Promotion Exam (Part 2)

"Whoosh—" The Frostbolt, utterly unremarkable in the eyes of countless full-fledged mages, shot out with perfect accuracy.

Its mana did not dissipate, nor did it possess earth-shattering power.

It simply flew toward Medivh.

On a battlefield, if a mage in a mage corps cast a Frostbolt like that, they would at least receive a passing evaluation.

It might not kill a fully armed soldier, but it could at least take down an unarmed peasant conscript.

That was about the extent of its power.

If it had been cast by a mage from a mage corps, no one would have thought much of it. Yet paired with Duke's absurdly young face, his performance immediately stirred towering waves in the mages' hearts.

Damn it! How old was this kid?

Two standard, flawless level-one spells. Though they seemed ordinary, when they recalled Duke's performance in the trial space, the mages could no longer remain calm.

Reverse-engineering the magical formulas contained within a magic item was a skill that only an expert-level enchanter could master.

What a terrifying genius!

Remembering how they had recklessly joined forces to attack this super-genius, who would surely be protected by Medivh, these arrogant mages felt the regret of having kissed a horse's ass only to get kicked.

Anyone could see that Duke had nearly exhausted his mana.

Casting a third spell would be far too much for a body that was only at apprentice level. By this point, no one doubted that Duke could cast a third spell.

The only question was when.

At that moment, Duke suddenly raised his hand. His somewhat limp fingers began tracing seemingly meaningless gestures through the air. As his fingers moved, everyone could clearly see blue trails of light—the glow of arcane energy—forming where his index finger passed.

[Arcane Intellect]!?

An old mage gave a soft laugh and thought to himself, A rookie is still a rookie.

One of the most standard preparatory spells before casting was [Arcane Intellect]. It temporarily enhanced one's intelligence, increasing not only one's mana limit but also slightly boosting the power of magic.

No one bothered to remind or ridicule Duke. To them, what he was doing now was exactly what a rookie ought to do. Because such an ordinary mistake had appeared amid his otherwise perfect performance, they suddenly did not feel quite so bad anymore.

No matter how gifted he was, Duke was still only human!

Over there, anyone could see that Duke was in poor condition.

At the edge of the field, old Norton finally could not help pinching his nose and warning him, "Don't force yourself. Rest now, or you might damage your magic circuits."

Magic circuits were where the human body stored mana. A well-trained apprentice mage could continually use meditation to safely and steadily widen their magic circuits, allowing their body to hold more mana and cast stronger spells.

Magic circuits were not fixed. At certain times, they could be damaged by various accidents, or powerful impacts could open up more and broader circuits.

Right now, Duke was clearly squeezing his own potential dry, forcing himself to immediately cast a third level-one spell.

Medivh, controlled by Sargeras's will, perfectly displayed the bearing of a superior and a wise elder. "Young Duke, I strongly advise against continuing at once. You... well... perhaps we are about to witness a miracle."

His eyes were incredibly sharp, and he immediately saw what Duke intended to do.

Duke had deliberately drained his mana with Pyroblast and Frostbolt.

It felt as though his blood were being drawn through a syringe as thick as a stick. Duke felt his vitality, energy, and spirit draining away like floodwater. Even so, he had not yet reached his limit.

If he lost consciousness, the system sprite would take over control of the spell. If he truly died, he could still be revived. Duke went all in, pouring everything he had into completing the final spell.

For a true mage apprentice, this was undoubtedly courting death. But for Duke, it was merely a relatively safe attempt. He wanted to complete this transformation before everyone's eyes. If he could even accomplish this, then any further miracles he created in the future would be deemed "normal," reducing the risk of exposing the system's special existence.

At first, mysterious arcane runes whistled past one after another through Duke's sea of consciousness.

Very soon, after ordering the system to deliberately slow them down, Duke began carefully comparing the functions of these runes that looked like incomprehensible scribbles.

It was difficult to describe exactly how [Arcane Intellect] worked. If he had to make an apt comparison, it was like a tool. For instance, with a grappling hook, a person could climb a sheer cliff that bare hands could never scale.

[Arcane Intellect] could add an extra spell circuit to a mage's body. Yet Duke was using the complete magic circuit granted by Arcane Intellect to continuously compare the places within his body that could potentially become magic circuits, using magical power to alter his body.

Under normal circumstances, according to the common magical theories of Azeroth, one would need to use a superior meditation method, commune with the elemental planes over a long period, and allow arcane energy to gradually seep into and transform the body before opening up new magic circuits.

What Duke was doing now was an extremely dangerous leap forward.

His consciousness was growing increasingly hazy. Duke did not know when he would lose consciousness. But as the last trace of mana in his body was scraped clean, he felt his spiritual world touch a membrane.

On the other side of that membrane was a faint yet unceasing stream of spiritual power. It was also his own strength, and even through the membrane, he could vaguely sense it.

Suddenly, Duke broke through the membrane!

"Detected an increase in the host's maximum mana."

Ignoring the system sprite's notification, Duke focused all his mind on the breakthrough. He absolutely refused to let go of that incomparably wondrous sensation, as though something that did not belong to him had burst forth within his body.

Blood and all manner of bodily fluids should have been the only things flowing through his body. Yet clearly, there was now a third substance—mana in the truest sense, created by magic circuits absorbing external energy, rather than mere magical power converted from his own life force.

Though this mana was faint—like a thin mist blowing into his face—it was like moisture to a traveler parched for days in the desert. Even the thinnest vapor could nourish his body and soul, becoming the strength that drove him onward.

Level-one [Arcane Intellect] complete!

Yet what all the mages valued even more was the faint arcane radiance flickering over Duke's body.

This was unmistakably the mark of a full-fledged mage!