Pierce let out a long breath of relief. At The Spire Academy, competition was governed by the law of the jungle. Any student who failed to advance to an Initiate within their first month faced The Cull. They were either expelled to live out a mediocre life as a commoner or transferred to the Knight Academy to begin the grueling path of a Squire.
As a Rank 1 Apprentice, Pierce’s place was finally secure.
"Next up... Will-Rune #2."
In the hierarchy of magical progression:
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Rank 2 Apprentice: Requires 6 Will-Runes and 18 units of Spirit.
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Rank 3 Apprentice: Requires 12 Will-Runes and 50 units of Spirit.
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Only beyond Rank 3 could one truly claim the title of an Arcanist.
"Omniscience, begin analysis of Rune #2." [Task created. Estimated time: 5 days.]
"Consume Spirit for acceleration!" Pierce commanded internally. [Acceleration active. New estimated time: 3 days, 14 hours.]
A wave of exhaustion washed over him. The Omniscient Eye could use his Spirit as "fuel" to bypass cognitive hurdles. Pierce knew that Silas, the class prodigy, had taken nine days to master the second rune. Pierce was now moving twice as fast.
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The next morning, Pierce headed to the academy. The air in the slums was damp and cool. Overhead, hundreds of scavenger crows circled, their harsh cawing a permanent soundtrack to the Outer City—a sight so common it had birthed the profession of "Crow-Catchers."
At the Spire's main gates, the scene was a chaotic zoo of exotic mounts and ornate carriages. What caught Pierce’s eye, however, were the coachmen. Some stood seven feet tall, their muscles rippling like gnarled oak roots, radiating a primal, savage energy.
These were the Dilo Barbarians—natives of a colonized plane subjugated by the Astral Coalition. Once masters of their own world, they were now relegated to roles as slaves, bodyguards, or shock troops. Nearby, sharp-eyed Gnomes and shifty Goblins—also from conquered realms—scurried about their business.
This was the true face of the Arcane Civilization: a magnificent empire built upon the bones of a thousand worlds.
Pierce navigated the crowd and knocked on the door of Master Julian’s office.
"You’ve advanced? Impressive." Julian looked up, a flicker of genuine surprise in his eyes. He gestured toward a Crystal Orb on his desk. "Test."
Pierce pressed his palm against the cold surface. He felt an invisible ripple scan through him, peeling back his layers. "3.49 units. Respectable. You’ve passed." Julian nodded. With a flick of his finger, three items drifted out of a drawer: a grey robe enchanted with a Self-Cleaning Cantrip, a silver Rank 1 badge engraved with an Arcane Mark, and a handbook.
"The badge grants access to the laboratories and the gardens. Also, you are entitled to pick one Spell Model for free at the logistics department."
As Pierce prepared to leave, Julian flipped a gold coin through the air. Pierce caught it instinctively. "Take this. It will grant you an extra spell model. Consider it a personal bonus from me." Julian paused, his voice turning solemn. "Remember, Pierce: Wisdom is the true source of power. Everything else is merely a tool. Use that mind of yours well."
Pierce felt a surge of genuine gratitude. "Thank you, Master. I won't forget."