It had been almost a month since Aurelius began his classes at Lothern Academy. In that time, he had settled into the swing of things, attending lectures, practicing his combat skills, and spending hours in the library.

Aurelius had also forged a closer bond with Valen, who, with his easygoing nature and genuine concern for Aurelius's well-being, had become a trusted friend. With Valen, Aurelius had been able to adjust to the academy life, navigating the challenges of their classes.

However, despite Aurelius' growing familiarity with the school, he preferred to keep a low profile, limiting his interactions to a select few friends. This approach had mostly served him well, enabling him to reap the benefits of Lothern Academy while safeguarding his true identity from exposure.

Still drowsy, Aurelius collected his usual breakfast tray and settled down at his regular table. Waiting for him were Valen, Arlo, Nyla, and Rourke. Among the four, besides Valen, Aurelius felt the closest connection with Rourke. Despite the prejudices associated with his noble heritage, Rourke proved to be a very down-to-earth individual and someone Aurelius got along with easily.

As Aurelius took his seat, Rourke greeted him with a warm smile. "Morning, Aurelius," he said in his deep, resonant voice. "You look like you could use some strong tea to wake up."

Aurelius chuckled and nodded in agreement. "I definitely need a boost today. These early morning lectures are starting to take their toll."

Valen chimed in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I hear you, my friend. I've been relying on a large amount of caffeine to survive."

Arlo, the quiet and observant member of their group, spoke up. "You both should try meditation. It helps clear the mind and promotes focus."

Nyla, engrossed in her book once again, bore a striking resemblance to Valen in that aspect. However, she paused her reading and glanced up, remarking, "I prefer a good workout. It gets the blood pumping and wakes me up faster than anything."

Aurelius raised an eyebrow. “You? You prefer a good workout? Ms. I-would-rather-be-caught-with-a book-than-a-dumbbell?" he teased, recalling Nyla's usual preference.

Nyla rolled her eyes. "Hey, don't underestimate me, Aurelius. Just because I actually appreciate the written word doesn't mean I can't appreciate a little physical exertion as well. In the pursuit of knowledge and self-discovery, we mustn't confine ourselves to a single path. Embrace the vastness of experience, for it is through exploring the depths of both the mind and the body that we truly find harmony within ourselves."

This time, it was Aurelius who rolled his eyes. "Practicing your quotes on me, are you?" he deadpanned.

Nyla's cheeks flushed slightly as she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Rourke interjected.

"Aurelius, are you participating in the Tournament of Elites today? I'm about to catch up to you, you know," Rourke said, a faint grin appearing on his face.

A groan escaped Valen and Arlo, causing Rourke's grin to widen even further. That was the thing about Rourke. As one might expect from the brawny noble, he had a deep passion for fighting and was extremely competitive. Ever since Rourke learned that Aurelius was taking part in the tournament, it had turned into a relentless contest to see who could score the most points.

To his credit, Rourke displayed exceptional talent as a first-year mundane combatant, managing to accumulate an impressive 125 points in the competition so far. This achievement landed him in the silver tier, a rare feat for most first-year students. However, Aurelius remained one victory ahead with 150 points, fueling Rourke's internal competition. For the most part, Aurelius consciously avoided excessive participation in the tournament, aiming to avoid suspicion. He even deliberately lost a couple of rounds to further deflect attention.

This strategy was becoming increasingly challenging for Aurelius. The enhanced stats and levels he had acquired made it more difficult to feign incompetence. Currently, he held a record of 9 wins and 3 losses, which theoretically should have earned him around 4,500 essence. However, his suspicion proved correct as victories in the silver tier arena rewarded him with a higher essence count—specifically 750 essence per win. So far, he had only managed to secure three victories in the silver tier arena. As a result, Aurelius had accumulated a remarkable total of 5,250 essence. The temptation to grind his way up to the gold or even platinum tier solely for the essence grew stronger, consequences be damned. Nevertheless, he recognized that such a course of action wouldn't be wise, at least not yet. Besides, he remained uncertain if he could prevail against some of the fifth-year students. Having witnessed the matches in the gold tier, he realized just how skillfully they manipulated mana.

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The essence he had received enabled him to ascend two levels, reaching level 9. Merely 115 essence away from level 10, a significant achievement for him. Out of his unassigned essence, he allocated a portion to his blade dancer class and another portion to his Arcane Artificer class, while 1155 essence remained unallocated. His blade dancer class ascended to level 9, while his Arcane Artificer class progressed to level 7. With this advancement, his Arcane Artificer ability granted him the power to craft and enhance runes of common, uncommon, and rare levels—an outcome that brought Aurelius great relief.

Although his Arcane Artificer class now stood at level 7, Aurelius had yet to attempt creating a rune. The lack of time and a private space free from prying eyes had prevented him from doing so. However, crafting a rune was a task he intended to accomplish today, and it resided at the top of his to-do list.

"..lius?" Rourke's voice broke through the haze. Aurelius snapped out of his trance, realizing he had been absentmindedly picking at his food.

"Whoa, dude," Rourke exclaimed. "I get that it sucks that I'm about to surpass you, but you don't have to look so glum."

Aurelius shook his head and forced a smile. "Nah, it's not that. I just remembered something. What were you asking?"

"I was wondering if you're gonna join the tournament today," Rourke inquired.

"Nah, not today," Aurelius replied, contemplating his plan to craft a rune. "I've got other stuff I need to do."

From the corner of his eye, Aurelius noticed Valen's raised eyebrows, a clear display of skepticism.

Valen leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "Other stuff? What kind of stuff?"

Aurelius hesitated for a moment, realizing he couldn't reveal the true reason behind his reluctance to participate in the tournament. He quickly searched for a plausible excuse that wouldn't raise suspicion.

"I... um... I have a research project for one of my classes," Aurelius replied, trying to sound convincing. "It requires me to spend some time in the library, gathering information and analyzing data. I need to focus on that today."

Valen nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see. Well, good luck with your research project then. If you need help in the library, you know who to call.”

Aurelius offered a grateful smile, relieved that his friends seemed to buy his explanation.

"Thanks, Valen. I'll call if I need to."

As breakfast came to an end, the group disbanded, each heading in their respective directions.

Aurelius made his way to his first period class, the Basics of the Mundane. So far, the class had been extremely helpful in his understanding of how to fight mages, finding him success against mages in the dueling arena.

Walking onto the training grounds where the class took place, Aurelius heard the voice of Instructor Idris.

“Ah, Aurelius! You’re early today. Still later than everybody else, but at least we are seeing some improvement. Hurry up and join your classmates,” the instructor called from across the field.

The class wasn’t huge, with only 5 other students besides Aurelius. Instructor Idris was the only instructor as well, compared to his sword mastery class which had an instructor for every two students.

Instructor Idris confidently strode to the front of the group. Standing shorter than the average elf, he possessed a vibrant mane of pointed blonde hair that belied his age. But one should never be fooled by his appearance, as Aurelius had discovered on the first day of class. Instructor Idris epitomized the role of a demanding teacher, one who would challenge his students relentlessly. He wore a constant smile that betrayed a hint of mischief, as if he found amusement in watching his students push themselves to the brink. His commanding voice echoed as he posed a familiar question, "Students, what is the most crucial factor in combating a mage?"

"Anticipation," the students responded in a monotone chorus.

"Excellent," replied Instructor Idris, his smile falling short of reaching his eyes.

"I'm glad we all remembered," the instructor voiced, feigning surprise as if he hadn't asked the same question at the start of every single class.

"Soon, we will delve into the second 'A' of the basics of the mundane: adaptability. As we all know, every mage possesses unique qualities. This poses a challenge when it comes to facing mages, as you cannot expect them to be identical even if they possess the same powers. Take, for instance, fire mages. Most fire mages are familiar with the renowned fireball spell. However, each fire mage may have learned to cast it differently, and although it may not appear significant, it greatly impacts combat. Some may conjure it more swiftly, while others may propel the fireball through the air with greater speed. Numerous variables demand recognition and adaptation. However, like I said, today's lesson does not focus on that. Instead, we will address something equally crucial when combating mages," he declared, purposely building anticipation among the students.

"Fitness." The instructor's smile widened as the groans of students reached his ears.

"What?" he feigned innocence. "As the saying I made up goes, 'You'll struggle to match a mage's magic if your fitness is tragic.'"

Aurelius, along with his fellow classmates, let out an exasperated sigh.