After signing the contract Hisel had given him and going over a few more details, Magnus grabbed his clothes and started walking back to the academy. He'd told Hisel she could reach him by sending a letter to Takerth Academy addressed to him, ensuring he could stay updated on how things were progressing.

Who would’ve thought the first thing I’d end up selling from my world in this one would be clothes? I always figured it’d be some kind of technology or something more advanced. But maybe it's for the best—keeping it to just clothes and not something more substantial. Introducing modern technology in a world where the higher powers went as far as censoring magic just to retain their authority would bring me a lot of trouble.

‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ That fact alone would be a major problem if he tried to develop even something as simple as a lightbulb.

In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted to do, whether it was noble or self-serving, revolutionary or mundane. The key was being able to protect himself. He thought he was close to reaching that point after the Live Examination, but his encounter with that vampire woman had shown him he was still far from it. He had enough backing for now, with Luden, Eveline, and the Major General willing to support him, but relying on others for power was too risky. He needed to reach a level where he could stand on his own, where people wouldn’t mess with him—or those around him—not because of who he knew, but because of who he was.

Until then, everything else would have to wait. But the good news was that he at least had a potential clear path forward thanks to the assignments the academy was planning for Adept-level students. He just had to hope the Academy Exchange Center had the magical artifices and spell catalysts he needed.

As he arrived at the academy's gate, basket in hand, the guards didn’t miss their chance to tease him.

“Oh, what you got there, Magnus? No city-shaking events today—just went clothes shopping?”

“Yeah, well, unlike you barbarians, I have this thing called fashion sense. I need more than two outfit choices when I go out,” Magnus shot back, making one of the guards feign hurt.

“Hey, we told you the outfit thing in confidence!” One of them exclaimed, the others nodding along.

“Yeah, and who needs more than one outfit anyway? One for casual evenings, the other for when the wife wants to go somewhere fancy,” another guard added, with the rest agreeing as if they shared one mind.

“And you guys wonder why your relationships are failing…” Magnus muttered, shaking his head as he walked by.

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean!?”

“Hey, hold up! You can’t just say that and walk away-”

But before they could finish, Magnus had already crossed the barrier surrounding the academy, their voices fading as the illusion masking the real academy vanished from view.

If those guys had an EI that was anywhere close to how good they were at fighting, half their complaints would vanish. Seriously, how do grown men with wives not even grasp the concept of dressing to impress?

Magnus figured it was a question he’d never get an answer to—at least not until they inevitably started ranting about their childhoods. Somewhere along the road, he had unwittingly begun learning about every facet of those guards' lives. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how to feel about going from having one friend his age back on Earth to befriending a bunch of men in the midst of their mid-life crises. It made it really seem like it was only a matter of time before they started sharing stories about how they were raised.

I guess that’s just my life now.

As Magnus resigned himself to that thought, he entered the dorm area, making his way to the dorm building. As he walked, he noticed several noble students glancing at him with strange looks. Most nobles didn’t bother carrying things like luggage themselves, delegating such tasks to the servants or slaves they brought with them. That’s why it was so odd to see Magnus casually walking around with a basket of clothes as if he’d just returned from doing laundry.

But Magnus's focus wasn’t on them. He was more surprised to see someone standing at the entrance of the dorm building—someone he rarely saw around the academy.

Seraline? Who's she waiting for?

His question was soon answered as he reached the entrance, where Seraline approached him. Like everyone else, she glanced down at the basket he was carrying, tilting her head slightly.

“Clothes?” She muttered.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just picked these up. No harm in expanding the wardrobe, right?” Magnus replied with a smile. Seraline stared at him for a moment before giving a slight nod.

“I suppose not.” After that, a brief silence fell between them. Magnus had no idea how to keep the conversation going with Seraline, who wasn’t much of a talker. Even when she did speak, it was usually in short sentences. But it was obvious she’d approached him for a reason, so he didn’t want to just walk away. The result was an awkward pause, the two of them standing in front of each other without saying anything.

Luckily, the silence didn’t last too long as Seraline finally spoke.

“I’m here because of Luden. He told me your dorm room is close to Cain’s and that you see him often; is that true?”

Magnus’s face twitched slightly as he screamed internally.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Dammit, Luden! Are you trying to blow my cover?

“Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that. Why?” Magnus asked, trying to keep his composure.

“I was hoping to ask you for a favor. If you see him, could you tell him to meet me at the library after tomorrow’s classes? There’s something I need to ask him.” With that, Magnus understood why Seraline was here. Cain rarely interacted with the world unless Luden asked him to. While that added to Cain’s mystique, it also meant his faction members had to go through Luden to contact him. Magnus guessed that when Seraline asked Luden to speak to Cain initially, and Luden saw an opportunity.

A way to connect meeting Cain with talking to Magnus since they 'lived close' to each other.

It makes the link between Cain and me a bit more obvious than I’d like, but I guess at now I’ll know if someone wants to meet 'Cain' ahead of time instead of getting caught off guard.

“Is that a problem?” Seraline asked, noticing Magnus lost in thought. Magnus snapped out of it and shook his head.

“Oh, no, that’s not a problem. I’ll be sure to tell him the next time I see him.”

“I see. Thank you,” Seraline said with a polite bow.

“In that case, I won’t keep you.”

With that, Seraline took her leave, heading off to who knows where. Watching her go, Magnus couldn’t quite get a read on her.

I know Luden said she was raised in a militaristic environment, but that still doesn’t explain how she acts. I mean, Gerald, Mia, hell, even Kolten and Alwen are part of the military, but they don’t act like her. Well… I guess Marcos and she are a bit alike, but even Marcos joked around occasionally. He just didn’t like me or trust me, for that matter.

Thinking about Marcos shifted Magnus's thoughts to the fact that he, Mia, and Gerald were still off on their scouting mission.

I wonder how far they are from Arlcliff City to still be out there. They might be in a whole different region. Or who knows, maybe it’s just a long mission—the kingdom is at war, after all.

Shaking his head, Magnus decided to put the thoughts aside. He was sure he’d see them again soon. Now that he had a better grasp of this world and a clearer understanding of the Master-level’s strength, he was confident they’d be fine, no matter what they faced. Letting go of his worries, Magnus headed up to his dorm room, unpacked the clothes from the basket, and hung them in his closet, trying on a few to see how they fit.

They all fit perfectly... I don’t know if I should be happy or disappointed about that. With all the training I did and the Live Examination, I thought I’d have bulked up a little. Oh well, I guess being buff just isn’t in my genes.

The rest of Magnus’s day was spent in his room, quiet and uneventful. From the outside, it looked like he was lounging around and napping, but in reality, he was talking to Basker, going over his plans to get stronger and the ideas he wanted to implement. He occasionally checked in on Eveline, who was still working on the finishing touches of the artificial intelligence, but she kept shooing him away whenever he pestered her. Eventually, his day ended with him lying on his bed in his new pajamas, staring up at the ceiling.

So, how many spell catalysts do you think we’ll need to keep on hand, at minimum, for the fighting style I’m considering?

[Given how long your fights usually last, and assuming your opponents’ skill levels continue to rise, I’d say at least twenty.]

Magnus took a deep breath before letting out a sigh. It was a staggering number, especially considering that just one spell catalyst would be worth around five hundred thousand in USD if they existed back on Earth. That meant Basker was suggesting he’d need to carry millions of dollars worth of spell catalysts for his new fighting style idea to be viable.

Well, I guess sacrifices have to be made.

The next day, the break was over, and classes were starting again. The moment Magnus stepped out of the dorm and onto the academy grounds, he sensed a change in the atmosphere. Some students were laughing and celebrating; others seemed more confident, while a few looked utterly dejected. Listening in as he walked to class, Magnus learned that everyone else, like him, had received their new ranks.

The excited energy even carried into Magnus’s class. When he arrived, he saw the twins, especially Syrna, looking thrilled, and the other students who had arrived looked fairly proud of themselves. The only ones who seemed unaffected were Nithra and Luden. Nithra’s reaction made sense; she rarely interacted with the class, no matter the occasion. Only Lazitha could ever get through to her.

Huh, now that I think about it, I don’t remember seeing Nithra in the Live Examination. Did she not make it past the preliminaries?

He found that hard to believe. Although she wasn’t on Luden’s level, Nithra was definitely skilled enough to make it through the preliminaries. It made him wonder as he turned his attention to Luden, who gave a small smile when he spotted Magnus entering the classroom.

“Things seem pretty lively,” Magnus observed as he took his seat. Luden nodded in agreement.

“It’s to be expected. Even if they didn’t move up a full rank, it’s still a sign they’re making progress. Who doesn’t love a bit of recognition?” Magnus nodded, thinking, Fair enough.

“If you’re wondering, the twins are said to be nearing the Adept-level. It should only take a few more months—they might even reach that point before the next Live Examination.” Hearing that, Magnus glanced at Syrna and Sylas; Luden’s words definitely explained their excitement. Now he was a bit curious about how some of the others had done, but just Magnus was about to ask when Eredim arrived.

Walking to the podium, Eredim clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, I know many of you are excited after getting your new rankings, but I need your attention—class is starting.” The room quickly quieted, though a few students, including Magnus, exchanged confused looks. One student raised their hand to voice this confusion, and Eredim called on them.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Professor, are you sure class can start like this? A lot of our classmates aren’t here,” the student pointed out. It was odd—students at Takerth Academy rarely showed up to class late, not after what both they and their families had to do to get into the academy. Yet over eighty percent of their class was missing.

“Actually, that’s the first thing I wanted to address,” Eredim began, moving into his explanation.

“Firstly, there’s no need to worry—your other classmates aren’t late. They’ve been assigned to a new classroom with a different professor. The reason is simple: if you continued to study alongside them, you’d all be held back.” Hearing that, the students exchanged glances. It was one thing to be told you were talented, but it was entirely different to hear your professor state outright that your classmates were holding you back. It was a blunt statement that could definitely inflate one’s ego.

“All of you here are the best in your class. The mages among you have either reached the Adept-level or are close to it at the Pseudo-Adept level. As for the knights, you’re also nearing Adept-level and just need a bit more time to refine themselves. As such, from this moment on, you will all start learning at an Adept-level. You’ll still be under my instruction, but expect your hands-on training to become much more advanced,” Eredim added, a hint of warning in his tone with that last sentence.

The next moment, his voice returned to its usual tone as he continued, “Now, there’s one last thing to cover before we move on. This will only apply to some of you right now, but I’m sure you’re all curious about the Academy Exchange Center and the Arcadia Credit System, which you may have heard about when you received your promotions or around the academy.”

At this, Magnus’s attention sharpened. This was the part he’d been eager to hear about.