As I leave Lucinda's house, I make a mental list of the things I need to take care of.

First, magic, I tell myself, squinting slightly. Well, actually. First, send a note to Irene. Not a good look, but I don't have any more time to waste.

As I walk toward Aurora's Bakery, I ask a question in my mind.

Old man, are you there?

Yes, young Luciani. I'm here.

Great. Do you theoretically have enough Mana at your disposal to cast [Threading Mind] continuously? Or, say, at least once per hour?

Have you decided to take your life, child? What's this nonsense?

You always harangue me about not practicing magic enough, right? Well, how about we knock it out once and for all?

I don't follow.

I need you to either find me a roundabout way of learning the spell for myself or just cast it continuously. At the very least, I need it once every hour as we figure out the Cantrips.

What are you saying, young Luciani?

You always read my goddamn mind, Magister Mulligan, can't you just do that now? How about you do that and get back to me?

I feel electricity run through my body, but it only invigorates me.

I see. It is… possible. You might suffer brain damage, though. I must caution you against the indiscriminate usage of the skill for such a purpose.

Nah. We'll run it back. It worked for my muscles; no reason it shouldn't work for my brain, right? How about you start working on what I need? Can you see the knowledge well enough? Also, as soon as we're done, you're teaching me how to defend myself against old creeps like you reading my mind.

I will teach you if you survive.

Don’t worry, Magister Mulligan.

I smile to myself.

I’ve got this.

…

I enter the bakery and find numerous people already working the day shift. Even though we're still struggling financially, the operation is far from stopping.

"Stanimal," I say, tapping the very tall Elf on the shoulder as he supervises some new hires who still find it troublesome to work out the best shape for the bread.

"Joey," Stan says.

"Come with me," I say, winking at the big man.

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"All the managers and the [Princess] are waiting for you upstairs," he says meaningfully.

"Good. They can wait five more minutes. I need a private talk with you," I smile, going straight for the storage room and slamming the door behind us.

"You're bleeding," Stan frowns, pointing at my face.

"Oh, this? Just a little side-effect of some experimentation. Don't worry, it's ok."

"Why are we here?"

Have you secured the room?

Who do you take me for, young Luciani? I'll have you know that an [Archmage] of my caliber—

"I need to leave the [Princess] in charge," I say with a big smile.

Stan frowns at my words but then relaxes his eyebrows in a curious gaze, "go on."

"I know we're being targeted by someone," I smile. "Just got some info on my way here."

Info? I have provided you with—

"I need some serious help, and the [Princess] is pretty good at this. Tell her to buy out Marcella's stake in the bakery. I'm sure that her being royalty gives her the right to do so. If not, just force Marcella to sell."

Stan frowns again.

"Why would you want Laurealia to—"

"I've overheard the conversation in the main room before coming here, Stan. I've… well, scried them. Cool spell, by the way. Clodia's mother told her that the prices of grain were suddenly going up for some idiotic reason. It's a lie. I don't know the specifics, but she clearly wants us to be more dependent on her—if this was my old world, I'd say it's because she wants to buy an even bigger stake in the bakery. But honestly, I'm not so sure. Flaminia getting stabbed in the street in broad daylight after the [Princess] stunt? This smells fishy. But I can't take care of these matters until I finish my magical training."

"How long will you be gone this time?" Stan suddenly asks.

"Just a week," I say with an evil smile. "Just a fucking week, and we blow up Amorium, friend."

"I trust you, Joey Luciani. What do you need me to do?"

"Well, since I don't like being duped, I thought I'd use some of your authority. Could you, theoretically, override a royal order from the [King]?"

I see Stan tilting his head and a slight smile forming on his face.

"We're going to cook, Stanimal. Just trust me," I smile back.

…

"So, did you bug Marcella's place?" I ask Magister Mulligan as I sit down at a desk in his pocket dimension.

"Bug," the man looks disgusted at the use of the word.

"Did you?"

"Young Luciani, this woman's magical defenses are probably secondary only to the Royal Family's. There are several high-level individuals that go in and out of that place, some bound to possess great magical attitude relative to the expertise of this era."

I just stare at the man, sighing.

"She has a secret room with a mirror that she uses to communicate with someone. I can't track the mirror's connection until a new one is established. I have spells running in five places where the magical signature seems to be the densest. All wards have been bypassed without any problem."

"Alright," I smile.

"Young Luciani," Magister Mulligan asks slowly. "I would like not to have to peer into your mind again on this matter but rather have one satisfying reply to my queries. Why are you asking me for this? I have told you my services are not for free."

"I know," I say, looking up from the last Cantrip where I had left off last time. "I'm good with what you asked, old man."

"Are you?" Magister Mulligan peers at me. "You’ve always seemed so against the idea of the main quest."

I feel my eyes pooling with tears slightly as a response to my stupidity in the past. But I quickly brush them away.

"Lucinda gave us the answer, no?"

"Which is?"

"She's not going to the Nine Towers Academy, old man. She's still a mage, but not one who needs to go to the Nine Towers Academy."

"Speak your intentions clearly to me, young Luciani," Magister Mulligan frowns from under his huge hat.

"I don't need to be a [Mage], a [Warrior], or anything else to be a [Hero], old man. I've been running in circles around all these options, thinking about this and that and what's right and what's wrong. I stopped running away from my problems, but now, I've just been running in circles. It's time that I do what I was always meant to do."

"You finally chose to become an [Archmage], I see," Magister Mulligan smiles.

"Oh, no. You couldn't be farther from the truth."

Magister Mulligan frowns deeply.

"I've decided it's time this world recognizes what I truly am."

I wink at Magister Mulligan.

"A [Baker], old man. Why do you think I need to free myself from this stupid magical training?"