Magic Bulletin!
Good news, good news: the second disciple of the great Legendary Archmage had learned magic.
Bad news, bad news: Harry could only use Defense Magic.
Over the past few days, Harry had made astonishing progress in his magic studies.
He had learned two 1st-level spells, Spirit Armor Technique and Shield Technique; three 2nd-level spells, Resist Energy Damage, Enhanced Resistance, and Protect Arrows; and even two 3rd-level spells, Reverse Explosion and Reverse Arrows, which let him reflect two kinds of attacks back at his opponent.
Harry could at least put up a bit of a fight now.
By the standards of ancient mages, Harry could definitely be called a Formal Mage in the truest sense.
Harry himself was quite pleased. Even though he could only use one school of magic, he didn't consider it shameful—in fact, he took pride in it. He even found time to show off to his family.
Everyone had a different worldview, and different standards for living and learning.
In Harry's eyes, learning so much magic in "such a short time" was already an incredible achievement.
Compared with Downs, though, he was nowhere near as good.
Lein was at his wit's end.
The damn title, "You're the worst class I've ever taught," had successfully passed from Downs to Harry.
Harry wasn't as quick as Downs when casting spells, but Lein could live with that. What really made his heart seize up was that Harry couldn't cast a single spell without striking that painfully embarrassing pose and making those "pew-pew-pew" incantation sounds.
Don't ask.
The answer was: "Aren't these the casting gestures and spell activation chants you taught me, Master?"
Lein kept interrogating his own conscience: Had I done something awful in my past life? Why are all my disciples such oddballs?
Could anyone who spent