The heckling didn't stop until they arrived behind the school grounds—the designated practice area for student magecraft.

  The tranquil, turquoise lake lay still, its gentle waves catching the afternoon sunlight in a bedazzling shimmer, like countless jewels scattered across the water. It bordered the foothills of the mountain ranges, where stretches of green forest trailed upward toward the peaks.

  The school maintained several footpaths here, leading to foraging and hunting grounds, as well as a few small dungeons. Stocked with weaker monsters, these dungeons were not lawless, guarded by Bound Books that forbade forced entry without permits.

  Seraphine snapped her fingers as they reached a clearing layered with loose, moist soil. At once, a large stone boulder rose from beneath the ground, its surface reshaping like clay until it became a makeshift bench. She sat herself down with deliberate ease, legs crossed, her eyes gleaming with eagerness.

  “Let’s get started!” she commanded.

  Aurelius could only shake his head. How shameless! She clearly had no intention of lifting a finger to help him! Supervision would be a completely inaccurate description. The situation was akin to her watching a circus for her amusement!

  “Help a junior out and shape a golem for me, please,” he asked flatly.

  “Nooo, that would defeat the purpose of your education!” she shot back, sing-song in tone. “Besides, I need to save my stamina. I suspect that a weirdo junior of mine could be on the verge of summoning a weirdo spirit! And who’s to protect them other than me? A senior with a heart of gold!”

  Aurelius threw up his hands, exasperated. She wasn’t going to budge, and if he wanted to get any work done, he’d have to start alone. Given that golem-making would take longer without her assistance, he decided to begin with something simpler: his spirit charm.

  From his sling bag, he retrieved a red quartz crystal and pushed it gently into the soil. With basic magic, he carved a shallow circle around it. His mana control was hardly refined, and the circle was rough around the edges, but still serviceable for his needs.

  Next, he sprinkled spirit powder into the groove, using precise control to ensure the powder spread evenly.

  He drew in a slow breath, channeling the ambient mana. It gathered around him, forming a sphere that enclosed both himself and the ritual circle. Closing his eyes, Aurelius immersed himself in the sensation, the faint prickling of mana resonating with his soul, the outline of the ritual circle etched vividly in his mind. And within these sensations, he sensed faint glimmers — connections to the spirit realm held by the powder.

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  Focused, he lowered himself to one knee, extending a hand toward the circle. A spark leapt from his fingertips. Flames rose from the burning powder, dancing in a vivid, ethereal purple as the bond to the spirit realm deepened, pulsing with the fire.

  Aurelius stepped back, steady in his concentration. He shaped his thoughts into an image: a door. The mana swirled and condensed, whirling into a vortex that coiled around the ritual circle. The imagined door cracked open flooding the sphere with a burst of mana. It carried with it a scent both sweet and strangely cleansing.

  He drew a small pinprick of blood from his fingertip. The droplet lifted into the vortex and stretched into a thin line, circling the boundaries of the sphere before fading away, absorbed seamlessly into the surrounding flow.

  Satisfied, Aurelius let the image of the door dissolve, calming the storm of energy. His voice rang out, clear, steady, and deliberate, words shaped by his will and vision.

  “Protection from the Realm of Spirits.

  I seal my connection.

  I seek respite from prying eyes.

  I shield my mind.”

  The textbook incantation for protection charms. Even if more experienced mages often went without, Aurelius still relied on the images formed by these words to assist with his soul-shaping.

  The sphere froze. The purple flames winked out. His voice etched command onto the mana, weaving strands of intangible silk that coiled and intertwined. Slowly, the sphere shrank, compressing, until the threads coiled and knotted themselves into a ball, supported by the boundaries of the shrinking sphere. The abstract ball of mana coalesced around the crystal at the circle’s heart.

  With a soft woosh, the ritual came to an end. The flow of mana returned to normal. Aurelius exhaled, shoulders sagging with relief. The work had drained him, channeling so much mana with such precision. But it was successful. Thankfully, golem-making would not demand this level of control — most of the strain in that ritual would be handled by the spirit being summoned.

  He retrieved the charm, and started brushing soil over the remnants of the circle with his feet.

  From behind him came the slow sound of clapping. His face twitched almost imperceptibly—he'd nearly forgotten about his audience.

  “Congratulations, oh blessed shaman!” Seraphine drawled. “What an amazing display!”

  Her mocking tone tightened the corner of his mouth.

  “I can’t believe that worked with so little shaping! So cool! So revelatory! Some might even say it’s worth studying!” she continued, her bright smile paired with eyes wide open in ‘sincerity’.

  Aurelius grit his teeth. “Look, my soul is still a circle. I can’t possibly be expected to perform at your so-called professional standards! I’m also way younger than you, grandma!”

  Her smile dropped instantly. “Excuse me?! I am ONLY twenty! Mind your tongue! You should never insult a lady’s age!”

  Aurelius rubbed his temples, feeling the edges of a headache. She was the furthest person from a lady! Even Tiberius was more ladylike! With weary movements, he tucked the new charm into his sling bag, then laid out the next set of tools on the ground: a golem core, along with seven gems and ores of varying colour and lustre.

  For a moment, he debated whether to conjure the soil away with magic, but decided against it. Reluctantly, he lowered his hands to the earth, digging into the soil with his hands, and starting to shape it.