"A cat," Flint said. "That's her biggest selling point?"

"To be fair, he's very cute," Morgana replied seriously. "And he's good with strangers. He does this thing where he rolls over and sleeps on his back, and he doesn't care if you rub his stomach. He's such a good boy."

Flint stared at her.

Morgana kept a straight face.

"Ah, come on, it's the best we can do, and we all know it," Vesper said, rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"

"What I think," Flint emphasized, turning to his sister, "is that going into the dungeon with inadequate gear, no mentorship, no potions, no supplies, and an incomplete party essentially guarantees that one of us will get killed."

"Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not. I'm really, really not."

"We might be able to fill out the party," Vesper said, waving in dismissal. "It just won't be people from our guild."

"Most people delve with their colleagues. Even I know that. Seeing how we aren't prime material for teammates, I seriously doubt we'd be able to find any of the rare free agents."

Vesper shrugged. "Maybe. But again, it's not like we're drowning in choices. This our only option."

"That's not entirely true," Flint said.

"Hm?"

"Morgana could find a way into her guild on her class alone. She's a [Mage]. And not our responsibility anyways," he said, shooting a quick look at Morgana that wasn't necessarily unfriendly, but definitely implied that he didn't see her as a necessity to their group, as Vesper for some reason did. Morgana didn't blame him; he was being practical. "And two silver each when the registration is eight is too little. But six, if only one of us were to apply? It could happen."

Vesper stared blankly at her brother. Morgana winced, since the girl actually didn't seem to understand what Flint was saying.

"You register alone," Flint said. "And I'll figure something else out."

For a second, Vesper looked like she'd been slapped. Then she got angry. "What? The fuck are you talking about? We're going in together. That's always been the plan."

"Plans change based on reality," Flint replied, seeming annoyed. "And guess what our reality is?"

"Our reality is having a cat as a mascot and an eccentric Guildmaster," Vesper growled. "Not that I'm registering alone. Besides, we don't even know if it'd work. Basically everyone was super strict on the registration fee. Even six might not cut it."

"It would. I've already floated the idea."

"What?"

"Be reasonable," Flint said. "You're the one with a class, anyway, not me."

"Temporary problem."

"It's obviously the smarter—"

"Keep talking and we're gonna end up fighting," Vesper said, her tone clipped.

Flint sighed. "Vesper. Don't be—"

"Really tempting fate, Flint." She cracked her knuckles.

"Why are you always so difficult?" Flint growled, throwing his hands up.

Stubbornly crossing her arms, Vesper glared at her brother. "We're joining the cat guild."

Flint turned an exasperated look to Morgana, as if she would talk sense into Vesper. Or maybe because he didn't know what else to do.

Morgana mostly found herself endeared by both sides. Flint, who was just trying to find a more reasonable solution to keep Vesper safe, and Vesper, who absolutely would not continue without Flint at her side, as had been the original plan. Her firm loyalty definitely hadn't come from nowhere, when it came to Morgana herself: when Vesper decided to join up with someone, that meant something.

Fortunately, Morgana could alleviate some of Flint's concerns. "It might not be as much of a risk as you think," she said. "You're forgetting I'm an [Archmage]."

"What does that mean?"

"How much danger the dungeon will pose to us. I haven't experimented with it yet, but I'm nearly certain I can improve upon the [Magic Missile] design given to me. It seemed to be…malleable, upon my brief experiments." Though she hadn't actually confirmed that, yet. "If the first floor of the dungeon is meant for a group of neophytes, then I figure I'd be able to work my way through a tentative first run by myself. Especially given time to harvest primordial mana." Once that happened, the world was her oyster. She could create whatever spell design she wanted. But it might be tricky to set up. And slow to gather. She might have to rely on her 'innate mana pool' for the short term. "It does admittedly depend," she admitted. "I need to test some things."

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"What the hell are you talking about?" Flint asked, exasperated for a different reason, this time.

Vesper was also looking at Morgana curiously.

Morgana nodded. "Let's head to Rune's guild. I need to test a few things on the way, out in a private space."

As in, outside the city limits.

***

Out in the safety of seclusion, a bit of a way off the beaten road leading to The Gryphon's Company guildhall, Morgana found a small boulder to act as an impromptu bench, sat down, and closed her eyes.

A part of their decision on whether to join Rune's inadequate guild, or pursue Flint's alternative idea depended primarily on their safety. If Morgana could, indeed, leverage her extensive magical experience even within the bounds of the 'System', then safety would be far less of a worry.

So.

Improving [Magic Missile].

But first, testing the default version. Morgana called forth the spell and invoked it, curious to see what kind of firepower she would be working with as a true level one.

The spell manifested, and a foot-long dart of thin blue-white energy streaked forward, slamming into the dirt. To her side, Vesper and Flint jumped, despite surely having expected the display.

"Hm," Morgana said.

She could do better, obviously.

Far, far better, if the System allowed it.

Mentally questing out for that perplexing way to call forth the spell design, the twisting, looping, delicate lines defining a [Magic Missile] slowly manifested a second time—and with greater focus, within her mind's eye, instead of just bursting into manifestation. Something she had discovered in the wagon.

Again, she marveled at the spell formula itself. It was something she could explain only to another trained mage, but it was truly incredible. A deliberately designed disaster. A complete mess that, despite its hideousness, dripped with its architect's talent. A spell, purposefully crippled in the most elegant of ways.

The only question, now, was if the System would allow Morgana to improve upon it. There'd been an impression, her first time pulling this design into her mind's eye, that she could. But was it wishful thinking? Or a valid intuition?

Her brow furrowed as she tried to seize hold of the lines and morph them. In normal spell design, she would be using some typical writing instrument, typically a pen, or a brush for larger designs. Instinctively, that was the mental guide she defaulted to. She imagined running her pen across the blank space of her mind, adding a line to the existing design.

And it worked.

A faint blue stroke appeared. It startled Morgana so much her concentration broke, dispelling the image.

She hurriedly re-summoned it. The new mark was nowhere to be seen. But she had proved that they were malleable. Invokable, though, once changed? That had yet to be seen. But she had a good feeling.

Some quick experiments later, she found that erasing existing lines was as easy as adding new ones. Rather than building off the complete mess that was the default [Magic Missile], she erased the entire design and started from scratch.

[Magic Missile] was a funny spell. A classic to all neophyte mages in existence, it was one of the oldest and most iterated-upon designs in all of spell architecture history. It had become, in recent times, almost like a puzzle. A friendly contest between academic peers. Who could create the most efficient design? The competition had become nearly an obsession, despite that [Magic Missile] was far from the most effective piece of war magic. Rather, the opposite. It was a spell using arcane mana—the purest of mana types, some would say, and also the easiest to utilize—to function. And arcane mana wasn't especially suited toward destruction. Not like, say, fire or lightning.

Which was probably why the System had chosen it as an ability for a 'level 1' to use. In Morgana's world, beginners utilized the design because it was easy to invoke. As all spells using arcane mana were. Well, comparatively speaking. Magic in general was a difficult field, for most people.

The Institute's obsession to perfect its design was more a matter of intellectual competition than anything, though. A fixation based on its simplicity and prevalence. Perhaps, in some way, like a challenge to provide the most elegant proof to some fundamental yet simple mathematical claim.

And Morgana, someone who had spent her life in the Institute, was aware of that ongoing contest. She hadn't engaged herself, but she had observed the relevant discourse. Noted the competing designs. Memorized them, even, though not intentionally; Morgana had always had a keen mind when it came to spell construction. Most spells, she only needed to see once to engrave within the enormous database of designs stored within her head.

As such, improving upon the System's design wouldn't be difficult. She had the efforts of the entire Institute at her back.

She began to etch the new collection of lines and runes. For the enclosure, a circle: the most common, though not simplest, of spell encasings. With three primary lines of symmetry, balancing a formula with a circular enclosure could quickly prove tricky. Not as complex as a hexagon, octagon, or a stranger freeform encasing, but difficult nonetheless.

But this was a problem solved by the brightest minds of the Institute. Such a clever implementation even Morgana had been impressed when noting it, hence her clear memory of it. She needed no ingenuity herself: she simply needed to borrow from her peers.

The runes interwoven with balancing lines took form within her mind, replacing the jumbled mess that comprised the original drawing. Unlike the system's choice, the perfected—or at least close to perfected—design of [Magic Missile] which Morgana's society had created was only a handful of runes, a few quick strokes to balance them. Twenty times simpler—at least by quick appraisal—than its previous iteration.

***

Spell design recognized as a variation of [Magic Missile].

***

***

Saved as default.

***

***

[Magic Missile]: MASTERED. Aim a burst of arcane energy.

***

Morgana opened her eyes.

Mastered?

That wasn't one of the 'proficiencies' mentioned during her and Vesper's talks in the wagon.

She turned her attention toward the [Thief]. Vesper blinked in return.

"What does 'Mastered' mean?" Morgana asked.