Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Path of the Mage

In the days that followed, Zhao Xu devoted himself wholeheartedly to strengthening his abilities, making no further contact with the players. It was only after Antinoya’s later explanation that he finally understood: within the three domains of his priestly powers, his magical domain had resonated with the source of magic itself. That was why, in that instant, he had managed to raise his Spell Identification skill to level four. Antinoya had set up the “Prismatic Sphere” precisely to test this. Immediately afterward, she had herded him, like a sheep, into receiving a “Magic Missile”—all to make him quickly harness the lingering power of the source, which allowed him to directly master the ability of “Counterspell.”

The only aftermath of this incident was that a player who had witnessed it in the underground plaza posted about it on the forum. The post analyzed two main points: that Zhao Xu had spoken Mandarin instead of the common tongue, and that the female mage’s “Magic Missile” had failed to cast successfully. The poster concluded that “Zhao Xu is a player who has mastered Counterspell,” a claim met with ridicule from many forum experts. After all, since the game’s launch, not a single player had managed to acquire such an ability. Even the vanguard who became level-one mages between the seventh and fourteenth days had failed to achieve this feat. In Mystra—a city where players broke the record by becoming mages in just twenty days—it seemed unlikely to produce such a prodigy. Zhao Xu’s only response was to upvote comments that refuted the original poster.

At the same time, the stirring of the magical domain finally led Zhao Xu’s own knowledge domain to show signs of connecting with the source of knowledge. He spent most of each day in the Floating City’s Library of Erudition, poring over all manner of books. Unlike at the beginning, when he had barely managed to raise Knowledge (Arcane) to level one, now nearly every knowledge skill was rapidly improving. Once he’d finished with the knowledge skills, he wrapped up the remaining bonus languages and similar tasks.

At last, Zhao Xu followed Antinoya to the seventh floor of the Obelisk Tower—the “Celestial Cross.” As the tallest spire in the Floating City, the Obelisk Tower also served as the headquarters of “The Final Scroll.” The tower itself had been remodeled to expand its space, and countless magical barriers were woven around it. Without fifth-level teleportation spells, one would need a portal just to enter.

“Mentor, your office is rather lavish,” Zhao Xu remarked as he surveyed Antinoya’s usual workplace. Not to mention the various golems patrolling outside; even the set of fearsome, skeletal armor in the reception room held his gaze for quite some time. In his previous life, warriors had coveted nothing more than such mighty full plate armor—on Earth, it would be as prized as a house or car.

Antinoya, a mage, probably couldn’t even wear such armor, and it was likely the defensive bonuses it provided were still less than those granted by her own spells. “Don’t touch it—that’s a lesser artifact,” Antinoya warned. Lately, with his focus on improving his skills, Zhao Xu thought he’d grown more composed in the face of important matters, yet hearing this still made his heart race slightly.

“A lesser artifact?”

“That’s right. This armor is excellent—it grants immunity to a great many negative effects, but it imposes arcane spell failure, so we mages can’t wear it. Pity you’re a mage, too, or it would suit you. Combined with your divine spells, you’d be a terror on the battlefield.”

Zhao Xu walked around the armor, unable to resist asking, “Aren’t you afraid someone will steal it, leaving it here?”

“Anyone strong enough to break in here would go straight to the lowest level to steal, not bother with my room. What’s the point? It’s just a minor artifact.”

“What’s down there?”

“Think about the name of our organization,” Antinoya replied with a smile. Zhao Xu nodded, realization dawning—so the legendary scroll guarded by their faction was kept at the base of this spire. Within it lay the secrets of each successive goddess of magic’s ascension.

Zhao Xu, always pondering suspicious details, now found his curiosity overwhelming as he stood in Antinoya’s domain. He asked in a low voice, “Mentor, have you blocked all divination and detection spells here?”

“Of course. Even divine power probably can’t eavesdrop in here,” Antinoya replied serenely. “That armor’s greatest value as a relic is, with the blessing of legendary spells, it can interfere with the senses of the gods. If you invoke a deity’s true name here, they might not even make out what comes next—though don’t push your luck. I have no desire to draw divine attention.”

At this, Zhao Xu was finally reassured; so it wasn’t just for show, after all. “Mentor, if the scroll contains the secret of apotheosis, why hasn’t anyone tried to steal it and read it in secret?”

City walls can keep out external foes but not internal traitors. No matter how high one climbs, a servant of the goddess is still not as free as a true god. Antinoya was reviewing new official documents as she answered, “Let me put it this way: basically, every legendary mage in the ‘Final Scroll’ has read that scroll. So the secret of becoming a god is common knowledge among us.”

Suddenly, Zhao Xu felt the topic was far beyond his pay grade as a level-one character, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. He checked his divine spells—none had vanished—then pressed on, “Doesn’t that make it even stranger?”

Antinoya paused to size Zhao Xu up. “Usually, people don’t dare ask about things like this until they’re about to become high-level mages. You’re rather bold.”

Thanks to Antinoya’s guidance in recent days, Zhao Xu’s mindset had made a significant leap, no longer the timid soul of his past life. “Mentor, what is it, then?” he pressed, his voice rising slightly.

“Come here. Study the specialties you’ll be learning next, then go out and get some real experience,” Antinoya replied, not bothering to hide her impatience. It was the first time she hadn’t answered him directly; even when it came to legendary secrets, Antinoya had always been frank. He couldn’t help but sense that the “Final Scroll” organization’s ability to draw so many legendary mages was not as simple as just guarding the scroll itself.

“You still have two feats left, right?” Antinoya asked softly.

Zhao Xu nodded. “I still have the level-one feat and the human bonus feat to decide on.” He’d already chosen “Strange Foreknowledge” and “Spell Familiarity” as his two flaw feats.

“So, what abilities do you want to improve?” Antinoya asked.

“I thought you’d be assigning specialties,” Zhao Xu replied.

“Idiot. You can choose the order in which you learn them, and our assignments are more of a general guideline—the specifics aren’t set in stone. They’re all powerful anyway.”

Hearing this, Zhao Xu hesitated. He examined his spell panel, lost in thought. What was he most lacking? Wizards had so few spell slots each day, but now that he had priestly magic as well, he could just about get by.

Suddenly, Zhao Xu’s gaze fell on his prepared spell slots. “Mentor, is there a feat that increases flexibility? Like Strange Foreknowledge, something that lets me cast whatever spell I want, whenever I want?”

“There is—‘Versatile Caster.’”