Arcane Iaijutsu

Though he only had a few silver coins in his pocket, he could not show weakness. Du Pont did not want others to know how little backing he had right now. No matter the world, people probably did not think much of the poor. "Forget it. I haven't been feeling well lately, weak as a kitten. The infirmary instructor even told me to see a doctor tomorrow. I don't have time."

"Oh, then forget it." Charles was clearly disappointed. "We'll talk when you're feeling better."

The chubby boy went off to chat with someone else. Before long, lewd laughter drifted over. Du Pont quietly observed the room and noticed a problem.

There had been more than forty students in the classroom just now. Some had left for other classrooms after class, but fifteen remained. The break was not short, yet only this person had come to talk to him. It seemed he was not very popular.

Students generally were not as calculating as people in society. His looks were not bad enough to make people dislike him, so was he unpopular because he was a poor student?

But Charles sat in the front row. The fact that Charles could get along with him showed that was not the issue. His charisma was not so terrible that people would be irritated at the sight of him.

Maybe the people here were too busy grinding through life to feel like socializing.

Du Pont thought.

The academy only had four classes a day. The next spell class still left his head spinning, but he diligently copied down notes. Fortunately, he gained another 24 experience points.

At this rate, becoming a third-level mage by the end of the year really would not be a problem.

A third-level mage could cast second-circle spells, and second-circle scrolls could be sold back for as much as 10 gold coins. The efficiency would more than triple.

"What are you thinking about?" Charles's voice came from beside him. "It's time to eat. If we get there late, all the good stuff will be gone."

The academy cafeteria was quite spacious, and unexpectedly clean. The bright floor tiles were spotless, while slogans such as "No Loud Noises," "No Fighting," and "Strictly Prohibited: Speculation and Profiteering" were posted on the walls. Even the hard-to-clean corners were free of dust.

Quite a few people did not live on campus. At the moment, there were only a little over two hundred apprentices in the cafeteria. A long line had formed at the three serving windows. Everyone held iron trays as they bought food, and some took theirs straight back to the dormitories. Du Pont looked at the prices and his teeth ached.

A student meal consisting of a steaming loaf of bread, a hearty bowl of fragrant beef soup, and a small plate of cabbage salad cost 30 copper coins.

That was not expensive considering an apprentice's possible income. Even handing in one extra scroll each week would pay for nearly a hundred such meals. But it was a little hard for Du Pont to accept.

He only had a few coins to his name.

Looking at the peers around him, all half a head shorter than he was, Du Pont ordered two extra loaves of bread and a glass bottle of milk weighing about a pound. The total came to exactly 50 copper coins.

Du Pont had no intention of skimping on food.

His finances were tight right now, but having a healthy body would undoubtedly make everything easier. If he could solve his current problem through nutrition, he would save a massive sum of 50,000 copper coins.

He shared a table with several classmates he vaguely recognized. Du Pont weighed the brown bread in his hand. It smelled good and weighed about three taels. It was fairly soft to the touch, but a little rough on the throat once he ate it.

No wonder people here liked soaking bread in mutton soup.

After the two had eaten and drunk their fill, they were about to return to the dormitory together when they vaguely heard the words "bottomless pit" from behind them.

Du Pont glanced sideways and ignored it.

It seemed teenagers in every world liked giving others nicknames. Even these mage apprentices, whose intelligence should have far exceeded that of ordinary people, were no exception. Childish to the core.

Just as he was about to leave, Charles beside him got angry and turned around to roar, "Which goblin-bred bastard said that?"

Du Pont ate a lot, but his height made his build quite well-proportioned. Charles, on the other hand, was undeniably a chubby boy. Hearing someone expose his sore spot, rage surged in his chest, and even the flesh on his cheeks trembled.

"We weren't talking about you. Why are you getting so worked up?" Charles's curse drew the attention of everyone in the cafeteria. The apprentice named Bran was completely unfazed, while a skinny boy beside him sneered. "I've heard of people picking up money, but this is my first time seeing someone pick up an insult."

"Heh, so gossiping behind people's backs is justified now?" Charles glared at him and was about to curse again when Du Pont noticed that a slick-haired boy at the neighboring table had already reached for his waist pouch.

Something was wrong.

Du Pont was not afraid of a fight. The construction-site basketball he played with his workers had been rough and violent. Aside from not using wrenches, the moves had been bigger than modern NBA play. But getting into a conflict with people harboring ulterior motives in an unfamiliar place would probably have consequences beyond simply paying medical bills.

Du Pont patted Charles on the shoulder and sneered. "Forget it. Why waste your breath arguing with stupid dogs who don't know the value of time? When he fails to graduate, he can still sell his ass. Look at you—could you?"

Du Pont's words made quite a few people in the cafeteria laugh. Seeing the two men flush red with anger, Charles felt immensely satisfied. Then he realized that no one at their table besides Du Pont had spoken up for him, so he picked up his tray and left. "Exactly. I won't lower myself to your bunch of idiots. Let's go."

Those words were truly vicious. The skinny boy stood up angrily. "A bunch of inferior students acting all high and mighty. You've really benefited from this new era—anyone can come here and call themselves a mage now."

But to his surprise, all the Construction Mage apprentices nearby stood up at once, slammed their hands on the tables, and glared at him furiously. "Watch your mouth!"

The skinny boy was about to say more when the person beside him, who had been putting on an armband as if nothing had happened, shook his head. The skinny boy lost his nerve and sat back down. "Those mud-playing bastards sure ran fast."

Bran did not respond. He quietly cast Message. "That's enough. Provoking too many people was never our intention. But Conner, most people might think we only picked a fight today by accident. If we deliberately cause trouble again soon, people will remember it. If it reaches the instructors—"

Conner had already swapped his armband for a handkerchief and casually wiped the corner of his mouth as though nothing had happened. From the corner of his eye, he watched the two leave. "It's fine. Without those soft targets, we can go pick on those northerners. We'll deal with them one by one."

Meanwhile, Du Pont was already lying on his bed, deep in thought.

A school environment never lacked idiots. Even before he transmigrated from Earth, with all kinds of rules and restrictions in place, fights still happened often. A medieval feudal society like this would only be more barbaric.

There were almost no incidents involving deaths at the academy in his memories, but someone was confined for fighting nearly every month, and injuries requiring trips to the infirmary were not uncommon either.

Sometimes conflict happened for no reason at all. The School of Abjuration looked down on evokers, the School of Divination viewed everyone else as idiots, and his newly established construction school was considered even lower.

There had originally been no construction spells in this world. But using spells and golems to build fortresses and cities was clearly more efficient and reliable than relying on ordinary people, so suitable spells from other schools had been placed under the construction school, creating this new discipline.

But not every new field was a promising investment. The construction school's ceiling was extremely low, with only fifth-circle spells at most. To go higher, one could only study golemcraft. Within the academy, it was regarded as something only the talentless "incompetent" would learn.

That was not an overly biased view. In fact, Du Pont had become a Construction Mage precisely because he lacked talent.

Du Pont's primary mage attribute, Intelligence, was only 14. Though he was still young and had room to grow, without some great opportunity, mastering fifth-circle spells in this life would already be impressive.

He did not even meet the prerequisites for learning the ninth-circle spells that Archmages used to turn the tide in legendary tales.

So where was the advantage of a Construction Mage?

Normally, a third-level mage could cast second-circle spells, while a fifth-level mage could cast third-circle spells.

But the construction school had unique spell-level reduction spells. That meant as long as Du Pont became a fifth-level mage, he could cast fourth-circle spells from his own school.

These reduced-circle spells were certainly less powerful than normal magic, but construction magic did not require combat power. Every spell existed to mix mortar and speed up progress. As long as there were projects to work on, they would never lack a livelihood.

The employment prospects were good and the pay was not low. Even if the career ceiling was limited, the income was decent. After all, he would still be a mage. Working on construction sites was much safer than adventuring.

Those with talent could also free themselves from worldly chores and devote themselves entirely to the path of the arcane. It was a good deal for everyone.

Du Pont was not too hung up on how far he could go as a mage. Even the work of a mage apprentice was far better than his previous job on construction sites.

He would not have to rise early and work late, nor would he risk taking the blame and ending up sewing uniforms in prison. If he wanted, he could even take a nominal post as a low-ranking clerk, a grassroots civil servant.

An Intelligence of 14 was unremarkable at the academy, but once he went outside, he would still count as high-IQ talent. He would be more than qualified to serve as a Barbarian's strategist.

But this world did not seem very peaceful. Even the school was full of scheming.

Fighting and casting offensive spells were explicitly forbidden here, but if someone lost their head in rage, who would care about that?

The most basic first-circle spell, Magic Missile, could fire a bowl-sized ball of pure arcane energy with a flick of the hand. It had automatic tracking and a 100% hit rate. Even if it did not kill a low-level adventurer, it would leave them badly crippled. Its power was absolutely comparable to a modern rifle.

It could be said that everyone in this academy had a mage's version of iaijutsu. In his previous life's America, that would mean everyone carried a gun. Treating these apprentices like harmless good kids would definitely lead to disaster.

But compared to conflicts between students, his debt problem was more urgent. If he could not repay the money this month, the daily interest would reach 10,000 copper coins.

Money was good in every world. If he could scribe scrolls well, he would practically be a human printing press. But how could he improve at scroll scribing?

Charles claimed his success rate was around fifty percent. The chubby boy was clearly more talented than he was, and Du Pont had also learned the price of parchment scrolls earlier.

A first-level parchment sheet cost 1 gold coin. Every apprentice could receive ten for free each week and was required to submit ten corresponding scrolls each week.

Going only by the system's probability, he could complete four out of ten. In other words, he could create 12 gold coins' worth of value with 10 gold coins. But everyone said that Scribe Scroll was exhausting and laborious. At an average of one hour per scroll, if he had five hours a day to copy scrolls including noon, he could earn two gold coins every two days while energetic.

And that was under ideal conditions. What about reality?

Sitting in a wooden chair for four hours might not count as torture, but it would not be comfortable either. Focusing completely for an hour and still having a chance to fail—

That was truly a miserable scam.

Thinking of this, Du Pont placed the bread and milk he had taken away on the table as a late-night snack. After feeding the stupid bird in the flowerpot and clearing the desk, he summoned the system that had screwed him over.

"Is there any way to increase my success rate at scribing scrolls?"

Several books available for purchase soon appeared before Du Pont.

"Detailed Explanation of First-Circle School of Transmutation Spells" and "How to Quickly Scribe Scrolls" were each worth one hundred gold coins. "Scroll Scribing Insights" cost two thousand gold coins.

The sight of money made Du Pont's head hurt. The words "anti-fraud awareness" echoed in his mind. "I don't have money right now. Do you have any free knowledge?"

Everything in the world has a price. Knowledge is the most special among them. It contains the crystallized wisdom of those who came before and can be called the essence of time, an absolutely priceless treasure. If you do not have enough money to purchase this knowledge, then the issue is not that the knowledge is too expensive, but that you should reflect on your own problems.

Du Pont cursed inwardly. His system had to be a demon in disguise. Yet his face remained calm. "But I don't have money right now. Can I buy on credit?"

When you already had too many lice, one more did not matter. Another 100 gold coins of debt would not change his current situation much. What mattered was increasing his success rate at Scribe Scroll and improving his ability to earn money.

Under review. Your current credit is average. Before repaying your existing debt, you may only increase your credit limit by 100 gold coins. Any excess borrowing must be repaid within one week, or an additional 10% interest will be charged daily. If it is not repaid within half a month, your soul will be harvested.

Du Pont began calculating. The more he calculated, the colder his heart became.

He originally had three months. Borrowing only 100 more gold coins added so many extra conditions. It was not worth it.

"If I buy these two books, how much can my scroll-scribing success rate improve?"

Reasoning. Your scroll-scribing success rate will increase from 40% to between 41% and 80%. Purchasing both books will increase it to between 41% and 95%. The exact success rate is related to your own skill, mindset, and environmental factors.

Du Pont was shocked. This could no longer be described as merely a scam. "If I buy these two so-called priceless treasures, the minimum improvement could be only 1%?"

Knowledge can only improve relevant methods and upper limits. How much you comprehend depends more on the user's personal ability.

So if there was a problem, it was because his ability was lacking? This damned thing really deserved a beating.

After thinking for a moment, Du Pont decided to try a different approach. "Do you have anything free that I can try out? Otherwise, we're both wasting time. You'll suffer losses from bad debt too."

The system's reply came unusually slowly this time.

Under review. Temporary simulation training function activated. In this state, actions such as casting spells and scribing scrolls are all considered training and will not affect reality.

He had finally managed to freeload something from this stingy system.

Du Pont let out a breath of relief. Following the instructions, he sat on the bed with his back against the wall, closed his eyes, and began emptying his mind.

To enter the training ground, he first had to enter a meditative state.

After an unknown amount of time, the darkness before his eyes turned to light. Before him stretched a spacious training ground, filled with every kind of weapon and armor. An ivory tower reaching into the clouds stood off to one side, looking somewhat out of place.

Du Pont cautiously approached the tower. Before he could knock, the heavy, weathered wooden door opened by itself. He cautiously called out a greeting, but did not even hear an echo. The empty tower contained only all kinds of magical apparatuses, many of which he had never seen even at the academy.

Avoiding the equipment he could not understand, Du Pont walked to an empty desk and sat down. The moment he reached for his waist pouch, ink, a quill pen, and several yellowed sheets of parchment appeared on the tabletop out of thin air.

That would have been a haunting in his previous life, but ghosts appearing in a magical world was nothing strange. Du Pont did not immediately begin writing. Instead, he carefully inspected the items. Only after confirming that there was no writing on either side of the parchment did he relax.

Whether he could achieve anything was another matter. But right now, he absolutely could not fall into another trap.