"Even if we dislike them, the rules were made for a reason. More often than not, they result from terrible events. The best you can do is focus on the present and forget about the boring past."
Shepard's firm hand t his shoulder, forcing him out of his trance.
Even after peering into his ntor's piercing gray eyes and noticing his solemn frown, he remained unconvinced by his words.
'I'll unearth history. It may take years or even decades, but nothing beats the thrill of discovering how those lost civilisations wielded magic.'
He shook his head, letting Shepard guess his intentions without stating them.
Then, he grabbed the book resting atop the pile, grinning at its old leather cover.
Before he could open the cover, though, Shepard's voice resounded.
"Before you start, let show you a few examples of boosting and field spells. You can use them as a basis to develop yours later."
With rapt attention, he listened to the arcanist, internalising everything, his quill dancing on the paper with elegance to capture key points.
'Why do I look like a proper student?'
The thought made him smile wryly. After a year of skipping classes, they caught back with him.
Amusent and hunger for knowledge dancing in his eyes, he imrsed himself in the present, forgetting about tomorrow's duel, Selene's request and his enchantnt training.
Even when Shepard's tender pat t his back, he remained so focused that he didn't notice the arcanist's departure after a brief hour.
Three hours later, the raucous arrival of students broke his concentration, forcing a curse out of his mouth and his racing mind to pause.
Yet, with Shepard gone, he could finally use his Grimoire Lingua to assimilate all the languages and start developing his first spell.
'I'll go with the boosting spell. Lena added five hundred attack points with one.'
He pondered, his eyes scanning his writings as the rhythmic drumming of his fingers on the desk resounded.
'If I use Vivian's theories, it'll allow to deepen my understanding, hitting two birds with one stone.' Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire
Determination flashed in his eyes.
Even if he took his ti with it, he never dropped the idea of mastering her physique-boosting spell. He only had to figure out the missing pieces she developed after writing her grimoire.
As theories rumbled in his mind, the Grimoire Lingua appeared in his hand. Without drawing attention and with chanical movents, he opened the books one after another, allowing his trusted companion to scan and record their languages. A soft light emanated before the ethereal, mysterious book vanished a mont later.
'Boom. I just beca a polyglot in a second.'
He covered his mouth and chuckled. Since the day he got this item, he knew it would be an irreplaceable ally he could rely on.
With mastery over various old magical languages, a sudden idea popped into his mind, awakening his adventurous spirit and making his fists tremble.
'Can I mix them? No, better! Can I invent a new magical language with the grimoire's help?'
After all, the grimoire adapted to erging languages and dialects!
Despite his excitent, he coughed, pushing it down.
'It might be too early for that. I'll try after mastering more potent and ancient languages.'
As he taped his finger on his cheek, a pensive frown stretching his forehead, his eyes widened in realisation.
'That old cleaver! It knows about ancient places. If I can extort... cough... make him tell where they are, this project would beco more than a dream!'
He shook his head, a wry smile stretching his lips as he held his legs to stop them from dancing.
'First things first. Focus on the tournant, enchanting, and Selene's request.'
Eyes sparkling, he plunged into a world of spells once again. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but anticipate the future. Each passing day brought its package of problems but also exciting discoveries.
In this atmosphere, students entered and left the place. Their enthusiastic reviews of today's duels didn't reach his world of deep, almost obsessive concentration.
And soon, a slender hand gently shook him, and a lodious voice resounded from behind.
"Your duel will start. Let's head to the arena."
"ow!"
Turning in alarm after the disturbance, he noticed Nova holding Stella in her arms. Her cheerful smile registered next, making him relax in his chair.
Simultaneously, the cat's soft paws stretched to touch his cheeks, sending a wave of warmth in his soul as her cute owing enlivened the empty library.
"Sigh. I don't know what I'll do without you watching ti for ."
He bowed his head, heartfelt gratitude lacing his words.
Nova's smile reached her eyes in response. With a friendly slap on his wooden back, she chuckled.
"You'd just learn to be on ti the hard way."
In a good mood, he cradled Stella, discussing with Nova on the way.
Once there, he noticed the twenty-seven other competitors already waiting. The spectator seats were filled to capacity, and excited cheers erupted from all corners of the arena.
"You got this, Alex!"
"My goddess Mia, we are all cheering for you!"
"You are the best Garet! Bring the trophy ho!"
Amused by the explosive atmosphere, he joined them before a thunderous drum shook his fra, sending vibrations to propagate like wildfire.
The wind whipped against his clothes as he turned, ready to defend himself in case of a sudden attack.
However, his eyes enlarged the next second.
"Number one!"
"Show them alchemists aren't to be belittled!"
"Go, go, Adam."
"Show them what a real strategist looks like, big brother!"
His pupils constricted as his friends' cheers registered. Still, they were overdoing it!
'The heck is that huge drum for?!'
An inner scream pierced his mind as he glared at Julius and Arun beating giant sticks on it. They knew he disliked attention, so why?
"Stupid kids..."
Despite his mumble, a soft smile blossod on his face, and his soul ward as if touched by the gentle sun's rays.
However, the situation rapidly took a turn for the worse.
"Don't let the College of Alchemy and Transmutation beat us! Bring our own drums!"
Red faces and spitting sentences, even teachers joined the cheering, each academy trying to assert dominance like football fans.
He felt like a boat sailing in a chaotic sea for a mont.
Then, eight elegant shadows elongated on the arena and the public, forcing everyone into silence with their re presence.
He gazed at the arcanists, an icy shiver jolting his body. Their solemn expression and deanor spoke louder than words. Even the playful Shepard wore a mask of unviolable authority, contrasting the image he showed him for the past year.
Edgar Voldaren stepped forward, his voice forcing him to focus on his well-trimd jet-black hair and luxurious suit.
"With all my heart, I congratulate you on reaching the qualification's last day as this tournant's host."
The man's eyes lingered a few seconds on each of them, his bright smile stretching.
Then, he continued, swinging his palm and speaking with an epic tone.
"First, I'd like to remind you of the rules. Fourteen students will proceed to the competition's final stage. If you lose? Don't worry and wait. We'll organise matches to select the last two competitors and give you a chance to prove that even poor luck can't stop you!"
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