Clutching the heavy pouch of gold coins, Oliver couldn’t suppress a satisfied smile.

Two hundred gold coins!

For a single battle, he had earned more wealth than he could have imagined just months ago. Back then, he was a starving farmer, eking out a meager existence. A farmer might toil for a lifetime, forsaking food and comfort, and still fail to earn such a fortune.

Now?

Now, Oliver had become someone entirely different.

Even with his current abilities—venturing deep into the forest to hunt valuable magical creatures—it would take painstaking effort to gather this amount. Yet here he was, walking back toward the academy, the weight of the coins and the memory of the battle still sinking in.

He had done it.

He had foiled the sinister plot of the Silver Circle Cult. He had saved an entire town.

As he strolled along the cobbled path leading to the academy, Oliver couldn’t resist fiddling with the coins. Each bore the image of the queen, intricately engraved, with a satisfying weight and texture that affirmed their authenticity.

When he finally returned to the academy, he found the training grounds abuzz with students.

The recent commotion near the Avery Estate had not gone unnoticed. Though many had hesitated to venture close, wary of the danger, curiosity had drawn them here to await news.

Among the crowd were Daniel and James, diligently practicing their spells even amidst the chatter. Unlike the others, they seized every opportunity to improve. With the silver coins they’d earned in a recent bullying incident, they had purchased cheap alchemical potions to accelerate their training. Both were still striving desperately to be recognized as apprentice mages.

When Oliver and his companions arrived, the crowd surged toward them, eager for details.

“What happened?” one student blurted, his eyes wide with curiosity.

Hector, ever the spokesperson, stepped forward. “We were handling the aftermath of the Kramar Wraith incident,” he began, his voice steady. “Turns out, Lord Avery was the mastermind behind it all. He conspired with necromancers from the Silver Circle, an evil cult, to plan the slaughter of everyone in the town, but thankfully, their scheme was foiled…”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Slaughter an entire town?

It was unthinkable. And yet, the grim expressions on Hector and Oliver’s faces left no room for doubt.

Many students glanced around uneasily, searching for Avery’s son, Aiden—a fellow student. Though affable and well-liked by some, Aiden was nowhere to be found.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

“He’s fled,” someone muttered.

Hector frowned, realizing a grave oversight. If Lord Avery had orchestrated this heinous plot, there was no way Aiden had been entirely ignorant. And while Lord Avery had been captured and would face trial at the Mage Tower, his son’s escape posed a lingering threat.

Aiden would likely seek revenge.

But Aiden wasn’t the only concern. The Silver Circle Cult wouldn’t take this defeat lightly. Their retaliation was a question of when, not if.

As murmurs spread among the students, Violanda stepped forward with a playful smile. “You probably don’t know this yet, but Oliver played a crucial role in the battle. He’s the reason we’re all here today—alive and well.”

She winked at Oliver, whose face flushed despite himself.

The noble students gawked, struggling to reconcile this revelation.

Oliver?

A mere two months ago, he was just another novice, barely admitted into the academy. His rise to become a core apprentice had already been remarkable, but to think he had now saved an entire town?

Their gazes turned to him, filled with newfound respect—and a hint of awe.

“Tell us about the battle!” someone shouted.

Hector raised a hand, silencing the crowd with a grin. “Details involving necromancers are classified,” he declared. “All you need to know is that Oliver is a shining example for all of you to follow.”

Though disappointed, the students’ curiosity only deepened.

Just how powerful was Oliver now?

Some speculated that he could rival a red-tier mage, but the truth was far more astonishing. In raw combat ability, Oliver had already surpassed Hector, a full-fledged mage.

As the cheers and whispers subsided, Oliver and his companions made their way to the serene gardens behind the academy. Collapsing onto the plush sofas in Arcanus’ study, they sighed in unison, exhaustion washing over them.

“I’m absolutely spent!” Violanda groaned, stretching dramatically. “Oliver, I can’t thank you enough. For a moment, I thought we were done for, that the necromancer would finish us off.”

Oliver chuckled, too tired to even lift a finger. “You’ve thanked me enough already. We’re alive, aren’t we?”

Word of Oliver’s heroics spread quickly, not just within the academy but throughout the town.

In the bustling taverns, his name was on every tongue.

“Master Stark? Oh, we go way back!” boasted Gavin, the owner of the Oak Barrel Tavern. “When he was just a hunter, I knew he was destined for greatness!”

This refrain became Gavin’s favorite tale, much to the amusement—and mild irritation—of his patrons.

The buzz continued for days until Arcanus himself finally returned to the academy.

The professor wasted no time, summoning Oliver and Hector to prepare for the interrogation of Lord Avery.

“Oliver,” Arcanus began, his tone warm with approval. “I’ve heard about your exploits. To think you’ve grown so powerful… it’s truly remarkable.”

Standing nearby, William couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. Once, Oliver had been a struggling hunter who, at one point, even sold slime cores for a pittance. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with, his strength surpassing even red-tier mages.

William, still striving to become a knight, clapped Oliver on the shoulder with a rueful smile. “You’ve come so far, Oliver. I always knew you had potential, but this… this is extraordinary.” He trailed off, shaking his head in admiration.

Oliver simply smiled. “You’ll get there too, William. Everyone’s path is different, and yours is just beginning.”

Though William nodded, he couldn’t help but wonder—was it luck, talent, sheer determination, or some combination of all three that had propelled Oliver so far ahead? Whatever the answer, one thing was clear: Oliver Stark was no longer just a farmer’s son.

Even the status of a core apprentice no longer seemed to match his growing strength or abilities. In fact, William couldn’t shake the thought that Oliver might one day rise to the heights of someone like Professor Arcanus—someone truly worthy of a place in the Mage’s Tower itself.