System [Aether Designation] acquired.

Or at least, that was what Noa had been hoping to see pop up in his vision. Instead, he wrestled with the silver strand of mana━ahem, aether, he had in front of him. Forming the strand in the first place required minimal effort, and was probably something Yoda taught him more than Elvethor did. “Do or do not. There is no try.”

For once, Yoda wasn’t a senile pocket-sized liar━may he rest in peace. Simply by envisioning the strand of aether, Noa pulled it from his chest, and it writhed, unfettered before him. The problem now that it was outside of him was that he had to fetter it by giving it a denomination, preferably somatacy.

Elvethor explained this process as “giving intent” to the aether. He was pretty hardcore intending the aether to be for a physical spell type.

“It’s not working, man,” Noa hissed.

“Give it time,” Elvethor said, barely looking up from the book he read.

“Dude, it’s my third day at this. I do not want another two months and thirty-seven days of shoveling manure while I figure this out. There’s gotta be another way,” Noa said.

Elvethor sighed. “It can take years for toddlers to learn this stuff.”

“Toddlers,” Noa pointed at him, “I’m not a toddler. I’m a grown man.”

“Barely,” Elvethor snorted.

“I doubt you’re older than I am.”

“I’m eighteen,” Elvethor said.

“Ha! I’m twen━” Noa paused, raising his brow. Right, this world had four hundred days a year. Twenty-one multiplied by three-six-five, divided by four hundred. Carry the one, and again, and again... Noa frowned. Hell, I’m not even drinking age on this world!

He cleared his throat. “I’m nineteen,” he said meagerly.

Elvethor raised an eyebrow. “Not twelve?” he asked, a sly smile on his lips.

Noa rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha, very funny. Anyways, can we try [Aether Shaping] first?”

“It’s easier if you can get [Aether Designation] down, but... they do go hand in hand,” Elvethor said. He reached over and pinched Noa’s hand.

“Ow! What was that for!” he asked, looking at the small wound that oozed a bit.

“Mend it. Use your aether to envision the wound sealing up.”

Noa huffed, and pulled the writhing strand of aether to his hand. He narrowed his eyes, considering how to do this, given the elf’s lame explanations. The best thing would be to go from the inside out, just in case there was any debris in the wound. He pushed the aether inside it, which shrunk, piling in.

Almost immediately, Noa gained a sense of the wound, and the aether slowly shifted to a red color. The wound was superficial and would heal in a matter of days, and was not a significant danger to the body.

System [Aether Shaping] acquired.

System [Aether Designation] acquired.

System [Lesser Examination] acquired.

System [Lesser Examination] level 1.

Then the strand was gone. Noa grinned, even if the wound was still there. “I did it,” he said, then looked up at Elvethor. “I did it!” he jumped from his seat.

“Right, now heal it,” Elvethor said.

Pulling out a new strand, Noa pushed it to the wound. This time, however, instead of pushing it inside the wound, he laced it over the wound, hoping that would indicate what he wanted. As he did, it again turned red, and the wound sealed shut.

System [Lesser Mend] acquired.

System [Lesser Mend] level 1.

System Class [Mender] acquired.

System Class [Mender] level 1.

“I’m a mender,” Noa said, grinning ear to ear.

“Finally,” Elvethor said, standing up. “Come downstairs.”

Noa followed Elvethor down the stairs and towards the altar, Elvethor stopping directly in front of it. “Please tell me you at least know how to use one of these things?” he asked, his expression already dismayed.

Noa gave a sheepish smile.

“Right. I’m still not convinced you’re not twelve,” Elvethor said, and placed his hands on the altar. After a brief moment, a screen materialized in front of him. It was dim in color, allowing the white writing to pop in front of it.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Name Eliaz Ruellan

Age 18

Class [Mender] 17

Aether 132

Spells [Lesser Examination] 67, [Lesser Mend] 82, [Lesser Restore] 53

Status [Party Exp Bonus +10%]

“Should I be able to see your stat sheet?” Noa asked.

“What’s a ‘stat sheet’?”

Noa deadpanned him.

“We call these Status Tables,” Elvethor said.

Seriously? Aether for mana and “Status Tables” for stat sheets? Noa rolled his eyes.

“Now, your turn,” Elvethor said, removing his hands from the altar. As he did, the stat sheet shimmered away.

Pursing his lips, Noa hesitated. Elvethor would be able to see all his information, probably including his extreme exp bonus. Such bonuses couldn’t be unheard of though, right? he thought. Sighing, he placed his palms on the altar, and waited.

Nothing happened.

“Ugh,” Elvethor groaned. “You’re such a newb.”

“Newb”? Noa wondered. Good to know they had at least one shared slang in both of their worlds. That oddly brought Noa some measure of relief, though he was certain being called a “newb” shouldn’t have.

“Right, so help me out?” he asked.

“Just ask the system to open your status table,” Elvethor said, and held his hand up to Noa when he opened his mouth. “And not out loud.”

Okay... System, open my stat sheet. Nothing. Noa frowned. He tried again, and found he had to use the term “status table”. What. A. Pain. Finally, the stat sheet materialized in front of him.

Name Noa Kai

Age 19

Class [Mender] 1

Aether 100

Spells [Lesser Examination] 1, [Lesser Mend] 1

Status [Base Class Exp Bonus +30%], [Party Exp Bonus +10%]

[Total Exp Bonus +40%]

“That took you way longer than it should have, newb.” Elvethor rolled his eyes, then leaned forward, looking over Noa’s shoulder. He stared. For a long time.

“Do you mind?” Noa asked. “It’s not polite to stare.” He pulled his hands from the altar, the sheet shimmering away.

“Plus forty exp bonus?” Elvethor asked, raising his brow. He looked directly at Noa, then put his hands on Noa’s shoulder, twisting him so they faced each other. Then Elvethor jostled Noa. “Forty exp bonus!” he exclaimed. “What, did Elorn bless you himself? I have to believe Elorn exists?”

Huh. That was an interesting tidbit of information. “You use the altar of a god you don’t believe in?” Noa asked.

“Quiet!” Elvethor hissed, covering Noa’s mouth with a hand, then looked around suspiciously.

You just said it outloud yourself, buster.

“If the church finds out I don’t believe, bad crap happens,” Elvethor whispered.

Noa grabbed the elf’s wrist, removing his hand. “Okay, so I won’t tell anyone, and you don’t tell anyone about my exp bonus. Fair?”

Elvethor narrowed his eyes. “Only if you tell me how you got it.”

“Sure,” Noa said. He paused for suspense, Elvethor leaning forward. Noa leaned towards him, a small smile inching on his face. “I don’t know how.”

“I...” Elvethor drew his lips into a line, and pointed at Noa, “am really starting to regret teaching you.”

Noa smiled innocently. “You’ll get over it,” he said.

“You just had to pick healer too, didn’t you?” Elvethor asked.

“I don’t want to fight in a war.”

“I’d have hidden you! Or at least tried. It’s really hard to level without a fighter. I guess we can cause self injury, but I’ve heard of healers going crazy from that kind of stuff. Curse you, we need to find a fighter,” he growled.

Curse? That’s a swear word in this world? Lame. “But they’re all off at war.”

“Unless they’re rich. The rich can afford conventional training before going to war. I have an idea...” Elvethor grabbed Noa’s hand as usual, and dragged him from the church.

Hardly thirty minutes later (Noa guessed), they hid behind a hedge, looking over it at a stony manor with an iron gate. It looked vaguely like Buckingham Palace, except less than half its size. Seemed like an impressive feat to build something as big as that in a place that felt so rural. Were there even enough builders in a small place like this to support the construction of such a thing?

“Remind me why we’re here,” Noa said.

“Shh!” Elvethor hissed. “Not so loud.” He pointed at a set of guards wearing dark jerkins as they walked by the front gate, each with a spear in his hand.

“You’re going to get us killed, aren’t you?” Noa whispered, and Elvethor pursed his lips.

“We’ll be fine,” he said. After the guards went by, he emerged from behind the hedge, and hopped over it. After he motioned, Noa followed, eyeing the backs of those guards as they moved to the iron fence.

The bars were too close to squeeze through, and there wasn’t exactly a way to climb over them. Instead, Elvethor twisted one and it popped out. Huh. Okay then. They slipped through to the other side, and Elvethor quietly put the bar back in place with a clink. A quick look towards the guards told Noa they hadn’t heard a thing. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad thing yet.

Noa followed as Elvethor darted up the slow incline, crouching as if that would help him go unnoticed. He couldn’t imagine that an over six-foot-tall elf would go unnoticed because he crouched behind nothing. At least Noa, at his smaller size, would have better chances.

Fortunately, they made it around to the side of the manor, miraculously avoiding the patrol in the front courtyard, and crouched beneath a window. Elvethor stretched his legs a bit, peeking up into the window, and Noa concluded that this man was nuts. Was he seriously thinking about breaking into the richest place around? and for what? Some mysterious cause he didn’t tell his “trainee”?

“Coast is clear,” Elvethor said, placing a hand on the window.

“Dude, what the hell are we doing?” Noa asked.

“Yes, what are you two doing?” a third voice said.