Ranking Match

The fact that "Doctor" was a freshman could not be kept hidden for long. Furthermore, it was certain that Doctor was a noble. First, one could rule out the children of the Ten Great Noble Houses; the rest were easy to track down. Once found, there were plenty of ways to trade for some points.

After all, what kind of person doesn't have "weaknesses"?

It wasn't as if they were taking everything.

With tens of thousands of people in the academy, one could only imagine how many points Doctor had. Once his article was publicized and news spread that the academy had "bought out" his information, even more people went looking for him.

The number of points from that buyout alone was enough to make even the professors green with envy.

What was expected to be an easy task turned into a dead end; after five or six days, not even a shadow of "Doctor" could be found. Later, some instructors even began to join the search, but they also came up empty-handed. It was as if, ever since he appeared in the Wizard Tower that day, he had never surfaced again, vanishing into thin air.

As for leaving the academy, that was impossible; freshmen were not allowed to leave the grounds during their first year, not even to stay just across the gate.

This wave of searching only slowly subsided after a month. This was miserable for the freshmen, who were watched every single day for an entire month; they even had upperclassmen camping out by the restrooms. Those who had originally admired their fellow freshman, Doctor, were now cursing him to death in their hearts.

As for the missing Borne, he had indeed not left the Wizard Tower. To be precise, he was still in the same stone chamber where he had been reading the scrolls.

Upon discovering that he could stay here as long as he didn't voluntarily leave, Borne decided to stay for ten days or half a month. Later, when he found that meditating here was more efficient than outside, he decided to take up residence.

Having been "neurotic" enough to have the Count make him an extra-large capacity pack, Borne had stuffed it full of all sorts of supplies, with enough food to last him half a year.

The environment here was excellent, no one disturbed him, and the magical elements were dense. With a large stash of points in hand, he could get whatever materials or spells he wanted, simply having the Tower Spirit deliver them to his door. For Borne, this was nothing short of a "holy land."

Recently, he discovered a new use for points. Although he couldn't exchange them for dry rations, he could exchange them for fruit. For just one point, he could get a piece of fruit harvested from the Arcane Garden. However, this dim-witted Tower Spirit had no concept of variety; the types and sizes delivered each time were different, and some were even unripe...

After exchanging for a few magical formulas, Borne realized he didn't need to rush to learn new magic. Magic was endless, and the various formulas were diverse; sometimes, a single spell could be constructed in several different ways.

It was like a math problem that could have multiple solutions. Of course, this was limited to low-level magic. Mid-level was fine, but high-level magic basically had only one construction formula—and high-level magic was limited to just the 7th-circle Teleportation spell.

Magic could not be cast simply by waving a wand and reciting a few lines. A formula that suited you might not suit me; even the same song is sung differently by different people. Magic was even more sensitive; if your mental power and mana were slightly off, the spell wouldn't cast, or it might even explode on the spot. That was why spell experimentation was so important.

This led to a humorous saying: a spellcaster spends more than half their life in the laboratory, and the rest in bed.

Submissions could generally be divided into three categories: magical formulas, magical theory, and translated materials.

Borne's constructive submissions were a special case.

Normally, the first type—magical formulas—earned the most points and provided the most follow-up royalties. After all, "taking" existing knowledge was the easiest path. It had the most readers; if there was a ready-made spell, people would naturally learn it directly. Not everyone could derive their own arcane arts, and for the same spell, every new arcane formula was a new way to solve it.

Borne "sold" his first arcane art, Light Orb, for 73 points.

"Selling" spells didn't require review; it could be done directly through the Tower Spirit, which judged the value. For a 0-circle spell with high repetition, it wouldn't fetch a high price.

Borne checked and found that there were over twenty different execution formulas for the Light Orb spell.

As his first spell, Borne had a different understanding of it. He immediately spent 10 points to exchange for two of them to take a look. After all, stones from other hills could serve to polish one's own jade; he didn't believe his formula was necessarily more "perfect" than others.

Sure enough, after reading the two formulas, Borne was deeply moved. He took out some manuscript paper, spread it out, and spent two hours modifying his own formula. Although "World Daddy" didn't provide a reward, when he simulated the release after the modification, Borne clearly felt the overall efficiency had increased by at least thirty percent.

The magic consumption was lower, and the speed was faster!

Looking at the manuscript on the table, Borne tried contacting the Tower Spirit. To his surprise, after the Tower Spirit scanned it, the fresh magical formula could still "sell" for 70 points.

Borne's eyes lit up instantly. He then tried to optimize Light Orb again. After a few attempts, he discovered that as long as the formula was changed by more than twenty percent, the Tower Spirit would classify it as a new spell.

Borne grinned, waved his hand, and exchanged for all the remaining 20 formulas, then began to copy frantically...

Ahem... this was called optimization, streamlining!

Regardless of whether the Tower Spirit believed it or not, Borne believed it. This was contributing to the academy; the points didn't matter, it was about increasing the spell inventory and helping other students learn magic faster...

Uh...

Fine, he couldn't even convince himself.

By simplifying each formula, in less than 3 days, Borne had raked in another 1100 points. And one had to remember, this was just the initial income; he would also receive "royalties" as other students exchanged for them later.

This was what you called sustainable development.

Borne seemed to have found the password to wealth and threw himself back into optimizing formulas.

Optimization didn't necessarily mean streamlining; adding a bit more wasn't impossible. As for whether the extra parts were useful or not, as long as they didn't affect the execution of the spell, it was fine.

In this way, Borne raked in another 600 points, and after scraping together bits and pieces for another 200, he finally gave up because the time cost of "optimization" had become too high.

Seeing his points rise to over two thousand, Borne felt much better.

Not only that, but Borne's understanding of Light Orb had reached a new level. It wasn't just a sphere anymore; it could even take on various shapes—animals, birds, fish, and insects.

Don't think this was just flashy and useless; it represented that Borne's understanding of this magic had reached a new height. Now, when casting Light Orb, Borne could use it with a single thought, with almost no consumption of spell slots or mana—it was nearly instinctive!

This was terrifying. Light Orb was a 0-circle cantrip, still at the apprentice level. What if it were other offensive spells...

After careful consideration, Borne decided to fleece some more wool from the 0-circle spell Mage Hand.

The main reason was certainly that Mage Hand had many formula templates for reference. It was definitely not because 0-circle cantrips were safe and had little backlash—Borne would never admit to that!!!

As one of the signature spells for a spellcaster, Mage Hand could move objects weighing no more than 5 pounds.

Just as Borne was engrossed in researching Mage Hand, his exploitation of the Wizard Tower's loopholes was finally reported by someone—or rather, a group of people.

It turned out that this room was specifically for the academy to view the Nether Scroll. As long as someone was inside, outsiders couldn't enter. It was understandable to find it occupied once or twice, but for it to be inaccessible for over two months was a problem.

Initially, the academy didn't pay much attention. After asking the Tower Spirit and receiving the reply that it was occupied, they didn't think much of it, until more and more teachers and professors complained, forcing the academy's upper management to take it seriously.

In the end, it had to be reported to the Dean, as the administrative permissions for the Wizard Tower were in his hands.

Through the Tower Spirit's backend data, the Dean quickly understood what had happened, and even discovered Borne's trick of using the same spell formula to farm points.

"Heh, this kid..."

The Dean chuckled.

However, he did not throw Borne out, instead instructing the Tower Spirit to partition off a new secret chamber.

Seven days later, Borne began to alter the form of his [Mage Hand]. The consciousness of the world descended once more, but because this was a 0-level spell, the duration of enlightenment was not as long as it had been during his advancement, and he was quickly kicked out.

Before Borne could even complain, the scene before his eyes shifted again, and he was dropped directly outside the Wizard Tower.

"Eh? Whoa, whoa, whoa..."

He landed squarely on his backside, surrounded by a mess of scattered manuscripts and daily refuse.

Borne rubbed his rear and stood up; if he didn't realize what was going on by now, there would be something wrong with his brain.

Ignoring the onlookers' gazes, Borne hurriedly gathered his manuscripts. Just as he lifted a foot to leave, a chill ran down his back...

He pulled his foot back.

Then, to the astonishment of the passersby, Borne snapped his fingers, and seven or eight pale blue Mage Hands appeared to clean up the trash.

The crowd, who had been there just to watch the spectacle, was suddenly stunned by Borne's display.

It was the first time they had ever seen someone use [Mage Hand] for such a task.

If one ignored the fact that he was picking up trash, the dexterity with which Borne controlled the [Mage Hand] was even more proficient than that of the instructors.

There were those among the crowd who knew their stuff, and they instantly realized that Borne was casting an Arcanum.

"He can actually control so many [Mage Hands] at once?!"

"Such precise control—is he one of the instructors?"

"Hey, hey, hey, are you stupid? Why would an instructor be thrown... er, sent out by the 'Tower Spirit'? He must be a senior student!"

"A student? Sigh, I wonder if I'll be able to advance to Arcanist before I graduate..."

After clearing the 'crime scene,' Borne slipped away immediately, giving no one in the vicinity a chance to come up and strike up a conversation.

The news of Borne performing multi-threaded control of [Mage Hand] in front of the Wizard Tower also spread throughout the academy.

After all, everyone loves gossip. Every so often, someone gets tossed out by the Wizard Tower for maxing out their points; these people are mostly commoners, and they usually become the subject of ridicule for the nobles during their leisure time.

But this time, it was a bit interesting that an Arcanist—suspected to be a senior—had been tossed out, and it immediately became a hot topic.

Why was it only suspected?

Although Borne had been holed up for over two months, looking disheveled and unkempt with his features obscured, which Arcanist in the academy—especially those who hadn't graduated yet—wasn't a person of note? Even if you couldn't see their face clearly, you could usually identify them by other means.

Yet, this person was clearly not among those who were usually watched; he seemed to have just popped out of nowhere.

The semester was almost over, and the ranking tournament was about to begin. Where did an Arcanist suddenly appear from? And since almost no one recognized him, it was as if they had seen a ghost.

No matter how low-key a person is, if they live in a place for several years, they leave a trail of life. And yet, here at Giles Academy, with tens of thousands of people, no one knew this person existed.

Not recognizing him was one thing, but not even knowing if he existed was another; it was as if this Arcanist had appeared out of thin air.

The Tower Spirit would not make a mistake; only students were thrown out, which meant this person had to be a student of Giles Academy. If it were an outside intruder, they wouldn't just be thrown out—they wouldn't be human!

Soon, the suspicion fell upon Borne, as he was the only one in decades to have advanced to Arcanist before enrollment, aside from Borne Ioulaum.

Regardless, it was all just wild guessing, and everyone became increasingly excited, to the point where the rumors about this person became more and more bizarre...

Time slowly drifted toward the academy ranking tournament.

"Ranking tournament?"

"All students? The title of Chief?"

"So much trouble... the Chief only gets five hundred points... hmm, that's doable, but a ranking tournament at this time..."

"Eh? Isn't this just the final exam..."

Borne held the announcement of the competition rules and grumbled.

Being a 'cautious' person by nature, he was averse to this kind of fame.

If he fought, he would definitely be the top freshman, but if he threw the match, would his grandfather beat him to death...

However, when he saw the note at the end stating that the Chief would have the right to read the Nether Scrolls, his eyes lit up instantly, and he ignored the point total mentioned earlier.

If there was anything currently most attractive to Borne, it was the Nether Scrolls.

Set a small goal: take the Chief title first!

The day of the ranking tournament arrived quickly. This was the busiest day of the academy, aside from the start of the term, and the academy would invite high-ranking officials of Netheril to observe the ceremony.

This was the academy's tradition!

When the academy was first built, it had almost hollowed out all of Netheril. Don't let the 'Tower Spirit' of the Wizard Tower act like a simpleton; back when the Dean was building this tower, he had visited every noble in Netheril one by one just to scrape together enough resources.

It is said that even now, the Dean still has some outstanding debts to pay off.

Before the academy existed, the extraordinary system of Netheril was primarily based on the master-apprentice model. At that time, spellcasters were still called wizards, the extraordinary system was in complete chaos, and even then, it was monopolized by the upper echelons. Coupled with the raids by the Orcs, the people at the bottom saw almost no hope.

If it weren't for Concinnio ascending to Legend and using his formidable martial might to "persuade" the Nether leadership to establish the academy, providing the military with hundreds of spellcasters every year, Nether would have long since been overrun by the Orcs.

The Dean also proved his foresight through his actions; by utilizing the knowledge from the Nether Scroll to rapidly establish a magical system belonging to Nether, he brought about the current prosperity of the nation. It is no exaggeration to say that Concinnio is the founder of their arcane civilization!

Actual combat is the only way to test results, and the Dean's immense prestige in Nether was earned through his own strength.

Beyond gaining combat experience, the most important aspect of the ranking tournament is self-promotion!

Yes, promotion. Every student who graduates from the academy must serve three years in the military. This is actually a reduced term, thanks to the decrease in warfare over the last twenty years; previously, it was five years or even longer. Military bigwigs also attend the matches to observe.

Scouting for talent early...

Everyone understands how it works.

If you are lucky enough to catch someone's eye, at least those three years will be much easier, and you might even go much further in your career.

After all, if you claim you're capable, how can anyone know if you're just a "keyboard warrior" without a fight? The battlefield is ever-changing, and there is no shortage of examples where low-tier combatants have toppled those of higher rank.

Since the venue is limited and there are so many students, the ranking tournament is held from the senior grades down to the junior grades to stimulate the students.

"I heard the service rules are changing starting this year, and there are more places to choose from..."

"I heard representatives from Habridge City and Zenith City are coming over too..."

"There are so many more observers this year compared to last year. There must be some changes coming..."

The chatter and gossip all around left Borne speechless. He had thought spellcasters were supposed to be aloof and rational.

Forget it, he might as well watch the matches and see what the senior level is like...

Borne watched with anticipation, only to realize after two days that he had watched nothing of substance.

Except for a few, the rest were "truly" fighting.

Yes... "truly" fighting, the kind where they just grab their weapons and go at it.

If they didn't occasionally cast a spell or two, one would think they were warriors.

Borne didn't know there were so many "magic-martial" dual-cultivators, and the further down the list he went, the more bizarre it got. Later on, they didn't even fight; some just went through the motions, conceding as soon as they stepped onto the stage, then walking off laughing and chatting. Did they have no shame?

The slightly better ones would trade a couple of spells before deciding the winner, like a fixed match, and a blatant one at that.

What happened to the flashy magical duels he was promised?

What about the secret arts, the power-ups, and the dramatic explosions?

This is so different from Japanese anime!

If this were a book, it would get terrible reviews!

Borne frowned, observing that the surrounding audience wasn't surprised at all, as if they were accustomed to it.

"So that's how it is... sigh..."

Borne pondered for a moment, then felt relieved.

Of course, there wouldn't be any intense duels. This isn't an anime or a novel. They've only been learning magic for a few years; the oldest are only seventeen or eighteen. Even if they had started as early as Borne, they would have only been studying for fifteen years at most—and those with such opportunities are rare, usually the key proteges of their respective families.

The vast majority only truly encounter magic during these five years at the academy. How much can one learn in five years? A spell must go through a tortuous process from acquisition to mastery; experiments need verification, and experiments require materials. If you don't have materials, you have to find or buy them. Even if you gather everything and "learn" it, do you really know it?

Spells require incantations, gestures, and the construction of spell models to be cast. In battle, an enemy won't stand there waiting for you to get ready. Moving while casting and rapid casting aren't for everyone; they require a profound understanding of magic.

Otherwise, if you make a mistake and trigger a magical backlash, you won't even need the enemy to hit you—you'll be down on your own.

Five years is too short. Most haven't even mastered high-tier spells, let alone casting techniques.

Rolling up one's sleeves and brawling is the mainstream. Being able to cast a spell during a "fight" is considered quite excellent. Furthermore, the ones starting the tournament are the low-ranked ones, commonly known as: academic failures.

It's not that they are throwing the matches; it's that they seem to have a very clear understanding of their own standing, or perhaps a clear understanding of their opponents.

The senior tournament is arranged starting from the bottom. For example, the student ranked 742nd faces the 741st. If the 742nd wins, they take the 741st's spot and can choose to challenge anyone in the top 10 of that bracket (730th–740th). If they win again, they take that person's spot and can continue challenging upward.

The reason Borne felt it was like a fixed match is that as the rankings get higher, the strength clearly increases—and this "strength" doesn't just refer to the amount of mana.

There is no such thing as a "power-up" in magic. If you have a lot of mana, you still have to be able to use it. If you have high mana but poor spellcasting, it's perfectly normal to be taken down by someone with less mana but better mastery.

This is why the higher the ranking, the more "watered down" the matches seem. Students in the same grade with similar rankings know each other well. To put it bluntly, don't they know their own limits? Those who could have surpassed others already have. Even if they want to climb, they need to be sure they can jump at least ten spots, otherwise, it's not worth much. Aside from the top 10, there's a reward every ten ranks.

Fortunately, the final top-ten matches didn't disappoint Borne. Only then did the representatives on the viewing platform show interest and watch "seriously."

The top ten of the fifth year can indeed be called the academy's elite, and logically, there's nothing wrong with that, but Borne still felt something was missing.

Of the ten, six were Arcanists who could use spells in combat, but the final victories were all decided by martial prowess, not magic. The matches felt more like sword-fighting competitions where magic was merely an auxiliary.

Seeing such a magical tournament, Borne didn't know how to complain; his worldview had shattered into pieces.

Yet, he later realized this was reasonable—this was reality!

Those flashy magical duels only exist in fantasy.

After that, Borne didn't hold much hope for the second, third, and fourth-year matches. With the time spent watching these "fixed matches," he might as well go research another spell and scrape together some points.

Although he had been kicked out of the Wizard Tower last time, the "bug" for farming points still worked. Not only that, Borne discovered another "loophole": incomplete spell models could also be submitted. They just didn't yield as many points as complete ones—less than half, in fact.

But even a mosquito's leg is meat, right?

Borne began his wool-gathering operation again. A new spell model could be sold twice; it was simply too satisfying.

With the experience gained from grinding Light Orb, this time was even more familiar, and in less than a week, he had banked over three thousand points. Borne felt this was far more lucrative than any ranking tournament.

However, Borne was also determined to secure the title of Chief. According to the background information in his memories, the Nether Scroll would gradually be lost for various reasons, so he had to finish reading it in its entirety before it vanished.

Soon, the first-year tournament finally arrived. This was the most intense time of the annual competition, as this ranking would essentially determine one's standing for the next four years.

This was no joke; it was a pattern summarized by Giles Academy over the past hundred years: the higher the rank, the more points one received.

What were points? They were resources, the fuel for becoming stronger!

Those who could enter the academy generally had decent talent (with a few exceptions), but taking the lead by even one step would truly leave those behind in the dust. This was no exaggeration.

The Chief received 500 points. How many papers would one need to submit to earn that? How much time would it consume? By the time you caught up to others, they would have already used those points to acquire even more resources.

Of course, there were those who could come from behind; every year, there were dark horses who staged a comeback, but that didn't change the big picture. Most people's positions were set in their first year.

Therefore, the first-year tournament was particularly brutal, with some even suffering injuries, which led the academy to specifically bring in clerics.

Freshman rankings were calculated based on enrollment time. Since Borne had joined midway through the term, he was ranked last, which meant he was the first freshman to take the stage.

The people watching this match included not only students from all grades but also the academy's top brass and representatives from various factions.

By now, it was basically confirmed that the mysterious Arcanist, the "Doctor," was a freshman, and one who had enrolled midway.

"Will number 763, Borne Ioulaum, and number 762, Haul Walker, please take the stage..."

When the referee announced the name Borne Ioulaum, the audience erupted into an uproar.

"It really is him, the grandson of Count Ioulaum..."

"The youngest Arcanist in Netheril..."

"Didn't they say his arcane art was Light Orb? Could there be another Arcanist?"

"Could he have mastered two arcane arts at such a young age?"

Many students and representatives turned their gazes toward the viewing platform, where the academy's top brass, Dean Concinnio, and several vice deans were seated.

Feeling the gazes coming from all directions, Borne felt somewhat uncomfortable. Looking was one thing, but this unbridled "peering" was a bit much.

Various detection spells and mental scans swept over him.

Damn it... are you guys ever going to stop?

Borne just wanted to curse. He secretly vowed that in the future, he would research a magic that could not only prevent detection but also counter it.

Of course, for now, Borne could only grumble to himself as he walked onto the arena with a look of annoyance.

"Heh, the little guy has quite a personality!"

"Hahaha..."

Borne's reaction drew laughter from the big shots.

Compared to the amusement of the big shots, the upperclassmen could only sigh, while the freshmen felt a bit of despair.

An Arcanist among the freshmen...

It was equivalent to pre-booking the Chief title. How were they supposed to play? It was like a king mixed in with a group of bronze players.

Was there even any fun left to be had?

Of course, there was no shortage of those with overflowing confidence. Who didn't want to fight for the first-place spot? They were all first-years, so who was really worse than whom?

For instance, Borne's first opponent, Haul Walker, was full of confidence.

Before enrolling, he had been praised by his swordsmanship teacher, and his sword skills ranked among the top of his peers.

"It's just Mage Hand, a trash spell that can only move five pounds of weight. It won't have much impact!"

Haul kept psyching himself up.

The two arrived at the arena simultaneously. The referee glanced at Borne, who was empty-handed, and couldn't help but remind him, "This student, you may choose a weapon for the match!"

"Thank you, teacher, but that won't be necessary."

Borne politely declined the teacher's kind reminder.

The referee nodded and spoke again: "Do you require a casting distance?"

This time, the question was directed at both of them.

"No need!"

Borne refused directly.

"I... I don't need it either..."

Haul was surprised at first, then became angry. He felt slighted and secretly resolved to make Borne pay later!

The casting distance allowed mages to start 10 meters apart in a duel, giving the caster enough time to chant spells. Without it, the distance between the two was only 3 meters.

Haul quickly formulated his strategy: "Use my physical advantage to accelerate and close the distance for a direct strike!"

Borne's age was no secret. Even if he was an Arcanist, how much strength could he have when his body hadn't fully developed yet?

Seeing that Borne himself had refused, the referee didn't meddle further and shouted aloud.

"Prepare for the match..."

"Begin..."

The referee swung his large hand downward.

Haul quickly bent his knees and pushed off the ground, his right hand simultaneously gripping the hilt of his sword.

A lunge, a draw, and a diagonal slash.

Even the most rigorous master of swordsmanship would have found it difficult to find fault with this movement.

"I win..."

The two-meter distance was crossed in the blink of an eye. Just as Haul thought he had won, a sharp pain suddenly erupted in his abdomen, and his sword-wielding wrist instantly lost all sensation. As his longsword clattered to the ground, a sharp pain struck his head, and he collapsed directly to the floor, unconscious.

In an instant, the entire arena erupted into chaos.