guardians' hands swung up with a clatter and pointed directly at them.
"Som Harin!"
Lance still remembered the entry incantation for his teacher's wizard tower clearly.
The clay guardians immediately stepped aside, and the small door at the base of Moonlight Tower slowly opened.
"Wait for me here."
With that instruction, Lance calmly walked between the two clay figures and entered.
Their movements looked slow and wooden, but the pair were actually rare works of puppetry. Amman had invested an enormous amount of effort into creating them, and the finished products had justified that work. Each clay guardian possessed strength comparable to a Silver Swordsman.
Even an experienced patrolman like Poirot could not be certain of defeating one in a one-on-one fight. Puppets felt no pain and knew no fear. Once ordered to attack, they would simply keep fighting with everything they had.
Lance still possessed enough of the former owner's common knowledge to understand that much.
He stepped into Moonlight Tower and was immediately met by a refreshing current of cool air.
Teacher permanently embedded the Level 1 spell [Cool Touch] into the first-floor hall, Lance recalled. It helps restore mental alertness.
He walked to an elevator. A large magic stone had been installed beneath its platform, crystal clear and shining with a peculiar light.
"Lance? You're here..."
Amman's voice drifted down from somewhere above, carrying a trace of surprise.
The entire wizard tower was under his control. The instant Lance spoke the incantation and entered Moonlight Tower, Amman knew about it.
What surprised him was simply that Lance had chosen to come today.
Still, they had been teacher and student for half a year. After a short hesitation, Amman said, "Come up."
Lance respectfully stepped onto the elevator.
The mechanism rumbled to life. The magic stone below blazed with light, chains engaged with a series of metallic clanks, and the platform began to rise steadily.
Incredible. Magic can imitate technology too.
With Lance's limited knowledge, all he knew was that the magic stone supplied the elevator's power.
By wizarding standards, the stone was impure and not especially valuable. Even so, it was perfectly suitable as an energy source for certain magical devices.
Moonlight Tower had six floors. Amman usually conducted his magical experiments on the fifth.
Wizards were diligent people. Lance had risen early, but Amman had clearly risen even earlier. When the elevator reached the fifth floor, Lance found his teacher already deep into an experiment.
Diligence. It always comes down to diligence.
The sight struck Lance more deeply than he expected.
Talent was necessary to become a wizard who stood above ordinary worldly authority, but hard work was indispensable as well.
'Fox, with my current body, what is the minimum amount of sleep I can safely get each day?'
Fox produced an answer almost immediately.
[Based on your current Constitution, six hours of sleep per day is the minimum your body can safely tolerate. Reducing your sleep further may cause permanent damage that would be difficult to repair.]
'Then from now on, I'll sleep exactly six hours a day. No more, no less.'
Lance silently added it to his plans.
'Is there any way to improve my physical condition quickly?'
His body was simply too weak.
Long-term exercise seemed like the obvious way to improve it, but Lance did not want to wait that long. He needed results as quickly as possible.
His physical condition determined whether he could activate the subchips at the ends of his gene chain.
If he could bring even a few useful chips online, they would not only make him stronger but could also help tremendously with his study of magic.
Fox replied: [No method is currently available. The rules of this world differ from those of Earth. Fox is gathering as much local data as possible. If a method of improving your physical condition is discovered during this process, Fox will report it.]
[To improve environmental data collection, please authorize Fox to use your visual, tactile, auditory, and olfactory systems for scanning.]
'No problem. You have full authorization. Build a basic database of this world as quickly as possible.'
Lance made the decision without hesitation.
The memories he had inherited made one thing clear: this was a world where the strong preyed upon the weak.
His father, Viscount Lane, was powerful enough to have ignited the spark, which was why he could protect and rule this territory.
Griffin, the son of the viscount's first wife and Lance's elder brother, had inherited the same talent. He had an excellent chance of igniting the spark himself and becoming a Gold Swordsman.
As long as Lance remained in the territory, his father could protect him.
But depending on someone else's strength for survival made Lance uneasy.
He had to become stronger as quickly as possible.
Once authorization was complete, Fox began scanning and cataloguing everything Lance encountered.
Lance himself waited respectfully off to the side.
Amman had clearly forgotten all about his disciple after becoming absorbed in the experiment. The old wizard remained intensely busy, leaving Lance with no choice but to wait quietly.
Four hours later, the sun had risen high in the sky, and a hungry Lance finally saw Amman lift his head.
The old wizard set aside his experiment.
Perhaps the results had pleased him, because he addressed Lance in a mild tone.
"Lance, why did you come so early today?"
It was an empty question.
In truth, Amman did not know what else to say.
The previous night, the viscount had decided to send Lance to the ascetic camp after asking for Amman's professional judgment. Amman felt sympathy and pity for his student, but beyond that, there was little he could do.
Lance smiled faintly.
"Nothing in particular. I came to see you, Teacher. There is also something I wanted to ask you."
'The poor child probably has no idea what kind of hardship is waiting for him at the ascetic camp.'
Amman sighed inwardly, and the pity in his eyes deepened.
"Go ahead. If there is anything I can help you with, I will."
Lance's expression turned serious.
"Teacher, I want to study the rune for Lesser Meditation one more time."
Amman's expression darkened.
"After what happened last night, Lance, I thought you would finally accept the limits of your talent."
"Teacher, please give me one more chance. I truly only need one last chance."
Amman frowned.
"What good would it do for me to teach you again? The rune for Lesser Meditation is not something an ordinary person can simply write down. I have taught you for six full months. You failed throughout those six months. Do you truly think one more demonstration will suddenly change that?"
Lance drew a deep breath.
Then, without warning, he dropped to one knee.
"Teacher, I know my talent is poor. I know I have disappointed both you and Father."
"I also know that before long I will be sent to the ascetic camp, and I may never have another chance in this life to see you or the rest of my family."
"Before that happens, I ask only that you give me one more opportunity."
"Just one."
Amman was visibly moved.
He helped Lance to his feet and thought for a moment. Then he swept his sleeve aside and walked toward another room.
"Follow me."
Lance finally relaxed.
He had cleared the hardest obstacle.
If Amman refused to demonstrate the Lesser Meditation rune again, Lance would have no chance of reproducing it, because that rune was completely missing from the former owner's surviving memories.
Casting a spell required a wizard to complete many complicated steps.
The first requirement was mana.
Some people were born with mana already present in their bodies. Such people were geniuses among wizards.
Most wizards, however, began as ordinary people with no mana at all.
To gather mana, they had to rely on meditation.
Meditation itself was a spell, but an extremely unusual one.
It was unique because, unlike every other spell, meditation was not powered by mana. It relied solely on the wizard's own mental power.
Yet it was still a spell, because learning and mastering it required the same three stages as any other spell.
First: memorize the spell rune.
Second: use mental power to reproduce the rune accurately within the mindscape.
Third: permanently stabilize the completed rune within the mindscape.
Only after completing all three stages could someone truly claim to have mastered a spell.
Memorizing the spell rune was merely the first step.
'The previous guy studied for more than half a year and still couldn't even memorize one rune. That's unbelievably bad.'
Lance complained inwardly, though he also understood that spell runes were fundamentally different from ordinary writing.
Only someone with sufficient mental power could memorize them.
If an ordinary person tried to force a spell rune into memory, the consequences could range from fainting and coughing up blood to immediate death.
The problem was simple: without sufficient mental power, the mind could not withstand the rune.
The former owner of Lance's body had clearly lacked that strength.
That worried Lance as well.
Fortunately, he had his own solution.
As long as he could persuade Amman to demonstrate the rune one more time, Lance believed he could pass tomorrow night's test.
Teacher and student entered a study one after the other.
Without wasting words, Amman solemnly took out a sheet of beast hide. It was made from unusually fine material and shimmered with a multicolored sheen beneath the sunlight.
A memory surfaced in Lance's mind.
'That's the hide of an Andi Giant Rat. It's a relatively low-grade spellcasting material with a strong affinity for spell particles. Even so, it's still precious to low-level wizards.'
The former Lance's six months of study had not been entirely wasted. He had learned a considerable amount of basic magical knowledge, and all of it now belonged to Lance.
"Lance, watch carefully."
Amman's voice became solemn.
Lance hurried behind his teacher and focused on every movement.
At the same time, he issued a silent command.
'Record the target rune.'
[Command received. Fox has begun recording.]
Lance breathed a quiet sigh of relief and kept his eyes fixed on Amman.
The old wizard spread the beast hide flat, took a black swan quill from a nearby rack, and opened a jar of special ink.
He carefully dipped the tip into the magical ink.
Then, with complete concentration, Amman began writing the rune for Lesser Meditation.