He didn’t know how much time had passed.
Lin En forced his eyes open, his vision blurry for a long while before it finally focused.
What met his gaze was not the ruined remains of the warehouse, but a simple Obsidian Meditation Chamber.
He was lying on a low couch covered with Snow Bear Pelt, and his tattered Apprentice Robe had been replaced with a clean gray cotton robe.
The excruciating pain and exhaustion in his body had been soothed by a gentle yet powerful force—he was no longer on the verge of collapse. Yet deep within his sea of consciousness, the emptiness and tearing pain from depleted Spirit Power remained vivid.
“Awake?”
A low, calm voice suddenly rang out, carrying an unquestionable authority.
Lin En turned toward the sound.
Vice Dean Morton sat upright on a stone chair beside an Obsidian table, his eyes piercing the dimness of the room, locking onto Lin En as if seeking to pierce the deepest secrets of his soul.
Lin En struggled to sit up, leaning weakly against the cold stone wall, but his gaze did not waver as he met Morton’s eyes.
“Vice Dean, sir.”
His voice was hoarse, but firm.
Morton did not reply to the title.
His scrutinizing gaze lingered on Lin En’s face for a long time.
The Meditation Chamber was so silent that a pin drop could be heard.
“Roger Howard—severe burns over his entire body, Spirit Power pathways scorched like thornbushes in fire, foundation largely destroyed. Without the Family Heirloom sustaining his life, he’d be little more than charcoal.”
“Kane Eli—internal organs shocked.”
“Four guards—lungs burned as if by fire, gravely injured by suffocation.”
“Brook—likewise badly burned, in a coma.”
Morton’s voice was flat, but every word struck like an ice pick.
“The Old Goods Warehouse reduced to ruins. Losses exceeding three thousand gold coins.”
He paused, his gaze sharpening suddenly and stabbing at Lin En.
“Now—tell me, Apprentice Lin En.”
“How could a new commoner student, deemed of minor affinity and near despair just yesterday, in half a day not only grasp the essence of Fireball but also seize and compress Explosive Spell—an art even full Magi must handle with care?”
“And that final Destructive Wind that burned the air and suffocated all—what was it?”
“Sorcery? Or… some kind of Forbidden Spell?”
The questions cut straight to the heart.
Lin En was silent for a moment, his mind whirling even through his weakness.
He needed a point of explanation that could be understood, something that would explain at least part of it.
“Vice Dean, sir.”
Lin En’s voice carried weary calm.
“Magic… is not an unattainable divine oracle.”
Morton’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly.
Lin En took a deep breath, enduring the headache, and slowly raised his right hand, five fingers slightly spread, imitating the gesture for casting Fireball, his eyes fixed on empty space.
“In the lecture hall, when you raised your hand—”
Lin En’s voice was soft, yet held an odd force that seemed to penetrate.
“I saw… that Spirit Power doesn’t emerge from nothing, but flows along a certain path.”
“From a single point in the void before your fingertips… gathering… condensing… finally stabilizing into form.”
“That gesture—it isn’t just a ritual, it’s… guiding the flow of that power.”
“And the syllables of the incantation… they’re not meaningless calls; their vibrations seem to… awaken or ignite the force.”
“Utter nonsense!”
Morton’s roar exploded like thunder, terrifying Spirit Power erupting from his seemingly gaunt frame.
His deep blue robe billowed in the raging energy, instantly enveloped by a layer of Lava Armor radiating blinding light and scorching heat.
Fiery magma veins glowed across his body, making him seem a giant stepped from the heart of a volcano.
Morton’s voice rolled forth.
“The gods bestowed magic upon mortals to lead us out of the Era of Darkness. The true nature of magic is not something mere mortals can comprehend!”
His wild white hair danced in the torrent of Spirit Power, every strand entwined with destructive flame.
The fearsome might of a Moltenfire Mage was unleashed without restraint.
The entire Obsidian Meditation Chamber felt like a volcano about to erupt; runes on the walls activated in response, humming deeply as they struggled to resist the destructive force.
Lin En’s body convulsed under the sudden pressure, but he felt no fear.
On the contrary, at the very moment Morton released his power, Lin En’s pupils contracted to pinpoints, his attention wholly drawn to the tempestuous yet ordered structure of energy.
This was his second time witnessing magic—and at such close range.
Moreover, it was a spell far beyond Fireball: Morton’s own famed Lava Armor.
Within the extreme sensitivity of his Spirit Power perception, what unfolded before him was not a miracle, but a breathtaking feat of energy manipulation!
He saw countless strands of Spirit Power, finer and tougher than hair, erupting from Morton’s conscious core with unimaginable precision and speed!
These invisible threads were not chaotic, but wove through every inch of space around Morton like the finest golden thread in a master weaver’s hands, tightly wrapping and intertwining.
They were not summoning elements—but guiding them!
Guiding the frenzied fire-attribute energy particles in the air to flow, gather, and shape along precise paths!
“Guidance… Shaping… Control…”
These words flashed in Lin En’s mind, his heart thundering in his chest.
This was a thousand times more complex than Fireball—yet its core principle was identical!
“So that’s how it is…”
Lin En gazed at the flowing Lava Armor with a near-obsessed expression, all fear and oppression forgotten, only awe and yearning for magic remaining in his eyes.
He murmured, his voice light yet unnaturally clear in the energy-laden Meditation Chamber.
“It’s not divine power… but mastery—reining with will, guiding with spirit, driving the current… Is this the essence of molten fire?”
Morton’s rage froze as if doused with ice water at Lin En’s whisper.
He could clearly sense that Lin En’s gaze wasn’t fixed on the destructive surface of the Lava Armor, but pierced through to the secret nodes and pathways of Spirit Power deep within.
That look held pure, nearly greedy desire for knowledge and understanding—no fear, only absolute longing for the essence of magic!
That gaze… how familiar!
Morton’s raging Spirit Power receded like a tide.
The Lava Armor dissolved, revealing a face stricken with shock.
He recalled the day he first displayed this proud spell before his mentor, the disappointment and profundity in the mentor’s eyes.
His mentor had said:
“Morton, you see only the might of molten fire—but have you seen its essence?”
“The power roars, but where is your spirit?”
“Are you controlling the fire, or is the fire controlling you?”
At the time, he hadn’t understood. He’d even resisted.
He believed power was everything.
But now, this Apprentice deemed worthless by all, a boy he’d nearly crushed moments before, had with a single whisper touched the threshold Morton had chased for decades without truly grasping.
What Lin En saw was not the destructive force of Lava Armor, but Morton’s own act of guiding and mastering that power through Spirit.
This—this was the essence of mastery his mentor had spoken of!
“You…”
Morton’s voice was hoarse and trembling, unprecedented in his life.
He stared at Lin En, whose eyes were still immersed in the afterglow of magic’s analysis.
“What did you see?”
Lin En snapped out of his trance, meeting Morton’s gaze with a trace of excitement.
“I saw the rush of power, like a furious river of molten lava—but your Spirit Power was the most intricate channel and dam, guiding, constraining, shaping it to your will, forming the armor of molten fire.”
He paused, his eyes shining with pure curiosity.
“Vice Dean, sir—magic… isn’t it about understanding how that power flows, and learning how best to guide and shape it? Isn’t this the wisdom we Magi pursue?”
“Wisdom…”
Morton staggered, as if struck to the core.
He had chased strength all his life, reaching heights countless others could only dream of, gaining fame as a Moltenfire Mage.
Yet now, before the clear eyes and honest words of a mere Apprentice, he felt a sudden, ineffable epiphany.
Strength alone was not the end of magic.
To understand the essence of power, to guide it, to shape it, to see beneath the surface to the true workings beneath—that was the true path of the Magi!
That was wisdom!
The flame burning in his dying mentor’s clouded eyes, and the pure desire for knowledge in this boy’s gaze, in that moment, crossed the ages and crashed together in Morton’s heart.
His aura dissipated entirely, leaving only deep shock and a soul-penetrating tremor.
A fierce emotion surged in the heart of this Vice Dean, long unshaken and proud.
To pursue wisdom… to understand essence… was this not the ultimate meaning of a Magi’s existence?
He had been born gifted and had advanced smoothly, yet never had he looked through magic’s surface so purely and boldly as this so-called worthless student.
The Howard family’s possible retaliation?
The Academy’s losses?
Such worldly troubles now seemed so trivial.
He strode to stand before Lin En, gazing down at the weak but resolute youth.
“Your analysis of magic…”
Morton’s voice was low and complex, laced with unprecedented gravity.
“Is extremely… special.”
“Special enough to bring destruction upon you—yet special enough… to warrant a chance.”
Lin En’s heart tensed.
“From today onward, you will leave the Noble Dormitory. I will arrange a secluded residence for you.”
“You may enter and leave the Library First Floor freely.”
“Each month, you will receive an additional ten standard Magic Crystals.”
Surprise flashed in Lin En’s eyes.
This treatment…
“But!”
Morton’s tone suddenly chilled.
“All your research must be conducted under my supervision! You are forbidden to reveal your analysis of Spirit Power paths to anyone! And you must not cause chaos like today again!”
A cold, tangible killing intent spread through the air.
“If you endanger the Academy, threaten the Empire’s foundations, or if your research strays into uncontrollable depths… I will personally end it. Understood?”
This was not a transaction—it was protection, and a final warning.
To exchange resources and shelter for the chance to observe and guide this seed.
Lin En met the deep probing, wary, and… faintly hopeful light in Morton’s eyes, and was silent for a moment.
An independent environment, the knowledge of the library, the energy of Magic Crystals—these were exactly what he desired most!
He nodded slowly.
“Understood, Vice Dean, sir.”
“Good.”
Morton withdrew his gaze, his killing intent fading.
He turned toward the door, pausing before pushing open the heavy Obsidian gate.
“Apprentice Lin En.”
He did not look back.
His voice echoed with a distant resonance.
“Wisdom… is the Magi’s most precious Fire of Wisdom. Guard it well… and respect it.”
The stone door closed silently, leaving Lin En alone in the tranquil Obsidian Chamber.
Leaning against the cold wall, Lin En let out a long, shaky breath, his back soaked with cold sweat.
For a moment, he had truly felt the shadow of death.
Yet in that darkness, the corners of his mouth curled upward.
The Fire of Wisdom…
He had already kindled it.
A new home, the library’s knowledge, the power of Magic Crystals—at last, his research had a foundation.
Morton’s surveillance?
It was nothing but a warning line on the path of learning.
He closed his eyes, replaying the feeling of forcibly guiding the raging power during the Explosive Spell, recalling Morton’s words about wisdom.
The sense of Spirit Power pathways, the attempt at guidance—
Countless new possibilities boiled in his mind.
The world of magic was too fascinating!
***
Meanwhile, in a lavishly decorated room within the Capital, the atmosphere was as still as the calm before a storm.
“Trash! A bunch of trash!”
A middle-aged noble, richly dressed and his face twisted with fury, smashed the crystal goblet in his hand onto the floor, shards scattering everywhere.
He was none other than Roger’s father, the Howard Viscount.
“My son! His foundation nearly destroyed! That lowborn mongrel! Morton! Morton actually dared shelter the culprit!”
Beside him, Kane’s father, the Eli Viscount, wore an expression as dark as a thundercloud.
“Please calm yourself, Viscount. My son, too, was gravely injured. However, Vice Dean Morton… his actions are always difficult to predict.”
“But this matter will not be left unresolved. I have already contacted several allied Council members. We will press the Academy for severe punishment of the perpetrator! That wretch Lin En must pay the price!”
“Press them?”
Flames of hatred blazed in the Howard Viscount’s eyes.
“I want him dead! I want his whole family buried with him! If Morton dares to interfere, then even he—”
“Enough!”
A cold, commanding voice interrupted.
From the shadows, an elder in a dark gold Magi robe stepped out, his presence vast and chilling.
He was a Light Clergy Deacon of the Holy Light Church, and the Howard Family’s greatest supporter.
“If Morton has publicly shielded the boy and brought him into the Meditation Chamber, then things are not so simple. His stance reflects that of the Academy’s highest echelons. To challenge them openly now would be foolish.”
“Is my son to be crippled for nothing?!”
The Howard Viscount roared, unwilling.
“Of course not.”
A glint of cold light flashed in the old man’s eyes.
“I will take Roger back to the Church. Under the Holy Light’s blessing, perhaps a new path may be found for him.”
Hearing this, the Howard Viscount was overjoyed and was about to voice his gratitude, but the elder cut him off with a wave.
“Send people to keep close watch on Lin En. Investigate everything about him!”
He said no more, but the killing intent in his words was unmistakable.
Within the room, the venomous flames of revenge spread in silence.