After washing up, Angel changed into a fresh set of clothes and left the tent. Toby, dressed in his flamboyant outfit, had flown off somewhere. In any case, Toby would definitely return at night, so Angel did not bother with him.
For the past week, his life had followed the same two-point line every day. His mentor's library had become a place he visited without fail.
While eating breakfast earlier, Angel had still been thinking about the books he had read these past few days.
He understood the principle that greedily swallowing too much only led to indigestion. The books he had read lately were all fundamentals among fundamentals, starting with A Hundred Questions an Apprentice Needs to Know, Detailed Explanation of Spellcraft, The Function of Mental Power Models, and Fundamentals of the Magic Source. He had already begun to form a complete outline of what a wizard was in his mind.
Sanders had not come to instruct him, nor had Flora come to pester him. The image of a wizard he was constructing now had been built entirely by himself through reading documents, breaking down definitions one by one, digging into foundations piece by piece, shaving away until only the bones remained, then filling them with flesh and blood, creating a wizard through his own consciousness.
This was the wizard in his heart.
Though this "wizard" still had no facial features, no robe, no organs—everything about him was vague—Angel believed that as he saw more and read more, "he" would become increasingly complete. In the end, he would become someone with a face identical to Angel's. At that time, Angel would become a wizard.
Angel felt that perhaps this was precisely why his cheap mentor had let him read and think for himself.
To stand atop a high roof