Thorin, Clay, and Quin focused only on their spells as days went by while Byram earned coins with his bulls. The Archive’s prompts showered the three cousins, one after another. Especially Thorin, who pushed his

  spell to the limits of the neophyte level, just a shove away from the next stage of mastery—the pathfinder.

  His withering heart had put him against time. So, even in situations where he couldn’t cast the spell, he still traced its model in his soul space and let it die without realizing an attack. His cousins worked hard; he had to work harder.

  When the spell reached the peak of neophyte, the paper blade finally adopted the demeanor of a competent spell. Though its lethality still left much to be desired, it could at least scratch the trees’ bark now. If Thorin shot it at Quin now, the spell would break his skin and finally see blood.

  He wasn’t alone in his progress. Quin neared the peak of neophyte level for his spell as well. The axe he formed with it finally had acceptable proportions and design. And the damage it did was far beyond Thorin’s

  or even the previous axe he used. When Quin let go once and swung it, he’d chopped a thick stump in half.

  Clay matched their strides too. A single cast of his

  spell could shred a tree’s bark with mere pebbles now. The spell also gave him better control over the projectiles’ path and what they targeted. If he could get a sympathetic artifact to match the spell, his damage would soar. The only complaint he had about it was that the spell only hurled projectiles out. He couldn’t get them back, unless he walked over to pick them up. To make the spell feasible with that restriction, he had to store up on a good number of pebbles and stones.

  Finally, when the three deemed their spells to be acceptable, they sat in the shack for a meeting. Byram earned them mortal coins, but they needed to earn mana shards now. Not just to buy resources, but also to extend their time in the street market.

  “So, where’re we heading?” Quin asked, munching on the salted fox nuts.

  “Not far,” Clay said, spreading out the map of the area. “We need to make use of the rent we’ve already paid, so we can't stay outside for too long.”

  “Our only option is the stretch of forest behind this street market then,” Thorin said.

  “There won't be many targets in the vicinity, but we should be able to earn enough if we go just a little deeper,” Clay said. “Just to be safe, I went to that old man from the spell shop and borrowed a mana tester from him.” He took out a grey metal card that locked a square milky gem in its notch with four talons. “This can vaguely compare my level with the target I pick. We can fight safe battles with this.”

  “Alright,” Quin said. “When do we head out?”

  “After we reach pathfinder,” Thorin said. “All three of us are on the verge of breaking through. Let’s do that before we head out. I should also learn some of my other spells, especially and .”

  “Alright,” Clay said and smiled. “Let’s see who reaches pathfinder first.”

  “Whoever’s the last buys a round of ginger ale for all of us,” Thorin said.

  “You and your ginger ale.” Quin shook his head.

  ….

  His cousins hadn’t slacked off, but the hours Thorin gave to his spell surpassed them. So, as the sky purpled for the advent of dawn, he became the first to push his spell over the edge.

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Papercut -: Pathfinder Level 1/5]

  When he finally cast the spell again after a burst of hearty guffaw that scattered the birds, the paper blade zipped forth and reached a target farther than before. The spell was faster, more stable, more efficient with mana, and carried more energy. The path of the paper blade also flaunted the extended range—the specialty of the pathfinder level. Yet, Thorin’s smile soon waned. What he dreaded came true. The lethality of

  had peaked in the neophyte level. Regardless of the overall growth of the spell, the feeble structure of its core hadn’t changed. Thus, when the paper blade hit the tree at a distance, it stabbed the bark but barely did much damage. The soft paper couldn’t deliver the impact.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Thorin sighed. The dejection doused him after the elation of the breakthrough. Nevertheless, he soldiered on. The next spell he picked was .

  It was an easy spell to start and an easy spell to master. For its backbone was the database from the Archive. Other arcanas had spells to access that database as well, but the spell from the Potion Arcana was the best at it. At least, he won in this regard. Thorin consoled himself.

  Identify.

  [Item Name: Chained Blades.]

  [Description: A type of mid-to-long range weapon made of mundane metals, consisting of blades connected to chains. Hard to master and control. Can be tricky to deal with in a battle.]

  The Archive prompted him when he traced a stable spell model in his soul space.

  [Spell Added: Identify]

  [Identify: Neophyte Level 1/5]

  The spell had limitations where it would fail him. It couldn’t check any Magus’s details for him, nor could it penetrate a barrier to examine his target. But Thorin was hopeful. Perhaps when he pushed its mastery level to the peak, it might give him a surprise.

  By the time he became familiar with his new spell, Clay and Quin also broke through to the pathfinder—Quin was the last. Clay’s spell

  carried the same growth as Thorin’s. It just had more impact on the target and gouged the tree’s bark. Quin’s spell, on the other hand, was a melee type. So, the specialty of the pathfinder level didn’t receive the spotlight it deserved with him. Still, the extended range was only a plus. Quin tried it, and indeed, he could drop the axe on a target at a distance. The attack lacked the power, but it gave him variety. Though, he still preferred the weapon in his hand.

  They were ready to hunt now. However, they waited a day for Thorin to practice his spell.

  It was an outlier among the arsenal he’d bought. The only function it had was to create a space bubble that could store items for him. When Thorin succeeded in casting it for the first time, the space bubble that the spell fashioned was the size of his bed. The giant bubble that hovered before him was a nuisance. Far from the convenience it promised. The space inside had the same dimensions as outside. To make it useful, Thorin had to complete the next step.

  He compressed it. The bubble shrank, centimeter by centimeter, while the space inside remained the same. He spent a bucket of sweat and strained his spirit and mind before the bubble condensed to the size that he could shove in his shadows. Finally, it sank in and gave Thorin direct access to its insides.

  [Spell Added: Inventory]

  [Inventory: Neophyte Level 1/5]

  “Is it done?” Clay asked when Thorin heaved a tired sigh of relief.

  “Yeah,” Thorin said, sprawling on the grass. “When Quin can learn some artificers’ methods, we’ll be able to create storage items.”

  “I’ll look for the blueprint when we come back,” Quin said, his eyes glittering as he prodded Thorin’s shadow in a squat.

  “Alright, let’s go eat now,” Clay said. “Go to bed early tonight. We’ll head off for the hunt at the break of dawn tomorrow.”

  ….

  Next morning.

  The three left Byram in the shack and exited the street market from the other side. The trail led deeper into the mountains. Though they met some groups of hunters on their way, only the tweets of the birds and the awakening insects greeted them when they picked a direction that didn’t see many footfalls. Even the trail refused to go any further, and they had to cut their own path forward.

  “Some Faes’ species are protected in this area because of low population,” Clay said when they stopped by a cliff that leaked streams of water into the pond below. “We can't hunt them actively, so let’s avoid them if we can. It’ll be hard to sell them in this street market if we kill them by accident.”

  “By any chance, are Wood Panthers protected too?” Thorin asked, squinting at the depth of the forest.

  “Nope,” Clay said.

  “Then we have guests,” Thorin said. “Three of them.”

  “Nice, one for each,” Quin said, and the three Wood Panthers prowled out from the shadows of the woods, snarling at them.

  “Their skin will be hard to penetrate,” Clay murmured, checking the mana tester against the three panthers. The milky gem carried a white hue without even a hint of red. “They’re of the same level, we’re good to go.”

  “The first to kill his target gets to sleep on the bed,” Quin said.

  “I got the ginger ale, and I’ll get the bed too,” Thorin said, dispatching his chained blades.

  “Dream on!” Clay hollered.

  The battles began.