The next day I met with Elesya again to test the spells in practice. This time, I had chosen a different place than the one from the day before. We walked a few hundred steps south of the Academy, to where the grassy land ended and the desert began. It was an arid and desolate place, one students would avoid since they had a far better alternative by going the other way, down to the seashore.

  Elesya had already made me a list of the main spells that could be useful in combat, especially those of air and fire. I was to test them all and select only the ones I considered the most effective.

  On this occasion, I also tested a few rituals from the dean’s treatise, entitled The Magic of the Higher Spheres. The symbols in Vabazon’s book allowed me to use any kind of magic, as long as the spell could be described on paper. Without rushing, I transcribed a few spells and tried them on the spot. To my surprise, not a single spell from the dean’s book worked. The entire book was nothing but a sham—a worthless work, written only so the dean could check off another publication.

  I realized that at Wyrmlithus the same phenomenon existed as in our world: professors published useless books only to gain academic titles.

  I sat down on the ground and pulled out a box of dates, inviting Elesya to join me.

  “Elesya, before we begin the magic exercises, I want to confess something. I feel uncomfortable with the thought that I’m cheating. You see, encapsulated magic is real and works perfectly, but the fact that I’m using it without being a true mage gives me an unpleasant feeling. It’s as if I were stealing the mages’ right to win the contest.”

  Elesya took a date from my box and tried to reassure me:

  “Sam, as long as you’re using this magic solely for survival, I believe it’s morally acceptable. Besides, think of it this way: the other mages have exactly the same opportunities as you. Nothing stopped them from finding the book on Encapsulated Magic as well. They just had to bother to search the library. But, as you know well, the library is a land rarely visited by them.”

  Elesya’s words made me feel a bit better. Still, I wasn’t entirely sure if she said those things out of empathy or because she was thinking about her share of the 25,000 sesterces she would get if we won the contest. Perhaps a little of both.

  “Come on, Sam!” urged Elesya. “Set those thoughts aside now and focus strictly on using magic. Winning the contest is essential if you want to survive in this Academy. There’s only one thing you must be careful about…”

  “What is it?” I asked, curious.

  “Not to let magic corrupt you. Otherwise, you’ll end up like the legendary mage who became a monster.”

  Since I didn’t know this legend, I immediately asked Elesya to tell me the story briefly.

  “It’s a very long tale,” Elesya began. “A true odyssey. It’s about a mage who lived twenty centuries ago. He was young and fearless. One day, he saw the portrait of an extraordinarily beautiful princess who lived on the other side of the world. The mage fell in love with her and decided he had to reach her palace at any cost, even though the journey would be long and extremely dangerous. He set out on a journey that lasted two years. He crossed oceans, burning deserts, and impenetrable forests; he fought with thieves and wild beasts. Every time he felt overwhelmed by hardship, all he needed was to look at the princess’s portrait and his strength would return at once.”

  “And did he eventually reach the princess’s palace?”

  “He did, but…” Elesya sighed, as though she had reached the painful part of the story. “The palace was surrounded by an extremely perilous land, inhabited by monsters almost invulnerable to any form of magic. Crossing that land was sheer suicide. All the bold mages who had tried before had been devoured. The young mage pondered for a long time how he could reach the palace without being slain by the monsters. In the end, he found a solution that cost him everything.”

  “You’ve made me curious, Elesya. What did he do?”

  “He realized that the only way through was to become a monster himself. Only then would the creatures, believing he was one of them, let him pass. The young mage performed a complex spell that completely transformed him.”

  “Quite interesting,” I remarked. “And did he reach the palace?”

  “Transformed into a monster, the mage crossed the perilous land without difficulty and reached the princess’s palace. He even entered her chamber, with no one daring to stop him. But the moment he looked at the girl, he realized she no longer held any interest for him. The brief time he had spent as a monster had already been enough to corrupt his soul and strip away everything human in him.”

  I had already begun to guess how the story would end.

  “So he gave up his love?”

  “Yes,” said Elesya. “The young mage, now a monster, looked at the beautiful princess with indifference. The love that had driven him throughout his journey had vanished. No human feeling remained in him. The mage realized he would be far happier to remain a monster and live among those like him. He turned his back on the princess and went back to the land he had just crossed.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Chewing on a date, I reflected on Elesya’s story. Yes, the risk was real. It was entirely possible that in time I might grow to enjoy pretending to be a mage. But for now, I had no time for such philosophical dilemmas. I needed money to survive at the Academy—otherwise, slavery would be the only option left.

  I let my gaze wander across the sandy expanse of the desert, but the feeling of being blinded by the intense light made me shut my eyes quickly. Then I turned back to the page in Vabazon’s book where spell no. 46 was written. After so much theory, it was time to move on to practice.

  “Alright, Elesya,” I said without further preamble. “Let’s start with the basics—defensive spells. If I can’t protect myself effectively in the arena from their attacks, there’s no point in moving on to anything else.”

  Elesya nodded with a slight tilt of her head and immediately asked:

  “How do you want us to proceed? Shall we begin now?”

  “Yes, right now,” I confirmed. “You’ll stand a hundred steps away from me, next to that mound of earth. I think that’s a fairly common distance during arena fights. Then I’ll activate the magic shield, and you’ll attack me with streams of fire of increasing strength.”

  Elesya raised her well-shaped eyebrows slightly, looking a bit uneasy.

  “Sam, are you sure you want me to use fire magic right from the start? Isn’t that too risky?”

  I shrugged, unconcerned.

  “I have to take the risk if I’m going to test encapsulated magic. Start at the lowest intensity!”

  Elesya walked away until she reached the mound I had indicated.

  “Are you ready, Sam?” she asked. Even from a distance, her voice betrayed a mix of curiosity and concern.

  “I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s begin!”

  I activated protection spell no. 46, and immediately a globe of shimmering filaments of light materialized around me, spinning rapidly in a constant rotation.

  Elesya took a step back and quickly recited a short incantation. A small flame, no larger than a lit match, appeared between her fingers and shot toward me. The shield flickered lightly when the flame struck its invisible wall, then went out like a candle blown by the wind.

  “Now let’s see if it can withstand a stronger attack,” I said.

  Elesya pressed her palms together before her chest and began chanting something more complex, in Latin. In an instant, a tongue of fire burst from her fingertips, much larger than the first, darting at me like an enraged serpent. A blue light flared where the flame struck the filaments, but the fire was absorbed by the shield without issue.

  So far, I was satisfied with the results. The shield was doing its job.

  “Perfect. Now, increase the intensity to maximum. But please, be careful. If my shield gives out, stop your attack immediately. I don’t want to be touched by your flames. Alright, you can begin.”

  Elesya nodded, then raised her arms above her head, opening her palms wide. From them rose a bundle of purplish-blue flames. It was no longer a simple tongue of fire—but a continuous jet, pulsing with force. It seemed almost too strong for training.

  Suddenly, Elesya thrust her palms forward, sending the stream of fire toward me.

  The defensive shield reacted at once. A circle of blue light enveloped my body, absorbing and dispersing the energy of the attack. But I already felt my knees trembling. Even though I carried an energy crystal, I could sense how Vabazon’s symbols were quickly draining its resources.

  “Keep going, Elesya!” I shouted to her. “We need to see if the shield can withstand a maximum-intensity attack over time.”

  For five minutes, a true storm of fire raged upon me.

  I was just about to tell Elesya I was satisfied with the results when the shield around me began to flicker, then went out. Overheated by the energy discharge, the crystal in my pocket exploded with a dry crack, turning into fine sand.

  Elesya stopped the flames at once, but a wave of scorching air still struck me in the face. It felt as though I had suddenly opened the door of an oven. Still, her flames burned out before reaching me.

  Elesya lowered her arms and ran toward me, her face full of concern.

  “Sam, are you alright? Did anything happen to you?”

  I dropped heavily to the ground, struggling for breath. Elesya knelt beside me and pulled out a small tin of berry-scented salve.

  “Sam,” she said softly, “I hope you’re not burned. If you are, let me use this—it heals minor burns almost instantly.”

  I took the tin absentmindedly, my thoughts still on the experiment. At least now I knew. Theoretically, I could fight in the arena, but not for long.

  “No… nothing happened. I’m fine. But I saw the problem. The shield works perfectly, but only as long as it has energy. My crystal won’t last through a serious fight in the arena.”

  “Maybe not all battles will be that intense,” Elesya remarked.

  “In the early qualification rounds, no,” I admitted, “but in the finals I’ll definitely face attacks like this, maybe even worse. It’s clear I can’t withstand the prolonged assault of a mid-level mage—like you, for example.”

  “And then…?” she asked hesitantly. “What will you do? Carry more crystals?”

  “Yes, but even more crystals don’t guarantee success. Too intense a discharge can destroy them, as we just saw. Besides, I can’t show up in the arena with a whole satchel full of crystals. Let’s say I could carry three or four without drawing attention, but any more than that would raise suspicion. I need something entirely different…”

  I fell silent for a few moments, tracing meaningless lines and circles in the sand with my finger.

  “So what will we do, Sam? Will we withdraw from the tournament?”

  With a sudden motion, I smoothed the sand, erasing the drawings I had made earlier.

  “No, of course not,” I said with determination. “I need something special, something no one has thought of…”

  “What exactly?” Elesya asked curiously.

  “Disinformation! That’s the solution.”

  Elesya fell silent for a few moments, not understanding what I meant.

  “Disinformation? What kind of spell is that, Sam?”

  “It’s exactly what we need. A spell that lets us defeat our opponents before they even step into the arena.”