Surveying the expansive territory map laid out before him, Thorian made a decisive choice. Upgrade the Magus Guild. Upgrade the Warrior Guild. Upgrade the Assassin Guild. Upgrade the Priest Guild. And upgrade the Cultivation Hall.
A deep, resonant rumble echoed throughout the village, capturing the immediate attention of its inhabitants. The four principal guilds underwent a remarkable transformation. Each expanded its footprint, its architectural details now radiating both elegance and grandeur. As for the Cultivation Hall, its metamorphosis was even more dramatic: what had been a few modest chambers morphed into a corridor lined with twelve rooms, crowned by an imposing edifice at its end.
Yet, for all the splendor of the upgraded buildings, Thorian's focus was undiverted; his interest lay solely in the Assassin Guild.
"I trust the renovations haven't inconvenienced you too severely, Nox," he murmured as he stepped into the revamped guild hall. The space had significantly expanded, complete with a new bulletin board affixed to the right wall, displaying a handful of quests. He barely glanced at them.
"Is Nox unharmed?" Thorian inquired, directing his gaze toward Whisperwind, the guild master.
The enigmatic figure shook his head reassuringly. "No need for concern. I've just verified—Nox is perfectly well."
Relieved, Thorian exited the guild and made his way to his own domain. There, perched atop a desk as if it were a throne, stood Fizzlegrin. His grin stretched from ear to ear as he marveled at the transformation of his domain, utterly enchanted by the grandeur that now surrounded him.
"You appear quite pleased," Thorian observed, approaching Fizzlegrin with a warm smile. "What do you think of the guild's new aesthetics?"
"Absolutely enchanted! It's so much more spacious," Fizzlegrin enthused, his eyes alight with glee. "Finally, I've got shelves for those endless parchments and skill scrolls. Organizing this place used to be an absolute nightmare."
Thorian chuckled softly, clearly pleased. "I'm glad it meets your approval." His eyes shifted toward the bulletin board before adding, "These seem like quests, don't they? Am I permitted to take them on?"
"Certainly," Fizzlegrin replied, hopping down from his desk with agility. He ambled over to the board, a spring in his step. "At present, you may only take on the default quests. But with further upgrades, you'll even have the option to post quests yourself, as the lord of this territory."
"Ah, that could be useful," Thorian mused, scratching his chin as if contemplating this newfound revelation.
"I take it you'll want all three?" Fizzlegrin inquired, grabbing a chair to elevate himself and reach the bulletins. With a small stretch, he unfastened all three parchments from the board.
Thorian nodded. The subsequent procedure mirrored that of the Village Hall, facilitating his acceptance of all three quests. Finally, Thorian summoned his Quest Journal to review his new responsibilities. Show Journal, he commanded mentally, eager to dive into his next adventure.
Journal Spell Casting E-rank Mana Control E-rank Mana Infusion E-rank
As Thorian perused his Quest Journal, Fizzlegrin's voice broke his concentration. "Shall we dive into the quests right away, or do you have other obligations that demand your attention first?"
"Other matters can wait," Thorian declared, snapping his journal shut. "Let's begin without delay."
"In that case, follow me," Fizzlegrin said, leading the way to a room on the left. Thorian followed him into a space he had never seen before, a recent addition following the guild's renovation. Rows of tables filled the area, leading to a small, secluded cabin at the far end.
"We'll start with mana control," Fizzlegrin announced, navigating his way between the tables. Thorian trailed behind, his eyes cast downward to ensure he didn't step on the small guild master who barely reached his knees.
Upon entering the cabin, Thorian found himself surrounded by walls adorned with shelves filled with arcane tools. The floor beneath him was covered by a mat, intricately inscribed with arcane symbols.
"Please, sit down cross-legged in the center of the room," Fizzlegrin instructed. His youthful voice carried an unusual gravitas. "Today's lesson will focus solely on mana sensing. If you show some level of aptitude, we should be able to advance to the next phase by week's end."
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
Suppressing a chuckle, Thorian complied, seating himself as directed. Fizzlegrin commenced his tutorial with a fervor. "The initial step requires you to attune yourself to the mana within your own body. Only then can you extend your senses outward to perceive the ambient mana around you."
"I can already do so, Guild Master," Thorian revealed, channeling mana into his hand until it glowed with ethereal light. "I can even manipulate it to a certain extent."
“Oh my,” Fizzlegrin examined Thorian's illuminated hand, his eyes widening in genuine surprise. "Is that a result of one of your acquired skills?"
"Yes, I was fortunate to gain the skill of mana manipulation from a dungeon," Thorian elaborated. "I've also dedicated some time to mastering it."
"In that case, how fortuitous," Fizzlegrin remarked, nodding approvingly. "If you're already capable of internal mana sensing, consider today's Mana Control quest fulfilled. Let's proceed to Mana Infusion."
With that, Fizzlegrin led the way out of the cabin, and Thorian followed closely behind.
"Have a seat wherever you like," Fizzlegrin gestured toward the rows of tables, "I'll fetch a mana rock for you to infuse."
Thorian chose a table and settled down, his eyes following Fizzlegrin as he exited the room. Moments later, the Buzzlekin returned, cradling a nondescript, grey pebble in his palm. At first glance, it was so unremarkable that Thorian would have dismissed it had he encountered it anywhere else.
"This is what's known as a depleted mana rock," Fizzlegrin elucidated, placing the stone before Thorian. "Your task is to rejuvenate it, to imbue it with your own mana until it's restored to its former vitality. Exercise caution, though; improper infusion could cause the rock to shatter."
When Fizzlegrin passed the depleted mana rock to Thorian, a rueful smile danced on the latter's lips. To be back to such fundamental exercises, he mused internally.
Thorian gently swirled the stone within his hand, reflecting on past endeavors. With his former vessel, such a task would've been as thoughtless as breathing. But now, trapped within an unfamiliar form, devoid of his previous muscle memory and instincts, he was tasked with reacquainting himself with the rudiments of his craft.
Fixating on the rock nestled in his hand, Thorian began to coax his mana forward, drawing it out in a measured, delicate dance. It was a fine line to tread—ensuring the energy wasn't too little to be ineffective, yet not so overpowering that it would rupture the fragile stone.
Guiding his mana to the surface of his palm, he gently urged it into the stone. The rock remained inert, resisting his attempts. The mana was too sparse, unable to penetrate the stone's innate barriers. Undeterred, Thorian channeled a stronger surge, willing it into the rock. Still, the stone remained unchanged.
Recognizing that he was undershooting, Thorian gathered a more potent concentration of mana, preparing to infuse it once more into the rock, hoping this time to strike the right balance.
Crack!
With a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, the mana rock shattered into two pieces on Thorian's palm.
"It's a trickier task than it appears, isn't it?" Fizzlegrin's chuckle broke the tense atmosphere. Reaching into a pouch that appeared almost comically oversized due to his diminutive stature, he climbed onto a chair and emptied its contents onto the table. "Feel free to experiment until you find your rhythm. A ten percent success rate would be considered quite proficient."
"Only ten percent, you say?" Thorian's smile carried a nostalgic tinge. "I apologize in advance, Guild Master. My journey of trial and error may prove rather boring to you."
"Don't concern yourself with that," Fizzlegrin dismissed with a wave of his hand. "For now, there's not much that needs my attention in this new guild. Observing your first steps into the world of magic is entertainment enough."
"Very well," Thorian nodded, selecting another depleted mana rock. As he held it, his focus narrowed to a pinpoint; the rest of the world dissolved into irrelevance.
Having suffered his initial failure, Thorian made a slight adjustment, reducing the mana he directed into the rock. The result was the same: another resounding crack.
Undeterred, Thorian selected another stone from the pile, his demeanor unflinching. It was as if the previous failures were mere data points in an ongoing experiment. Again, he tuned the mana, reducing its intensity before attempting infusion. And again, the stone fragmented.
Once more, Thorian picked up a depleted mana rock, this time subtly diminishing the surge of mana he sent into it—just as he had in the previous failed attempts. This time, however, the rock remained whole. His mana trickled into its core, as if accepted by the stone itself.
Thorian’s face remained composed, absent of exuberance. Breaking past the initial hurdle of mana infusion was but a small victory. Now came the intricate work: the arduous task of navigating his mana through the minuscule labyrinth that constituted the rock's interior. With deliberate intent, he delved his mana deeper into the stone.
Crack!
Unfazed, Thorian reached for another stone. The series of failures that ensued did not plague his spirits; his demeanor remained as steely as ever. Each unsuccessful attempt was a lesson, a chance to fine-tune his approach, devoid of any self-imposed judgments regarding success or failure.
After what felt like an eternity, Thorian achieved his second minor victory: a stone that pulsed with an otherworldly blue glow, the depleted mana rock now brimming with arcane vitality.
Silently, he placed the infused stone aside, reaching for another depleted specimen. Work was far from over.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Despite the initial breakthrough, Thorian knew that each rock presented its own unique puzzle. Each contained a different pattern of channels and reservoirs where the mana was stored; rote memorization could offer no shortcuts. To truly master the art of mana infusion, Thorian needed to refine his intuitive sense, to feel the ebb and flow of his mana as it navigated the intricate pathways within each unique stone.
Thus, ensconced in a near-trance state, Thorian continued his Sisyphean task. The outer world blurred, its mundane distractions fading away, leaving him alone with the complexity of the stones and the ever-shifting landscape of his own inner mana.