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The study of the arcane was a long and tedious process, and neither arcane mimicry nor the use of metamagic techniques could be mastered in a day. As a member of an Alchemist Family, Patrick also needed to make potions and alchemical materials every day. Without regular practice, his skills would grow rusty over time.

He left the laboratory for the library, intending to learn several fourth-circle arcane spells.

Transmutation School: Spell Amplification.

Conjuration School: Torrent of Sorcery.

Abjuration: Dimensional Anchor.

Conjuration School: Force Orb.

Relying on Ellen's powerful Spiritual Power and arcane control, he memorized the spells directly, leaving their specific arcane nodes, arcane runes, and flows of arcane energy for careful study afterward.

Dath'Remar's Library held many books, including numerous arcane spells that mages had transcribed, reproduced, and summarized. These were a great help to Patrick's studies.

Three feet of ice did not form in a single cold day; water did not wear through stone overnight. More than a decade of study before his transmigration had taught Patrick that understanding and mastering his predecessors' summaries of arcane knowledge and their learning methods was the best path to improvement. By accumulating knowledge and progressing step by step, success would naturally come to him.

[Your Spiritual Power training can advance another step. Ordinary exercises in constructing mental structures and casting with Spiritual Power are no longer meaningful. You can now try mental attunement, synchronizing the mana fluctuations and arcane frequencies of spellcasting with your mental world.]

With that in mind, he began his first attempt. Drawing on the arcane energy within his body, Patrick began forming an arcane orb and absorbing and activating the arcane energy radiating from the Sunwell around him. Patrick himself knew that frequently absorbing the Sunwell's radiation was deeply satisfying. That pleasure of being filled suffused every cell in his body and would leave him with a severe addiction to magic, but when using the arcane, it was also a choice he could not avoid.

That was how arcane study worked. Otherwise, the high elves would not have suffered so terribly after Silvermoon City fell and the Sunwell was corrupted.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Cabrolon. Master Thas'wether would like to see you. Please come to the tower master's chamber."

The visitor was Thas'wether's apprentice, Lorathelis, the young apprentice who would later return to the floating tower to shut down the arcane crystals.

"Oh, good day, Mr. Cabrolon," Thas'wether said. "How have you found studying here?"

"The deeper I delve into arcane knowledge, the more ignorant I feel. There is so much I need to learn."

"Mr. Cabrolon, your talent for arcane study astonishes me. There is no telling what your future holds. If you are willing to pursue further studies at the Royal Academy of Arcane Arts, your future will be even more boundless. I have prepared a letter of recommendation to help you enter the Royal Academy of Arcane Arts and continue your education."

"Thank you for going to such trouble. Although the Royal Academy of Arcane Arts is the foremost arcane academy in Quel'Thalas..." Patrick bowed his head slightly in respect. "I have already planned the path of my future arcane studies."

"The recommendation has already been written. If you choose to join the Royal Academy of Arcane Arts in the future, you can still use it." With that, a sheet of magical paper printed with exquisite patterns floated toward Patrick.

Patrick accepted the pale blue letter. His arcane senses detected its properties: impervious to wear, an anti-forgery mark, and immunity to alteration.

"Then thank you for your kindness!"

If he joined the Royal Academy of Arcane Arts, he would naturally become one of the Royalists, becoming deeply entangled in Silvermoon City's power struggles and engrossed in gains and losses of interest. It would be difficult to make any great advances in his arcane research afterward.

Decades later, Arthas's cavalry would break through the gates of Silvermoon City, and even his own safety could not be guaranteed. In the future, only his elder brother and sister-in-law would remain of the entire Cabrolon family, still teaching alchemy and herbalism in Silvermoon City. None of the others would survive. Perhaps traces of the other family members could be found in the Dead Scar.

Back in his quarters, Patrick put the recommendation into his magical cloth bag. There was still some time before Arthas would be born.

Patrick had enough time to prepare for the disasters to come. He devoted himself wholeheartedly to cultivating his arcane abilities. Unlike other elves, Patrick had a human soul, and a dozen or so years was enough for a human to focus on accomplishing a single task. Although most high elves approached life as something to enjoy, there were also many elves with goals who worked tirelessly toward them.

The social classes of the high elves were somewhat similar to those of a certain Stars and Stripes Country (speaking only of the composition of its social classes). Social classes were rigid, and commoners lacked avenues for advancement. It felt rather as though they were "forced" into idleness.

Arcane resources, Sunwell quotas, and techniques for practicing magic were all monopolized by the Great Houses and Great Clans. With no hope of advancement, those at the bottom had little to do but sink into decadence. Thus, the high elf population had stopped growing, and the quality of the population was even showing a downward trend. The clans in the Silvermoon Council fought both openly and covertly merely to increase their leverage, neglecting the factors needed for social development.

Perhaps it is time to realize my worth somewhere else, Patrick thought.

Patrick intended to end his studies at Thas'wether's Tower and return to his family. This counted as Patrick's first long journey away from home, and although it had lasted only a few short months, he truly missed home.

Among the high elves, some felt little even when work or other reasons kept them apart for years. After all, high elf lifespans were measured in centuries. To an elf, a few years probably felt like a mere fortnight, passing in the blink of an eye.

Magic had given the high elves greater fighting power, convenience in daily life, and long lifespans, but it had also taken away many things they once possessed, such as the bond of kinship thicker than water, the positive values every elf should have, and the realization of an elf's own worth in society.

After bidding Thas'wether farewell that morning, Patrick accompanied a caravan back to Silvermoon City.

It was evening by the time he reached home. The gate was still familiar, as were the tower, the room, and the bed.

The first thing he did upon arriving home was collapse onto the bed he had been away from for so long. Its familiar scent soothed his mind.

"Young Master Patrick, the head of the family has prepared a welcome-home banquet for you tonight." Melaris's voice came from outside the door.

After a brief nap, he bathed, washed away the dust covering him, and went to the dining room.

"Welcome home, my son," Phil Cabrolon said.

Everyone in the family was there today, celebrating his return. Patrick recounted the details of his studies at Thas'wether's Tower, and his family listened quietly, occasionally asking what he had gained and learned. It was a moment filled with warmth. The concentration of his family's affection at that moment might have exceeded the concentration of arcane particles in the Sunwell. If there were no war in the future, perhaps I would keep living like this, Patrick thought.