Construct Armor

Mages practiced a craft of extraordinary precision. Whether condensing Spell Circles or building magic models, they had to contend with thousands upon thousands of factors, some controllable and some not. No matter how powerful a mage's mental strength was, it was impossible to account for every factor perfectly with every spell. Magic therefore allowed a certain margin for error. Many mages could cast the same spell, but its effects and power varied from person to person.

Generally speaking, when an Apprentice-Rank mage cast a first-circle spell, it produced only half—or even a third—of the effect it would in the hands of a Formal Mage. A Magic Apprentice's casting often contained thirty to forty percent errors and omissions. Even if they managed to release the spell, its power inevitably suffered.

By the same token, a similar gap existed between Formal Mages and Legendary Mages.

Yet Cyrabelle was quietly startled as she watched Green cast. His Death Vines and Corpse Explosion were nearly flawless, textbook examples of spellcasting. Even compared with her, a Legendary Mage, his casting skill was hardly inferior.

"A genius! This Wood Slater really is a genius at magic!" The more Cyrabelle thought about it, the more certain she became that some powerful figure had recognized Green's talent and turned him from a Knight, a profession he was ill-suited to, into a Necromancer.

What Cyrabelle did not know was that Green's ability had nothing to do with talent. He could cast this well entirely because the Graveyard had converted his profession and skills into a character template.

Meanwhile, the assassin, who had thought himself certain to die, struggled to his feet in the snow. At the sight of the huge crater Corpse Explosion had left nearby, a chill ran through him. He turned toward the camp. Knowing Green must