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Chapter 9. Magical Mismatch

  System. Was this the System that Andevar’s essay had mentioned? Initially, Levi thought the term had referred to the standard system of magic quantification in this world, but that clearly wasn’t it.

  The screen disappeared after several seconds, blinking out of existence as suddenly as it’d appeared, but Levi had already burned the words into his memory:

  ‘System Notification: Through intensive mana channeling, you have gained +10 MAG’

  ‘System Warning: Failed to increase MAG attribute due to restricted account status’

  Levi presumed ‘intensive mana channeling’ referred to his reinforcement and vector nullification magic, but what did ‘+10 MAG’ mean? MAG… for magic? And what was the whole ‘failed to increase MAG attribute due to restricted account status’ thing all about? What account? Why was it restricted?

  It all seemed to lead back to this ‘System.’ Was it some sort of cosmic administrative entity?

  … and could he summon it?

  Tentatively, Levi called out, “System, appear!”

  Nothing happened. Levi narrowed his eyes.

  “Awaken, System!”

  Nothing.

  “Me paenitet, hanc linguam non loquor.”

  Still nothing.

  “System! I choose you!” Levi declared.

  The ornate toilet stared back at him. If it had a consciousness, it would’ve been pretty embarrassing. Fortunately, the toilet was just a toilet.

  This wasn’t working. Levi needed more information. He left the bathroom, though not before answering nature’s call first. Hey, he was already there. If he had to fight again, he’d prefer to do so on an empty bladder. After that, he made his way back to the dining hall.

  Andevar was still sitting where Levi had left him. He had finished his meal already and was busy working on dessert, a decadent lemon pie. Levi had expected Andevar to look a little worried for him, given how he’d rushed out of the dining hall earlier, but evidently dessert took precedence because Andevar didn’t notice Levi until he was already sitting down across from him.

  Levi raised an eyebrow as Andevar yelped in surprise. Seriously? Granted, Levi was pretty stealthy by nature – after the three years he’d spent evading various supernatural authorities, he had to be – but still, this lack of situational awareness for a future adventurer was a little concerning.

  “You’re back,” Andevar said. “What happened?”

  “Nothing worth mentioning,” Levi said. “Hey, I wanted to ask–”

  A thought suddenly occurred to him.

  With how often Andevar had used the term ‘System’ in the essay, it was probably common knowledge to people of this world. Which meant if Levi asked Andevar what it was, then he’d look really suspicious.

  Levi was fine with acting differently from the old Levi. Partly because he didn’t know anything about his counterpart’s personality, but mostly because he’d genuinely lose his mind if he had to pretend he was an incompetent failure. His sudden change in behavior and capability was likely already suspicious enough on its own, but as Andevar had inadvertently shown earlier, there were plausible explanations for it: acquiring magical artifacts, taking illegal performance-enhancing potions, even inhaling poison gas.

  Not knowing something that appeared to be a basic fundamental concept in this world, though?

  That would indicate some deeper problem that might cause Andevar to report it to the higher-ups. Which might then cause some unwelcome parties to start poking around. And if they discovered the truth…

  Levi wasn’t sure how reincarnators or dimensional transmigrators were treated in this world, but he didn’t want to deal with whatever shadowy organizations existed, assuming they existed at all. The last thing he wanted was some high priestess trying to exorcise him – or worse, finding out it actually worked.

  Briefly, Levi considered blackmailing Andevar. He was sure he could find something on him, and failing that, good old-fashioned threats always tended to work wonders. He decided not to, though. In the past, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Completing the mission had always been the highest priority, especially if there were lives that needed to be saved. The end justified the means – or so he had believed at the time.

  Since then, though, retirement had mellowed him out. He didn’t have enough justification to do that to Andevar. Not yet, anyhow.

  “Ah, never mind,” Levi said, waving him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Andevar gave him a weird look but went back to eating his pie.

  If Levi couldn’t ask Andevar, or anyone else really…

  Then that left only the library.

  “I need to check something out in the library,” Levi said. “Where was it again?”

  He was guessing the previous Levi hadn’t exactly been the scholarly type, and he was right because Andevar didn’t look surprised at all by his question. “It’s on the third floor,” Andevar answered. “Wait, but what about class–?”

  Levi had already turned around and began walking. He could skip one or two classes; this took precedence.

  As before, the stair’s traps and obstacles filled him with an odd sense of amusement. They were simple and predictable enough for him to bypass without using any magic at all; his skill was more than enough to compensate. Having to take the stairs still made him a little frustrated, but at least the trip going down was far better than the trek coming up.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The library was massive. It was located in a hexagonal chamber with multiple levels, each tier lined with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling and were connected by spiral staircases. Brass railings traced the walkways, and a central atrium opened all the way to a domed ceiling. There was no visible source of lighting, but the entire place was lit in a dim glow nonetheless.

  Levi found the first-year section easily enough through the labels on the shelves. He looked through the titles on the spines, sometimes taking one out to scan the first few pages to see how readable it was. Magical tomes had a tendency to be written in dense, archaic language that always gave him a headache to read, and he preferred to avoid it whenever possible.

  Let it be known that Levi was not an academic in any way. He had never attended school in his life, much less any form of higher education. Even when he’d first learned magic, he had been more of a kinesthetic learner than anything else; he learned by doing, not by reading.

  He had driven his former mentor crazy with that. On one notable occasion, his mentor had teleported him to an active volcano, levitated Levi over the bubbling lava, and threatened to let go if Levi didn’t finish reading his assigned texts.

  A small smile spread across Levi’s face as he remembered his mentor. That man had been the one to find Levi on the streets and take him in. The same man whose smile had convinced Levi to take Death’s offer of reincarnation.

  But he could reminisce another time. Finished with selecting the books, Levi found a table in a corner, sat down, and began reading.

  There was a lot.

  Apparently, this world was governed by a thaumaturgical architecture called the System. Every entity possessed something called ‘levels’, and upon accumulating enough ‘experience points’, they would then ‘level up.’ Each level-up granted them skill points that they could then place into one of their five attributes: CON for constitution, DEX for dexterity, STR for strength, INT for intelligence, and MAG for magic. These were referred to as ‘stats,’ and were effectively a numerical representation of one’s fundamental capabilities.

  Every five levels, individuals were able to select a new skill from options provided by the System. During early levels, the skills varied widely, ranging from elemental magic to physical combat techniques to healing abilities. This allowed an individual to explore, experiment, and discover what type of path they wanted to pursue before they fully committed to a class.

  At level 25, individuals would then select their Class. This selection granted unique perks and passive abilities while also narrowing their future skill options to fit their chosen specializations. At level 100, individuals gained access to Class Evolution, which further specialized their Class based on how they’d developed their specific build. A mage might evolve into either a sorcerer, battle mage, or warlock, for example.

  Beyond classes and skills, there were also Concepts. From what Levi had gathered, Concepts were tied to abstract principles and concepts: Justice, Control, War, Chaos, and so on. These Concepts were ruled over by numerous gods (though notably, there was only one Goddess in this world, who seemed to be completely unrelated to Concepts altogether).

  If a god took a liking to a person, typically when they embodied or personified the Concept they governed over, then the god could grant them divine sponsorship in the form of a Conceptual skill.

  For example, someone who demonstrated remarkable tenacity in battle could get sponsored by the god of War and become a champion of the Concept of Tenacity. This could then manifest as the Conceptual skill of [Undying Resolve], a skill that allowed for the temporary continuation of battle even after sustaining mortal injuries.

  An adventurer could gain a sponsorship at any time in their life, regardless of their level. It could change too; since they were tied to a person’s fundamental being, then if a person changed significantly enough, then their Concept could change as well. Furthermore, Conceptual skills differed in potential and power, and adventurers generally chose the stronger one if offered – often even by the same god.

  Speaking of skills, it appeared that the magic in this world was completely different from what Levi was used to.

  In his old world, magic was… messy. A botched incantation could boil the user’s blood. A lapse in concentration mid-cast meant the gathered energy would discharge through the path of least resistance, usually the caster's body. The art of sorcery was inherently a dangerous one, less a tool to be wielded and more a force of nature to be carefully directed. It required an intimate understanding of magic, the fine control to coax and manipulate it into the desired form, and the acceptance that any error could cost one’s life.

  Levi had been eight years old when he’d succeeded in casting his first spell. He had been attacked by a notorious criminal slaver who’d been kidnapping and selling children on the black market. In his panic and desperation, his magic had responded. That one spell had resulted in Levi breaking three of his bones, tearing two ligaments, and coughing out blood for a week afterward.

  It had been well worth the price, though. The slaver had never bothered anyone ever again.

  Meanwhile, magic in this new world was a fucking stroll in the park in comparison. All an individual had to do was say or think the name of the skill, and the System would handle the rest. It gathered the mana within the user, shaped the spell via a magic circle, and prevented any catastrophic backfire that would’ve painted the walls red back in his home world. Advanced adventurers could exert more manual control over their skills for customization and optimization purposes, but for the most part, the System effectively automated the entire process.

  That was also how this world was able to create a quantifiable model of magic. Every person had a certain amount of MP, magical points, and each skill had a fixed MP cost. Some skills were manaless, but most skills required some amount of mana. Physical-based classes typically had low mana costs whereas magical-based classes had higher ones. Conceptual skills required little activation mana from the user, as they drew magic directly from the sponsoring gods themselves.

  That must’ve been why Winthrop’s attacks had seemingly cost so little mana but had been so fast and powerful. He had been using a skill, or perhaps even multiple skills, to enhance and empower his strikes. Or that also explained why Professor Heimler’s magic seemed to be drawing power from some external source – that must’ve been his Conceptual skill.

  It was fucking unfair, really. Levi had spent months or even years sometimes learning a single spell. That same spell could theoretically be learned instantly via the System. And it wasn’t like System skills were weaker or suboptimal; they seemed to be more or less equal in strength and potency.

  Levi let out a long sigh as he leaned back in the chair. As usual, he felt his magic thrumming and shifting beneath his skin. Did the people of this world also feel this sensation? Or did they lack the perception and experience needed to sense magic in its raw form? Probably the latter. Magic sensing was a rare ability even in his world, and it had taken Levi a long time to hone it to what it was now.

  Well, there was no point in complaining. Both magic systems likely had their advantages and disadvantages.

  Besides, he did have the System, didn’t he? Or at least, the body he had been reincarnated into did.

  With a deep breath and a sense of anticipation he hadn’t felt in a while, he opened his mouth and said, “[Status].”

  A screen appeared in front of him.

  *****

  Levi Ironwood

  Class: [LOCKED]

  Concept: [LOCKED]

  Guild: [LOCKED]

  Level 14 [PROGRESSION DISABLED]

  CON: 14 [LOCKED]

  DEX: 9 [LOCKED]

  STR: 10 [LOCKED]

  INT: 6 [LOCKED]

  MAG: 8 [LOCKED]

  Skills: [ACCESS DENIED]

  Attribute Points Available: ??? [ALLOCATION DISABLED]

  [SYSTEM WARNING: User account is currently under restricted status]

  *****

  Levi stared at the screen for a long time.

  “Fuck.”

  that incompetent.

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