Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Magic of Reading

The next morning, after preparing his spells, Zhao Xu made his way early to the “Library of Knowledge” in the floating city to claim a spot for reading.

This library was a favored haunt of wizards seeking to improve their knowledge skills. It was directly divided into more than a dozen sections, each corresponding to a different category of knowledge. The library itself was vast, with an immense collection, yet most wizards merely found a quiet corner to sit in, their demeanor practically warning strangers to keep their distance.

Since yesterday, following Antinoya’s instructions, Zhao Xu had set his skill preferences on his character sheet and had focused solely on reading. He would only be free to leave once he had raised all ten categories of his knowledge skills to level one.

That was also why Zhao Xu had been so astonished when he heard Antinoya’s request. Even though knowledge skills were practically divine in the context of adventuring, the sheer amount of reading required was overwhelming.

Once a knowledge skill was leveled up, it could be used to conduct associative searches in the information panel. So long as a check was successful, some information would be obtained, the amount depending on the skill level. It was, in effect, Arthur’s version of an academic search engine.

Even so, many combat-oriented classes still wouldn’t invest in knowledge skills. Every profession had its own specialization; for wizards, knowledge was their core skill. They could trade one skill point for one level in a knowledge skill. For warriors, however, knowledge was considered a cross-class skill, costing two skill points per level—twice the effort for half the reward.

After casting a zero-level spell called “Reading Magic” on himself, Zhao Xu hurriedly opened the borrowed book on mysticism, cherishing every second. He had already complained countless times yesterday: why couldn’t the authors of these popular science books on mysticism write in simpler common tongue? Or even in Draconic? Instead, they insisted on using encrypted magical script, as if that alone would prove their status as wizards.

Zhao Xu’s own Knowledge (Arcana) and Spellcraft skills were both at zero. Reading books on mysticism without preparation was risky. With no other choice, he had to rely on the decoding miracle of magical script—“Reading Magic”—to force his way through. This meant his reading speed was limited; he could barely manage one page per minute.

The duration of Reading Magic was ten minutes per caster level. As a mere first-level wizard, that meant only ten minutes per casting. Consequently, today, Zhao Xu had committed all eleven of his arcane and divine spell slots to memorizing “Reading Magic.” After two hours of reading, he would be forced to resort to even slower manual decoding.

The potency of many spells depended on the caster level. If Zhao Xu waited until he was a second-level wizard, he could maintain “Reading Magic” for twenty minutes—a much more comfortable pace. But he could only blame his low level for now.

Above the library was a glass dome that let in light, and the room was ringed with ever-burning magical illuminations. Yet, since his Intelligence score of 17 was not yet truly his own, Zhao Xu found himself fighting off drowsiness as he read these tomes on mysticism. Compared to learning spells, the incentive to level up knowledge skills was much less compelling. This explained why so few player-wizards were present in the vast library; most preferred to gather in the spell hall.

Suddenly, Zhao Xu noticed Antinoya had taken a seat diagonally across from him, holding a tome with a cover full of mysterious symbols. He couldn’t help but exclaim, “Mentor, you need to read too?”

Though Zhao Xu had never seen Antinoya’s true face—only the vague outline shrouded in dimness—he had spent enough time with her that, even if she changed robes, he could recognize her instantly.

“I haven’t used up my skill points for this level,” Antinoya replied carelessly, already leafing through her book.

The cover of Antinoya’s book bore three warning seals. Yesterday, when Zhao Xu entered the library, the curator had cautioned him not to read books marked with warning seals above his level. The book in Antinoya’s hands, with its three seals, was likely only accessible to those of legendary rank.

“Mentor, you can already retrieve most information at will. Do you still need to level up your knowledge?” Zhao Xu asked, puzzled.

Antinoya shot him a glance. “You didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Zhao Xu looked around, ensuring the area was mostly deserted. In public spaces like those in the floating city, divination and eavesdropping spells were usually blocked, making it difficult for anyone to listen in.

“It’s not really a secret,” Antinoya said. “If you want to become a legendary wizard, there’s a requirement for Knowledge (Arcana). And it also determines the number of legendary spells you can cast.”

“What’s the requirement?” Zhao Xu’s ears perked up.

“Are you able to cast ninth-level arcane spells yet?”

Zhao Xu shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Then why are you asking so much?”

“You said it wasn’t a secret, didn’t you?” Zhao Xu pressed.

“It’s not a secret for a twentieth-level wizard, but for a first-level one like you, it is.”

Chastened, Zhao Xu turned back to his book on mysticism. But now, knowing it was tied to becoming a legendary wizard, the magical script seemed to come alive. With every sentence, he could almost see the “Legendary Wizard Progress Bar” behind him show “Experience +1.”

Ten minutes later, the duration of “Reading Magic” ended. The previously friendly magical script instantly became impenetrably complex—he couldn’t even focus his eyes on the text. Zhao Xu hurriedly closed the book, about to pick up the crystal on the table and cast “Reading Magic” again.

Suddenly, he realized Antinoya hadn’t seemed to cast any spells at all. As a legendary wizard, she must be level twenty or higher. That meant her zero-level “Reading Magic” would last 200 minutes—three or four hours!

Seizing the moment, Zhao Xu leaned over and said, “Mentor, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Go ahead,” Antinoya replied cheerfully, not looking up from her book.

“Could you cast ‘Reading Magic’ on me? With your level, it would last four hours, while mine only lasts ten minutes. Please? It’s just a zero-level spell slot.”

Antinoya turned to look at him directly. “Don’t you have the ‘Spell Duration Extension’ feat from the Planning Domain? That should let you make it last twenty minutes.”

Zhao Xu could only respond with a helpless expression.

“Oh, right. I forgot to mention yesterday—you probably haven’t dared to use that feat just yet. No matter. I’ll be teaching you the rest of the feats soon enough.”

“But let me tell you a few things,” Antinoya continued. “I didn’t prepare ‘Reading Magic’ as a zero-level spell today.”

“You don’t need to use ‘Reading Magic’?” Zhao Xu asked, surprised.

“No. I’ve made that spell permanent.”