Quill brushed over his clothes.

  His Meldhide Cloak was now a shade darker, and the dirt on his tunic made it uncomfortable to wear. It was as if he were a pig, having bathed in dry mud, and a dignified lich like him shouldn't look like one.

  He patted the dust and dirt off his clothes, making sure to clean up as much as he could before leaving the rest for later. He then rolled his head around the crowd before finding Gerald still heaving on the ground.

  “The mind it is, then.” He beamed a grin at Gerald, warranting a defeated smile on his face.

  “You got me,” Gerald said. “I didn't expect you to use Simple Spells in such a way.”

  “I would've lost if I moved according to your rhythm,” Quill said. “As of now, I still can't fight you head-on in a battle of magic.”

  Gerald was a good mage, having the basic foundation of both skill and talent to take him this far. If the fight was solely based on spellcasting, then he would've won easily with the way Quill was right now.

  But in the end, it was Quill who took the victory. Raw power and strength were next to nothing against a well-constructed plan. Given enough time and preparation, even a god can be killed by a bird.

  “It’s time to pay up.” Quill pointed to Gerald's pockets.

  “I won't be so easy next time.” Gerald produced a gold coin in his hand. He gave away a sigh before handing it over.

  Quill grabbed his loot, staring at it with a grin, before he then walked back towards his side of the crowd.

  And that was when he noticed it.

  There were eyes of people on him, sending a tingle down his neck as if he had done something wrong. He measured their gaze, and half of them were rooted in jealousy like all the nobles here, while the rest were surprisingly sparkling.

  “You really need a bath.” Rhena slapped his back, almost sending him tumbling forward. “You look like a pig.”

  “I’m well aware.” Quill rubbed his back. He still needed to wait for the results.

  “You were great.” Rognor nodded before resting his giant arm on Quill's shoulder. “How did you even think of using Application and Reversal like that?”

  “It doesn't matter how he did it,” Narrah said. “He won against a noble! Can you think of anything more amazing than that here in the entrance exam?”

  A strange, warm feeling pulsed inside Quill's chest. He had never been praised before, and he wasn't exactly opposed to the idea either. He deserved this much as a century-old mage, at least.

  Quill coughed before turning his attention to the panel under the stage. The judges only needed to formalize his win now, and it didn't take long for them to reach an agreement. When the news of his victory finally came, half of the crowd stirred in disagreement.

  Some shouted while others raised questions around the courtyard. Their hands were fighting with the air, and for a moment they looked like a mob ready to stake the judges. Quill was surprised for once. They must've bet a ton of money on Gerald's win.

  “That was just simple magic!” One shouted from the back of the crowd. “Gerald would've won if he hadn't used such cheap tricks to throw him off!”

  “Are weapons even allowed if you're not a swordmage?” Another one said.

  “He’s supposed to be a summoner!”

  Quill could only roll his eyes.

  Gerald was indeed the better mage in their fight, exhibiting greater skill in spellcasting in general. With the one month Quill had been practicing as a White Summoner, he hardly saw himself defeating a mage with years and years of practice, even with the knowledge and skill from his past life.

  He had no real counter to Gerald’s Quickscripts, and he had a major disadvantage with the one and only Complex Spell he had instead of Gerald's two. It was only because of his experience in battles that he came out of the fight with a win. He made good use of his arsenal, however simple it was, and that was taken into account by the panel of judges.

  He had taken the victory fair and square.

  The battle wasn't only to show off flashy magic, but also the ingenuity of the combat mages. The panel knew that, but even then, their decision was drowned out by the masses.

  “Quiet!” Kael stood on the wooden stage, beckoning the crowd to silence. “This test is not a fashion walk–it's a fight between two combat mages. Whether you like it or not, Fenith Cranfether has earned his victory.”

  One of the individuals in the opposing crowd stepped forward. It was a noble elf with a scar on his cheek. “I understand, Chancellor, but it’s obvious that he has no honor in resorting to cheap tricks. Would you want to have such a mage here in academy?”

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  “Did I not make myself clear?” Kael said.

  “Very well.”

  Quill hummed a titter to himself before the panel of judges raised their hands, the final say to his victory. The crowd hushed when their hands started to rise.

  Four out of four of the judges raised their hands for Quill, and four out of four raised their hands for Gerald. It was a draw in a play of hands, and in the end, they didn't seem to have revoked their prior statement, even against the backlash of the noble families.

  It was a resounding win for Quill.

  “How does it feel to be the most hated mage in the academy?” Rhena beamed a grin over Quill's shoulder.

  “They were clearly in the wrong.” Narrah frowned across the other side. “Fenith won fair and square. It's unfair that they treat him like this.”

  “It's a political problem, I think,” Rognor said. “Gerald’s family has close ties to many nobles here in the city. It would be a bad look if their prodigy was defeated by a lower house.”

  Quill found himself stuck in his head before he then shook the thought off. Instead, he directed his attention to the three around him. It was a first for him to gain any amount of recognition, and it felt refreshing compared to the centuries of total isolation.

  They sat through the rest of the remaining battles until all of them had been satisfied. When all the mages were done and accounted for, Kael had given a parting speech for the true Initiates at the end of the night. He had given them the official name of academy mages, formalizing their membership into the academy.

  With the Chancellor’s words alone, Quill had secured his security from the hands of the City Watch. He couldn't wait for the news to get to the old man Haref, but before all of that, he just wanted to take a bath first.

  The night ended with the academy staff guiding the Initiates to their respective lodgings.

  There was going to be a banquet held in the foodhall to celebrate the formalization of the Initiates, but Quill was already worn out from the day. Food and alcohol were the last thing on his mind, especially when all the noble families would be attending.

  He didn't really feel like getting into a drunken fist fight with anyone right now.

  Rhena and Narrah split first from their group, heading in opposite directions from the men’s dormitory. It was only Quill and Rognor now, making small talk before they made their way inside the large building.

  Looking around, the halls were much humbler than the castle, made more of wood and plaster than the marble Quill was so used to, but it suited him fine.

  He waved a quick goodbye to Rognor on the other side, entering his room with a before he closed it behind him. Darkness swamped his vision, and for a moment, he cast Mana Light to drown the dark corners before he then found the lamps and lanterns.

  It was a big room.

  He immediately started for the bath, entering the door on one wall before pushing through all the bathroom furniture. He dropped to the wooden tub with a sigh of pure bliss, relishing in the warm water before he found himself staring at the ceiling.

  The ceiling was made of wooden beams criss-crossed like anchors over plaster, supported by beams running along the corners of the walls. The bathroom itself was small, but it was more than enough, even with the small bathtub.

  Quill stirred through the water and squeezed his arms. His bruises were dark and swollen, all the more apparent from the light of the lantern on the wall. It had been a tiring day, and he could only hope he could rest for the evening to recover soon. The Healer before was a strict woman, not willing to lose mana over bruises.

  After a few minutes of soaking, Quill pulled himself out before wrapping himself dry. He opened the door again to the main room, making his way to his bag before pulling out a set of clean clothes. He donned the shirt and shorts before he put on the Register back to his finger.

  : Dexterous Fingers III

  : Your fingers move with more speed, agility, and precision.

  : Grit Mind I

  : Your mind has been sharpened in hand-to-hand combat.

  Quill looked back on his fight with Gerald.

  If it wasn't for these Traits along with his use of Simple Spells, then he would've lost to Gerald's superior magic. It was still a far reality to bridge the gap between his past and his present self, but it became all the more apparent now–it was going to take a while to exact his revenge on Pormor.

  That didn't mean Quill was going to stop growing as a mage. It only solidified his current strength in this body. Nevertheless, no matter how many years it was going to take, it was a fact that he was going to continue to grow stronger and stronger until the time eventually comes. He could take his time until then.

  He didn’t need to rush.

  But that realization only fueled Quill's passion to grow faster. He shook his head, throwing off the drowsiness in his mind. He couldn't sleep now, especially when there were so many things to absorb and learn from his fight with Gerald.

  The reason why he couldn't cast White Sphere and his other spells quick enough was because he didn't have the Quickscripts for White.

  If only he had it then, then the crowd wouldn't have had such a divide in opinion.

  Quill put on his robe before starting towards the door. Even this late at night, the academy library was still open when they passed by. At least for tonight, he needed to review what he learned for spoken and written Scripts and make a foundation to consolidate his spells with Quickscripts.

  Just when Quill opened the door, Rhena was on the other side, about to knock herself. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, patted dry by the towel around her neck. She was as surprised as Qull was, though her face immediately contorted to a devilish grin the moment Rognor and Narrah appeared from behind her.

  “It's the middle of the night,” Quill said. “Do you have business with me?”

  “Well...” Rognor pulled out a barrel from nowhere. The smell was all that Quill needed to understand, prompting a frown on his face.

  It was the smell of alcohol.

  Thanks for reading!