Gret's path to becoming a mage began in peace.
There was none of the scheming, face-slapping, or noble brats bullying commoners he'd read about in web novels in his previous life. Nothing at all.
On his way from Hartland City to the Mage Tower, Gret had imagined countless familiar scenarios, but not one of them came to pass. It wasn't that his fellow students were all paragons of virtue who followed some twenty-four-character moral code. It was simply that...there was no one around.
Magister German was nowhere to be seen.
Magister Eliot, the one who'd been blasted out of the Mage Tower last time, was nowhere to be seen either.
It was so quiet outside the Mage Tower that Gret could hear birdsong. He guessed that the experiment was going well, or that Magister Eliot had switched to a different experiment and wouldn't be causing an explosion anytime soon.
He couldn't see any of the other low-rank mages or Mage Apprentices, either. When Gret had arrived yesterday, Magister German had mentioned his "disciples," so there must have been more than one.
Considering that yesterday's explosion had happened on the fourth floor, and Magister German had only allowed him to read the books on the first floor, Gret had reason to believe there was a separate library for mages and Mage Apprentices upstairs. These extraordinary people, who had already stepped into the world of magic, spent their time on the second floor or above. They had no reason to come downstairs.
As for lessons...all he could say was, perhaps today just wasn't a teaching day?
The library on the first floor of the Mage Tower was empty. Gret was the only one there.
The servant guarding the Mage Tower's entrance led him to the library, tossed off a "You're not allowed upstairs," then turned and left. Gret had wanted to ask where the washroom was, but before he could get a word out, the man had vanished...
He hadn't even given him a jug of water.
Well, school libraries back in his old world hadn't provided drinking water either. He was used to it. He was used to it.
Gret set down his backpack and walked over to the shelves. The moment he stepped into the library, the first thing he noticed was the shelving: fine, dark chestnut wood, reaching from floor to ceiling. The tops of the columns and shelves were carved with exquisite patterns. Just looking at the decoration made him feel that the books on them must be worth a fortune.
...This shelf alone must be worth a year of my salary, right?
Gret wondered to himself as he quickly surveyed the books. There weren't many—only two shelves' worth. The books were enormous and thick, each as long as his elbow to his fingertips, and nearly as thick as his fist.
To fit books of that size, the shelves had only four levels from top to bottom. The boards between each level were clearly solid wood, over five centimeters thick, and even so, they bowed under the weight.
The books were so huge that there couldn't have been more than a hundred of them across both shelves...
Gret did a quick calculation. That was all right. Compared with the textbooks for his seven-year combined bachelor's and master's program...well, by sheer number, they were about the same, haha.
After all, his medical textbooks had been dubbed "Blue Love and Death" by the younger students who came after him. There were fifty-three of them, and once he added political science, general education courses, and some electives taken just to fill credits, the textbooks alone came close to a hundred.
And aside from the textbooks, medicine came with a whole pile of workbooks, reference materials, clinical guidelines, and all sorts of other things. He had to memorize every last one.
Studying was his specialty. He wasn't afraid.
Gret silently gave himself a pep talk. Now, all he had to do was pick out the books he needed to read!
The titles Magister German had mentioned!
Basic Spells!
Magic Pattern Construction!
Elemental Introduction!
Potions!
And, most fundamental of all, Magic Script!
The other books on the shelves might be important too, but he'd better start with the basics!
Gret tilted his head to read the lettering on the spines, but couldn't make anything of it. He tilted his head to the left. Still couldn't tell what the words said. He couldn't even tell whether they were written vertically or horizontally, or whether they slanted left or right. With no other option, he tilted his head to the right...
After going back and forth and doing a few rounds of neck exercises, Gret finally accepted the cruel truth. He couldn't recognize a single character on the spines.
No choice, then. He'd have to check the text inside!
He rose onto his tiptoes and lifted a book off the shelf. The moment he picked it up, his arms sank under its weight. He had to put in extra effort just to hold it steady.
...It was heavy!
Being a librarian was hard physical labor in this era, wasn't it?
Gret clicked his tongue. Carefully carrying the book to the table, he set it down and straightened it, then studied the cover. The deep blue leather was thick and soft to the touch, decorated with looping silver cursive that twisted and curled like vines. Gret studied it for a while without making any headway, so he had no choice but to open the title page.
He couldn't read it.
Still couldn't read it.
He flipped all the way to the main text, but still had no idea what the book was about. He couldn't recognize the writing, either. The one saving grace was that this massive book was handwritten, with characters over ten times larger than the print in his previous life. The whole book probably contained no more than a tenth as much information.
No, not even a tenth. The pages beneath his hand were several times thicker than those in his previous life, yellowed and rough, with visible fibers. Thicker paper meant fewer pages, so it made sense that there was less information recorded in it.
Gret let out a sigh of relief, but then the thought made his heart tighten again. Paper-making was still quite crude in this era, so it could only be used to record ordinary knowledge.
It stood to reason that when he eventually had to copy spells and the like, the paper, parchment, or monster hide he used would cost several times more to start with. If the material was too poor, it wouldn't be able to withstand the power of magic, and would probably burn up as soon as he finished writing...
So he'd have to pay for the materials himself when he copied spells!
He'd have to buy his own paper, pens, and ink!
He'd have to check the prices later...ugh, he felt so poor...
Gret sighed, closed the book with tears in his eyes, carried it back to the shelf, and went to fetch the second book.
The second book.
Couldn't read it.
The third book.
Couldn't read it.
...The tenth book.
Couldn't read it...
A fine sheen of sweat had already formed on his body, partly from the effort and partly from anxiety. He'd arrived early, so he wasn't hungry yet, but he'd already experienced every last hardship: laboring his muscles and bones, starving his body, and having his plans disrupted...
No wonder librarian was a hidden profession. You really could accomplish great things in this line of work!
He wiped his sweat and kept moving books. The title of the seventeenth book was finally written in the common tongue: The Archmage's Journey of Miracles. Gret had a bad feeling as soon as he read the title. He flipped through a couple of pages, and sure enough, it was a novel...
A trashy adventure novel, at that. The kind that wouldn't even get a contract on Qidian.
...So after all that effort and sweat, how many of the books he'd hauled over were novels?
Oh, no...
Gret beat his chest. The bad news was that he'd have to battle these novels for who knew how long. The good news was that there were fewer textbooks he'd need to read (memorize)...
"You can't go on like this."
A voice suddenly sounded behind him.
Gret's hand froze as he reached for a book.
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