“Yes, I will require a room please. The highest quality with servants quarters attached if available. I will be staying for at least the next three weeks.” Chris was currently booking a room at The Horse and Four inn in the centre of the city. It was a mere hundred meters from the city lords manner and the mages academy. It was a smaller branch of the mages academy run in the capital ‘Stonewall Academy’. It didn’t have the same reputation as the capital campus but was still run in the same manner.

In order to actually achieve a noble title and be accepted properly into high society he would need to prove his financial power and magical might. He had decided to attend the academy and apply for the fast track course, this would involve a simple test of power and knowledge where he would be placed in an appropriate year (Or simply graduate). This would grant him the official title of being a registered mage.

As Chris and his entourage entered their new bedroom with the goods and stashed it there he came to the matter of weather to keep the hired bandits on. They had performed well for a supposedly bandit group. Their leader was especially interesting, his perception and will to follow others was useful, yet at the same time could lead to a betrayal.

For now he would pay for them to be decked out with clothes bearing his future colours and groomed to the appropriate level of his personal guards. He would appoint Captain Blackhand ‘Sebastian’ as the new head of his personal guards. This would be far better pay and make them partially loyal to him. Perhaps over time he could cultivate a close circle of highly loyal troops. Some training would further this agenda nicely, he would ask Velona to sort that out.

Tonight there was a local open invitation ball he had been informed about by the inn owner, he informed all respectable guests of this opportunity. He would be able to scout out some connections here, but it may be disadvantageous until he had an official mage rank. He would sort that out and then go to the next open invitation.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

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Broke was on his way in a carriage to Madris, more specifically the second campus of Stonewall Academy. He had been judged lesser than his opponent the fire mage. This had caused him to be accepted into the second campus of the academy. He was in a foul mood, he had not even considered they could do this. It must have been the non-flashy nature of his magic, they were satisfied with the power of his magic and his skill but fire magic was a lot more impressive than earth based manipulation.

He would have to show them what he could do, Broke clenched his fist and bared his teeth. This academy would still give him the education he desired, but not the fame and notice that the other campus was exposed to.

He took the time to work on his magic. Leaning out the window he drew up a few kilograms of earth from the road side and compressed it into a ball. Once back inside the carriage and sitting down he began to shape the earth to his will, infusing the material with his mana and letting him manipulate it with very little cost and extreme accuracy.

He had an idea for a powerful yet cheap spell recently and decided to try it out. He visualised a huge force pressing on the earth from all sides and watched as it compressed into a small ball smaller and smaller. The finished size was that of a large grape and weighed nearly a kilogram. He repeated this with the rest of the dirt and ended up with 3 balls of hyper compressed dirt. He then willed one of the balls to hover over his palm. Then he faced the window and willed the ball to shoot off at speed, it shot from his hand at the speed of an ace pitcher and thumped into a passing tree causing splinters of wood to explode out of the side. Not as powerful as he had wanted.

Broke tried pushing the ball faster but found that he could only increase it a little bit. Next he tried a larger ball the size of a baby’s fist, this he could throw almost as fast but blew straight through a foot thick tree felling it. This had been from over 100 paces, a deadly weapon indeed.

He was more satisfied with it and now needed to give it a name, this would improve his casting speed and the power of the spell.

“[Shock Stone]” he visualised the spell and linked his association of the spell with the words as he spoke them, the ball of stone materialised as he willed it from the side of the road and shot where he directed it, thumping into the ground causing a high spray of dirt.

Success, with some practice, would be combat effective.