First were The Menial Tasks. This included cleaning laboratories, tending gardens, or acting as teaching assistants for meditation classes. They were safe and simple but suffered from a grueling cycle and pathetic pay. A full week of labor typically yielded a measly 10 Credits—just enough for two Soul-Nurturing Leaves.
Next were the Research Auxiliaries. Usually, this meant assisting a Master with an experiment. The pay was a staggering 50 Credits a day, yet Pierce noticed that almost no one approached these listings.
The reason was etched in blood. During the Era of Shadows, Masters were notorious for using their apprentices as expendable lab rats. While modern ethics—and an abundance of slaves from colonized planes—had reduced the risk, "accidents" still happened. Unless one was utterly destitute, few were willing to gamble their sanity or soul for a day's pay.
Finally, there were The Combat Missions: guarding mines, clearing monster dens, or hunting rogue beasts. These paid 100 Credits minimum, but Pierce dismissed them instantly. Without a single spell in his arsenal, a "Knight-level Physique" was just a faster way to get killed.
"I guess I'm stuck with the menial labor," Pierce muttered. But then, his eyes locked onto Bounty #877.
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Content: Tending to Medicinal Garden #8 (7 days).
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Requirements: Mastery of Rare Botany, Basic Alchemy, and the Level 0 spell "Verdant Radiance."
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Reward: 50 Credits.
"50 Credits for a week of gardening? That’s five times the standard rate." Pierce pondered. The requirements were the catch. The necessary courses were advanced electives that only aspiring Alchemists took—and those wealthy heirs wouldn't bother with manual labor. For everyone else, "Verdant Radiance" was a useless spell that did nothing for combat or progression.
It was a niche task that sat there, unpicked. But for Pierce, it was gold. The knowledge could be absorbed instantly through the Eye; he just needed to analyze the spell.
The only problem is I still need 13 more Gold pieces to buy the spell model, he thought, his brow furrowing.
"Pierce."
A voice called out from behind. He turned to find a group of eight—five males and three females. All were familiar faces from Class 3. At their head was Xavier, the boy with the highest aptitude in the class after the prodigy Cedric.
"Long time no see, Pierce," Xavier said, offering a smile that radiated warmth.
Pierce remained stoic. He knew Xavier hadn't spared him a single glance back when he was a "theory genius" with no talent. This newfound friendliness was a courtesy reserved strictly for those who had crossed the mist and became Initiates.
"What can I do for you?" Pierce asked.
"We’re here to invite you into our Society," Xavier said, his tone turning serious. "Most of us from Class 3 have banded together. It’s better to share intelligence and resources than to struggle alone. Besides, we need to start preparing for The Freshman Trials."
"The Trials?" Pierce’s interest piqued. "What trials?"