Chapter 125: Passage (3/4)

As Zhao Xu stepped out the door, he noticed an elderly man waiting for him. It was hardly surprising that most inhabitants of the Floating City were elderly; after all, a mage’s power was closely tied to the accumulation of time.

Most mages pursued methods to extend their lifespan, rather than the costly and risky path of rejuvenation, let alone the immortal transformations that involved evolving into other races.

“Do you have any instructions for me?” Zhao Xu asked. The man wore a robe without a single emblem or circle. Such attire usually meant one was either an apprentice or a legendary mage.

Of course, there was a third kind—those who were too indifferent to bother with appearances, like the unruly and carefree Reian.

“This, Mr. Midsummer, is your prize for being the first to complete the assessment,” the old man said. His once hunched frame stood upright in the corner, his face etched with the merciless marks of time.

But when he turned to face Zhao Xu, his sharp, piercing eyes radiated an intangible aura of authority.

Having served as a bodyguard to the northern lord in his past life, Zhao Xu almost had the illusion that he was standing before a king.

Yet, no matter how he considered it, it didn’t seem plausible; he could barely recognize all the monarchs of Arthur’s realm.

The old man extended a weathered hand, offering a “self-writing quill.”

Curious, Zhao Xu said, “Haven’t I already received one?”

“No, Mr. Midsummer,” the elder replied, “this one is a reward for surpassing all the apprentices in the hall. The quill Miss Antinoa gave you is a separate, personal reward. They are not mutually exclusive.”

Zhao Xu never turned down gifts offered so freely. Besides, he intended to have Antinoa inspect it before using it.

He accepted the quill casually, noticing the old man remained unmoved, standing straight and unyielding.

Without hesitation or further questions, Zhao Xu proceeded down the corridor.

Unbeknownst to him, the old man subtly bowed in respect as he watched Zhao Xu walk away.

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After returning, Zhao Xu followed Antinoa’s instructions and moved his belongings to the Obelisk Tower.

This was tradition in the Floating City: once an apprentice became a full-fledged mage, their dormitory lease lasted only three months.

It wasn’t that mages lacked places to stay; rather, it was a subtle hint to motivate new mages to find their own accommodations quickly.

Naturally, Zhao Xu’s new affiliation was with the “Final Scroll,” so his dorm was reassigned to the sixth floor of the Obelisk Tower.

The entire tower’s space had been modified, so overcrowding was never an issue in a mage’s vocabulary.

Zhao Xu didn’t have much luggage—mainly some magical tomes he hadn’t brought on previous adventures, neatly packed in his backpack.

As he organized, his mind wandered back to the moment he copied the scroll.

He had expected the task to be arduous, yet when he began, the power of the runes seemed to flow effortlessly from his mind onto the scroll, as if he had copied them a thousand times before.

This uncanny familiarity led Zhao Xu to conclude it was because he was already a level one mage, and mastering the “Scroll Copying” specialty granted him this unique effect.

Most other apprentices first learned to copy scrolls and summon magical pets, then after accumulating enough spells, they officially awakened as mages.

At that moment, Zhao Xu had no idea that his performance had stunned others who started learning the specialty alongside him.

Once he finished moving his things, Zhao Xu finally allowed himself a breath.

He placed Antinoa’s quill and the old man’s quill side by side on the table.

They looked nearly identical, with no distinguishing marks.

Fortunately so; otherwise, it might have implied both came from Antinoa.

Given Antinoa’s personality, she disliked her belongings touching unknown hands.

If it were otherwise, it would mean she had already foreseen Zhao Xu being the first to successfully copy the scroll.

If that were true, her prophecy magic was indeed formidable.

Shortly after, Antinoa arrived at his new dorm.

She was well aware of Zhao Xu’s recent experience but offered no praise. Instead, she said, “Come, I’ll show you why Scroll Scholars are so powerful.”

Hearing this, Zhao Xu immediately connected the dots.

He had long envied the Scroll Scholar profession, believing it rivaled that of mages, largely due to the Scroll Scholars’ enthusiasts on the forums in his past life.

By then, Scroll Scholars were no secret; many knew of this divine caster profession.

They mirrored mages in many ways—studying spells, copying them into prayer books, with intelligence governing spell potency.

Thus, Zhao Xu planned to focus on enhancing his Scroll Scholar abilities, avoiding attribute dilution by focusing solely on intelligence.

The key difference was that Scroll Scholars cast divine magic, not arcane.

Magic was generally divided into two categories: arcane and divine.

Some spells belonged to both, such as Detect Magic, which both mages and clerics could cast.

The Mage Armor spell, favored by Zhao Xu, was purely arcane and inaccessible to clerics.

If Scroll Scholars were that simple, they wouldn’t be so glorified by their fans.

The main advantage lay in class abilities: mages at level one only had the abilities to copy scrolls and summon magical pets, gaining a metamagic feat only every five levels thereafter.

In contrast, Scroll Scholars had only two levels without new abilities from levels 1 to 20; the rest were filled with various enhancements.

What those abilities were remained a mystery on the forums, but everyone yearned for them.

Zhao Xu and Antinoa entered the Obelisk Tower’s magical elevator, a marvel of alchemy powered by magic, descending steadily.

Antinoa, with her infinitely regenerating potential points, preferred teleportation for distances over 300 meters.

For shorter distances around 20 meters, she blinked there using a sustained ninth-level spell, Greater Dimensional Step, not the “Anywhere Door” spell Zhao Xu had initially imagined.

The Obelisk Tower, except for its pinnacle, was warded against teleportation, so Antinoa had no choice but to walk with Zhao Xu.

“Mentor, are we going to practice ‘Dark Knowledge’?” Zhao Xu asked.

Though the Scroll Scholars’ abilities were mysterious, the first ability—Dark Knowledge (Combat)—was somewhat known, said to boost attack power against monsters, making warriors eager to have a Scroll Scholar in their party.

Antinoa, as usual, dismissed his naïve question: “The Scroll Scholar’s abilities aren’t that meaningful. Only the eleventh-level ‘Terrifying Secret’ can somewhat intimidate foes and be effective in combat.”

Zhao Xu understood immediately.

The forum fans had praised the Scroll Scholars from the wrong angle.

It wasn’t about class abilities being powerful, nor their spells.

After all, clerics also wield divine magic, granted freely by their deities.

Mages had to pay to copy spells; so did Scroll Scholars.

If Zhao Xu weren’t fortunate enough to rely on Antinoa, he might now be a mere servant in the Floating City, working to afford his spell-copying materials.

However, on the second floor, Antinoa pulled Zhao Xu aside, turning several corners until they reached a dead-end hallway.

Zhao Xu scanned for secret doors but saw none.

Without hesitation, Antinoa whispered a spell, barely audible.

Zhao Xu’s panel instantly flashed a “Spell Identification Failed” message.

He knew she had cast a spell instantly but had no idea which.

“Let’s go,” Antinoa said.

Zhao Xu looked back but saw no secret passage revealed.

Antinoa grasped his sleeve, leading him forward to the wall.

As they neared, the entire wall shimmered like a phantasmal illusion, offering no resistance as they passed through.

A slight dizziness overcame him, and Zhao Xu realized they were now inside an enclosed chamber—windowless and doorless, like a box.

Without the ceiling light, he might have felt haunted.

“That was a seventh-level spell, Phase Door. It opens a spiritual passage allowing us to pass through the wall,” Antinoa explained.

Zhao Xu finally understood why the room had no doors or windows.

In a place warded against teleportation, a mage’s Phase Door spell served as a one-time key to enter.

Though extravagant, it was effective.

Zhao Xu began to examine the room’s contents.

Twelve identical classical mirrors stood upright like a clock’s twelve-hour markers.

Each mirror was about four feet tall and three feet wide, all covered by dark curtains.

“What are these?” Zhao Xu wondered.

He had seen such mirrors among Antinoa’s collected artifacts when selecting his third method, but they were much larger then; otherwise, he’d have been intrigued.

“These are Enemy Duplicate Mirrors,” Antinoa said.

“If you draw back the curtain and gaze into the mirror, it summons a duplicate of yourself—matching your equipment, abilities, and spells—and it attacks you mercilessly.”

“Are you kidding me?” Zhao Xu, who had remained calm until then, was taken aback.

Could a legendary mage really summon a replica of a legendary mage?

“These mirrors were crafted by the Arcane King Ernest, supposedly using cloning magical principles lost to time. Most remaining ones are stored here. There is a way to break the mirror’s effect, but it’s dangerous. So they’re kept here for containment,” Antinoa explained.

Zhao Xu stared at the twelve mirrors, feeling more unnerved than if he were in a horror film.

Ghosts and spirits were one thing—Antinoa could handle those with ease.

But if one summoned a duplicate of Antinoa herself? While she might prevail, he himself wouldn’t survive the magical backlash.

“What do we need to do?” he asked.

“One of these mirrors leads to a passage. Find it, and we can proceed.”

“Where does it lead to?” Zhao Xu glanced at Antinoa.

“To the original scroll.”