With the remaining spars concluded, the four of us walked back toward the dormitories in silence. There was nothing much to say after all, neither Elias, nor Kai, nor I got to fight with the rest of the class. The only spar that had impressed the class was Nico's, and it had been far too brutal. By the time we'd finished, morning had stretched longer than expected, and my stomach was making its complaints known with increasing volume.
Kai fell into step beside me, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe the cafeteria's closed until noon," he muttered. "What kind of place shuts down right after mandatory morning classes?"
I grumbled in agreement, fatigue making me more irritable than usual. "A bit brutish, isn't it? Force us to wake up at dawn, then deny us food like we're being punished."
Nico clicked his tongue. "You should be more careful next time. If the professor didn't catch you, at least you'd get breakfast."
Kai and I both turned to glare at Elias, who held up his hands defensively.
"I've already apologised," Elias said, voice carrying the weary tone of someone who'd been having this conversation all morning. "Multiple times, actually." He sighed, shoulders sagging slightly. "Besides, it's not my fault the cafeteria doesn't open after sunrise till noon."
As we reached the crossroads where the dormitory paths diverged, Elias paused and turned toward his own building.
"I'll catch up with you later," he said, then headed off toward the second batch's dormitories without looking back.
Kai watched him go, then shrugged. "Think I'll just try to sleep this off. I can still feel the disc hurting my back."
Nico sighed. "I'm going to check out the magic tower again. See if there's anything useful I missed yesterday." He turned left toward the upper campus paths. "Later."
And then it was just Kai and me, walking the remaining distance to our dormitory while our stomachs grumbled in silence.
Back in my room, I found myself staring at the ceiling and thinking about what I'd witnessed in that sparring capsule.
'The other fights were nothing special, tentative exchanges between students still figuring out how to integrate basic mana with physical combat. But Nico's demonstration had been something else entirely.'
'The skill level wasn't even comparable. Which raised an obvious question: when had he started training? I definitely didn't think he had developed that kind of precision and control overnight. Had he been practising since childhood? Was this the result of years of dedicated study, or was he just naturally gifted to an almost unfair degree?'
The thought entertained me for a while, but eventually my mind drifted back to analysing the actual mechanics of what I'd seen.
Using my [Insight] ability, I could permanently memorise even complex sequences of movement and technique. I replayed the fight in my mind like watching a recording, examining each exchange from multiple angles.
Nico's shadow magic was genuinely remarkable. The way he'd used it wasn't flashy or dramatic, but extremely precise. Efficient. But more importantly, I couldn't think of any obvious counters to it. The unpredictability alone would make it nearly impossible to defend against.
I tried imagining myself in Darius's position. Would I have lasted even that long?
'Probably not.'
I wasn't as sturdy as Darius, didn't have his raw physical presence. Against that shadow-stepping technique, I'd probably last maybe ten seconds before getting carved up.
'What about Kai?'
'His speed advantage might help him blitz most opponents, but the unpredictability of shadow magic would make timing impossible. He might get one good exchange, but after that, Nico would adapt, and likely win.'
'As for Elias... well, he was strong with fire and wind magic, but the fact that Nico knocked him unconscious with a single blow last night pretty much answers that.'
My thoughts wandered. A strange fire pulsed in my belly. Maybe it was just the hunger. But the unease didn't let me stay still. I couldn't help but think ahead.
'How would someone actually beat Nico?'
I thought about his technique more carefully.
He'd thrown his daggers several times, then used mana control to recall them like they were attached to invisible strings. If I could somehow disrupt that recall mechanism with my own mana manipulation, wouldn't that effectively disarm him?
He could still use his shadows to swap, but being able to disarm him at a crucial point was definitely a plus.
'It's not really a great strategy' I sighed.
The obvious answer would be developing better speed and awareness, which meant serious physical conditioning.
'Reacting to that kind of magic in-game was far easier. But seeing it for myself in real life.'
My brows knit together, 'It's downright unfair. The fact that the shadows he used were all in blind spots meant that whoever does fight him likely will never see his swap coming.'
And obviously, the real answer would be developing my own magic to a comparable level.
But that was the problem, wasn't it? Even in all the books I'd read about magical theory and application, none of them actually explained how someone went about developing their own magic. They talked about using mana, controlling it, refining techniques, but not the fundamental process of awakening magical ability in the first place.
I rustled my hair in frustration. In the game, unlocking magic had been a simple side quest with clear objectives and guaranteed rewards. But my own research told me that it was far more complicated than that.
My stomach grumbled again, and I grew more restless. As uneasiness shifted to agitation, heat pulsed from my forehead, and beads of sweat formed at my temple.
Sighing, I went to my bedside drawer and pulled out the handful of coins I'd taken from the magic tower. The only thing I could think of to calm myself down was practice.
I settled cross-legged on my bed and began trying to make them float one by one above my palm, focusing on the feeling of mana flowing through my fingertips.
-
A few hours later, I was on the floor doing pushups, counting each rep with grim determination.
"Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty—"
My arms gave out, and I dropped to the floor.
[Strength has increased slightly]
[Agility has increased slightly]
"Every little bit counts." I panted and struggled to my feet.
By the time I'd finished practising my mana control, plus some other workouts, noon had rolled around, and I was more than ready for food. I stepped out of my room and headed straight for the cafeteria, where I grabbed the first available meal and found a quiet table.
"Beans and potatoes with some bread."
My stomach rumbled appreciatively, but I found myself sighing at the lack of meat.
"Can't really be picky right now..."
I wolfed it down.
Having eaten my fill, I checked my communication band for any afternoon schedules or assignments. Nothing. The rest of the day was apparently free time.
I sat back in my chair and felt the familiar weight of urgency settling over me. I couldn't afford to waste time, not when the memory of Nico's effortless dismantling of Darius was still fresh in my mind.
'The gap between where I am and where I want to be feels enormous.'
Advent was not an easy world to live in. Even now, I knew that if I encountered a low-ranked shrieker, I'd be dead within minutes. I had worked for nearly a month, tired myself out like a dog every day, pushed my mind to the limit and tried my hardest to adapt to a magical world I could barely make sense of.
All for what?
A few more seconds on the clock while I faced an enemy of the lowest tier?
That didn't sit right with me. I had gotten a new chance at life, and I wasn't willing to squander it for any reason. I knew that every journey started with small steps, and so I had been somewhat satisfied with my progress till now.
But it seemed I had to speed up.
-
The Grand Library's gate still felt like walking through a goopy soap bubble.
Cold air brushed my face as I stepped inside.
The world immediately went quiet. It was a particular kind of silence where even your heartbeat sounded too loud.
Delkira was near the entrance desk, talking to a first-year boy. The boy held himself like he was already conducting business, even while just standing there. Everything about his posture screamed expensive education and family connections.
I drifted closer and caught the end of their conversation.
"As I said, I inspected the book bindings myself....Our rebinding services are genuinely top-tier," the boy spoke with a voice as smooth as silk and twice as practised. "The Kade family takes immense pride in quality work. We could do the library a significant favour."
Delkira wore a hollow smile. Then his eyes found me over the boy's shoulder, and I could feel the spark return to him.
'This seems like a dangerous moment to intervene.' I took a cautionary step back, but before I could disappear from view, Delkira gasped.
"Ah," Delkira said, as if suddenly remembering an urgent appointment. "Looks like a student needs assistance. Please excuse me."
"What?" The boy tilted his head and followed Delkira's gaze, but just as he turned, Delkira vanished.
The boy stared at the spot where Delkira had been standing, jaw tightening with the kind of frustration that came from being professionally dismissed.
He muttered under his breath, "He can't avoid me forever."
Then he turned again, and our eyes met.
For a moment, I fully expected him to transfer his annoyance to me. Instead, he straightened his jacket with practised ease, walked over with a smile, and extended his hand.
"Adrian Kade,"
I shook it. 'So this is the last of the seven.'
His name echoed in my mind, and I replied.
"Noah Reed."
Adrian's eyes flicked over me, as if he was cataloguing details, then back to my face. He pulled a small card from his inner pocket and pressed it into my palm. Thick cardstock, clean typography, embossed lettering that felt expensive under my thumb and a surreal, magical glow to the symbol etched in the middle. "If you need anything handled, books, supplies, reach out, my family specialises in logistics."
I stared at the card, then at him. "Why are you giving me this?"
Adrian's smile didn't waver. "Call it a hunch. I just felt that you're the type of guy who'd actually use these services well."
I couldn't help but smile, "That's another sales tactic you're practising on me?"
He gave me a cheeky smile and stepped back like that explained everything, turned on his heel, and walked deeper into the library
"Delkira," he called out, not bothering to lower his voice. "We really should talk."
But only his own echo answered him from between the towering shelves.
I pocketed the card and watched him disappear.
'Adrian Kade. He's a bit more eccentric than I thought he'd be.'
I walked up the stairs, past floors of quietly studying readers, until I reached the fifth floor that had become my personal cosy corner. I looked through the usual shelves, grabbed my books and scuttled to my table.
But someone was already sitting there.
A sharp-featured man in a long white military overcoat, the kind that sat heavy on broad shoulders. His olive green hair caught the light from the magical lamps. He had freckled white skin and almond colored eyes that flicked up the moment I stepped into the aisle.
His gaze felt eerily familiar. It didn't press down like Aluis's or weigh like Pasadin's. But it seemed similar to theirs, as if reading or measuring me with each step I took closer.
I stopped mid-step and did the first thing that came to mind.
I saluted.
The corner of his mouth twitched like he found it amusing. He returned the gesture with a lazy two-finger motion, then nodded toward the chair beside him.
"Sit," he said, voice carrying the easy command of someone used to being obeyed. "You're blocking my light."
I pulled a chair beside him and sat down. Up close, he smelled faintly of metal polish and soap. He glanced at the stack of books in my arms and made a thoughtful sound.
"Good choices," he said, "Mana theory and practical applications are great for beginners. But are you looking to improve your control or expand your skillset?"
"It's a bit of both, actually," I admitted before I could stop myself.
That earned me a genuine chuckle.
"Quite the workload." He leaned back slightly. "What's your name?"
"Noah Reed."
"Galahad, you may call me Colonel Galahad," he replied.
I nodded once, 'A colonel. Isn't Professor Alexander a Lieutenant? That means this guy was right above him in the chain of command.'
His eyes sharpened slightly, interest sparking. "So," he said, settling back in his chair. "Why are you here instead of sleeping off your afternoon like the rest of your year?"
I paused and hesitated, almost as if I couldn't figure out the answer myself.
"I watched a friend's spar this morning," I said. "And I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd not improved at all compared to that. That didn't sit right with me. And I thought that I was currently too weak, and in the end, I know the only way to become stronger was to study and improve."
Galahad's expression shifted, becoming more serious. "That's quite the sombre reason for someone as young as yourself."
He tapped the edge of my book with one finger, "You seem smart for your age, Cadet Reed. But you've made a crucial error in your thought process."
"Huh?"
Galahad continued, his voice dropping to something quieter, as if he was sharing something more personal. "Being anxious to improve is a good thing. Stress is often the gateway to greatness. However, the core motive, being that you are comparing yourself to someone else, is entirely wrong."
"The difference between a competent Awakened and a truly great one isn't talent," he said. "It's ego."
My eyebrows pulled together. "Ego?"
He waved a hand, clarifying. "Not vanity. Not being self-centred. I mean self-belief. The kind kind that holds steady when everything else is falling apart around you."
His gaze drifted over my books again, then back to meet my eyes directly.
"Don't chase your friend, don't chase anyone else," he said with quiet intensity. "Chasing someone else's shadow makes you smaller than you are. Instead, focus only on finding the strongest version of yourself."
The words hit harder than they should have for something said so casually, and I felt them settle in my chest like stones.
I opened my mouth to respond, and someone brushed past our table. A chair scraped against the floor once, then stopped. A second man sat down across from us.
For a heartbeat, my brain scrambled to make sense of what I was seeing.
Same olive green hair. Same freckled complexion. Same almond-shaped eyes. Same confident posture.
'A twin brother? No, that feels wrong.'
Something irked my senses. Then my [Insight] ability kicked in like ice water flooding my nervous system.
[Magical Clone]
A tag floated above his head.
"A Clone?" I muttered.
My gaze snapped to the newcomer's face, and his eyebrows rose slightly in surprise.
"Well," he said, voice identical to Galahad's but carrying a faintly amused edge. "That was unexpected."
Galahad didn't look surprised at all. He glanced at the clone like he'd been expecting him to arrive at exactly this moment.
"Not many can tell me apart," the clone added, leaning forward with interest. "No, in fact, I could count on one hand the ones who can."
I swallowed hard. "Just a lucky guess."
The clone chuckled; his eyes burned with interest. "I assure you, that's not possible."