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085 The Pocket Mage

  Jack completed a [Chronos Sphere] spell scroll, then paused, remembering his archery exercise programme.

  He groaned as he forced himself through a few minutes of ‘gruelling’ planking exercises. “Whoever invented planking is an evil, sick, sadistic monster.” He collapsed onto his bed. “There must be easier ways to exercise core muscles…”

  After a brief rest, he inscribed another [Chronos Sphere] scroll before heading downstairs to bother his mom for some food. Afterwards, he prepared to go to the Adventurers Guild for archery training.

  Jack was already dressed, dagger at his side, bow and quiver over his shoulders, pack in his left hand. As he went to exit the room, he paused. I don’t have easy access to my spell scrolls.

  The memory of Greaves pinning him to a wall and killing him while powerful spell scrolls were available in his pack, out of reach, flashed through his mind. He shuddered as his mind drifted to the fight with the swordsman, and of him fumbling through his pack at the back of Ron’s Diner to retrieve a [Fireball] spell scroll.

  “I need fast access.” Jack dropped his pack onto the floor. “Could I store a couple of scrolls up my sleeves?”

  He grabbed a blank scroll from his desk, rolled it tight, and stuffed it up his sleeve. Scrolls don’t have to be unfurled to activate. I can have a few up my sleeves and just… point and shoot.

  Jack pressed his index finger to the rolled-up scroll. “[Fireball].” He winced at having to force his finger to touch his wrist. “Not very comfortable… or practical.” He tugged the scroll back out. “They’d get damp with sweat in no time.” He recalled one of his Secondary Novice Scribe skills [Ink Weatherproofing]. As the name suggests, the skill made ink weatherproof. Hmm… it wouldn’t stop the scroll from getting wet, though.

  He snorted, imagining himself pointing both arms forward and shouting, “[Fireball], [Fireball], [Fireball]…” A stream of [Fireball] spells would blast from his palms like some badass Master Fire Mage.

  “I wish.” Jack scoffed at the idea. “I might lose control of the direction, though.”

  He was aware that scrolls didn’t have to be held in the hand that cast the spell. Ideally, the caster would hold the scroll in their left hand, point their right palm at the target, and cast. The spell would fire from the palm, guided by intent.

  Intent was everything when activating spell scrolls. Saying the spell’s name wasn’t enough. This safety feature was encoded into the runes to prevent accidental activation. One couldn’t have a shopkeeper handle a scroll while chatting and unleash a blizzard or a firestorm by mistake.

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  With practice, a skilled caster could touch a scroll with any body part and direct the spell to fire from a finger or an elbow. This was also true for experienced mages; rumour had it that Master Mages could even cast through their eyes.

  Jack wasn’t ready to experiment with anything beyond his palms. “If only I could devise a simple holder.” He imagined thin leather wristbands with small tubes for scrolls, each spell ready to flick into his hand. “I could carry three or four scrolls on each wrist.”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m overthinking this.” They didn’t need to be on his wrist; he just needed fast, easy access for emergencies. Plus, if he did design a wrist holder, they’d get in the way of his arm guards.

  Jack’s gaze fell on one of his small notebooks on the desk that would fit in his jacket’s breast pocket. Grabbing a blank scroll, he folded it, slipping it into his breast pocket so a little peeked out like a handkerchief.

  Testing the reach, he touched the exposed edge with one hand. “[Frost Breath].” He pointed his other palm at the wall clock. He’d decided to make [Frost Breath] his go-to scroll, hoping to minimise the risk of triggering more fire-related flashbacks.

  After a dozen tries, he was confident he could activate a scroll from his pocket using either hand. “That should work.” Jack smiled while folding his three [Frost Breath] scrolls and stacking them into his pocket. He felt a little safer knowing he had easy access to power mage spells with a simple movement.

  Jack glanced at the two [Fireball] scrolls. “Hmm… I should add the [Fireball’s] at the back?” He thought about the flashback while fighting the swordsman. I’ll never use three [Frost Breath] scrolls at a time… I’ll be fine. He shook his head at the complacent thought. “No. Better to be overprepared and not use them than to die with regrets.” He’d already made that mistake when attempting to assassinate Greaves.

  Moments later, he had two [Fireball] and three [Frost Breath] scrolls ready to activate in his pocket. He patted his breast pocket and grinned. “Five combat spells, all within easy reach.” The [Cleansing] spell scrolls were stored in his pack.

  Feeling a renewed sense of preparedness, Jack grabbed his pack, adjusted his bow and quiver, and headed out. He was ready to face another archery session at the Adventurers Guild.

  Jack walked through the cobbled streets of Lundun towards the Adventurers Guild. Wary of running into the four remaining adventurers, he approached every corner with caution. Relying on [Shadow Veil] and his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger for comfort as he navigated the alleys of the city.

  Passing by the entrance to the alleyway where he’d had the fatal encounter with the large swordsman, he paused. “I wonder what happened to the body?” He had plans to collect the greatsword in a day or two and sell it. I hope no one found it.

  Jack continued his journey, his eyes darting about like a rabbit expecting a pack of wolves to leap from the shadows. The closer he got to the Guild, the busier the streets became. A few dozen people were milling in and out of the building. The familiar hum of chatter and clanking armour filled the air.

  Fuck. This is stressful. He passed by a woman with short hair and a healer’s satchel who looked a little like Linda. Nothing happened, no recognition or confrontation, and [Assassin’s Intuition] remained silent, yet his heart pounded like a war drum in his chest as the large red brick Guild building stood before him.

  Chapter 086 From Fear To Laughter

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