Night at the Black Tower Magus Academy was a fever dream of magic, the air crackling with mana as if the stars themselves had descended.
The campus sprawled beneath a velvet sky, its black spires piercing the heavens, their rune-lit windows glowing like eyes in the dark. Luminweed lined the paths, their dandelion-like heads casting a soft, otherworldly glow, pulsing faintly with mana stolen from a conquered plane. Edwyn strode toward Dormitory Tower 012, his boots crunching on the gravel, his red hair catching the luminweed's light like a flame. The forest's scars, Saban's gash on his chest, the ache in his bones, lingered. Above, seven or eight Apprentices zipped through the air, their robes billowing, trails of mana sparking behind them like comets.
"What, night school for wizards?" Edwyn muttered, his voice dripping with mockery as he craned his neck. "Guess sleep's overrated around here." He reached the tower's entrance, a monolithic slab of black stone framed by two bronze knockers, each shaped like a serpent's coil. Above them loomed a metallic lion head, its mane etched with runes, its eyes glinting with a faint red glow, as if it could spring to life and bite.
Edwyn rapped the knocker, the sound echoing like a gong.
Dong, dong, dong.
"Yo, lion-face, open up for the VIPs!" he called, his grin wide.
The lion's eyes flared red, its jaw creaking open. "Another batch of fresh meat, eh?" it rumbled, its voice a gravelly mix of menace and boredom. "Show me your crystal orbs, brats."
Elia yelped, nearly dropping her orb. "It talks!" she squeaked, her golden hair singed, her blue eyes wide with awe and nerves.
Edwyn chuckled, tossing his orb in the air and catching it with a flourish. "Relax, Goldilocks, it's just a fancy doorbell." He held out the orb, a flawless sphere from the owl's sack, its surface shimmering with a quality far beyond the exam's crude versions. Elia fumbled hers out, her hands trembling but her expression determined.
The lion's eyes scanned the orbs, red beams flickering over their surfaces. "Apprentice Edwyn. Apprentice Elia. Welcome to Dormitory Tower 012," it growled, the door groaning open with a hiss of mana, revealing a dusty hall cloaked in shadow.
"Home sweet home," Edwyn said, stepping inside, his boots kicking up dust clouds. The first floor was a cavernous shell, its stone walls bare, the air stale with disuse. "Looks like nobody's thrown a party here in years."
Inside the Residential Tower, the lobby was a sleek chamber of black stone, its walls etched with runes that pulsed softly, guiding newcomers to empty rooms. A crystal panel glowed at the center, listing available floors. Edwyn tapped it, his grin sly as he scanned the options.
"Fifth floor's got a view of the Commercial Zone, prime spot for people-watching," he said, selecting two adjacent rooms.
Elia clutched her satchel, her eyes wide as the panel chimed, assigning her a key, a small rune stone that hummed with mana. "This is… so cool," she said, turning the stone in her hands. "Back home, I shared a room with my sisters. Now I've got my own tower room?"
Edwyn leaned against the wall. "Perks of surviving the forest. Stick with me, and you'll be living like a noble in no time." He tossed his own key, catching it with a flourish. "Let's check out the digs, bet they've got better beds than that airship bunk."
The fifth-floor hallway was lit by luminweed embedded in the walls, their glow casting intricate shadows. Edwyn's room was sparse but functional, a bed with rune-warmed blankets, a desk, a wardrobe, and a window overlooking the Commercial Zone's bustling stalls.
"Not bad," he said, flopping onto the bed with a grin. "Beats sleeping in leaves."
Elia peeked in, her room a mirror of his. "Edwyn, this is… amazing. Thanks for, you know, sticking around."
He waved it off, his grin softening. "Don't get sappy. We're neighbors now, gotta keep an eye on you so you don't blow up the tower with a bad spell." He stood, stretching. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, we dive into this mage circus."
Elia nodded, claiming the room next door, her smile shy but warm. "Good night, Edwyn."
"Night, Goldilocks. Don't let the gargoyles bite," he teased, shutting his door.
His room was a spartan sanctuary, thirty square meters of black stone, a bed with rune-warmed blankets, a desk, a wardrobe, and a private washroom with a copper basin.
After sweeping out dust and checking for arcane creepy-crawlies, Edwyn unpacked. He hung Saban's greatsword on the wall, its blade catching the luminweed's glow like a silent trophy. The Synthetic Beast Core, Ice Spike ring, Fireball staff, and Saban's bracers went on the desk, their faint mana pulses humming in the quiet. From the owl's sack, he pulled a black robe, a rulebook, a meditation manual, and ten Mana Stones, their glow a small fortune.
He lifted the robe, its silk-like fabric shimmering with faint mana. The Infinite Forge trembled in his soul, a hungry spark.
"Well, damn, you like this, huh?" Edwyn muttered, his grin sly. Probing it with his spiritual sense, a message flooded his mind: Lucky apprentice, you've received a premium apprentice mage robe handcrafted by Alchemy Master Joron. This robe is inscribed with Force Barrier, Aura Concealment, and Purification spells. It has a built-in recharge loop. A must-have for surviving ambushes and assassinations among Elementary Apprentices.
Edwyn snorted.
"Joron, you twisted old coot. Writing love notes for your murder-proof pajamas?" The robe's premium status sparked a theory: maybe the Forge only ate high-grade gear, snubbing the Ice Spike ring and Fireball staff as cheap knockoffs. The Forge confirmed it, offering:
[Material: Apprentice Mage Robe]
[Extractable Craft: Spell Inscription (Incomplete)]
[Extraction Cost: 15 Spiritforce]
[Extractable Knowledge: Forcefield Protection Model, Aura Concealment Model, Purification Model]
[Extraction Cost: 5 Spiritforce].
"Whoa!" Edwyn said, his eyes gleaming. "Three spells for five Spiritforce, or a crafting trick for fifteen? Talk about a menu." The spells were basic, but the crafting technique was a game-changer, though it risked knocking him out again.
"Exam's still on, but I'm safe here… screw it, let's roll the dice." He chose the Spell Inscription extraction, and the Forge roared to life, mana surging through his soul. His vision blackened, and he collapsed, the world fading to nothing.
Noon sunlight poured through Edwyn's window, rousing him from his Forge-induced blackout. He sat up, groggy, his head throbbing like he'd downed a barrel of Blackwood ale. "Was I out that long?" he groaned, rubbing his temples.
"Note to self: extraction's a hell of a hangover."
The Infinite Forge glowed faintly, its knowledge flooding his mind. He became one with mana, threads of blue light weaving from his fingertips, forming spell lines that danced like silk in the air. Words shimmered, Force Barrier, Aura Concealment, Purification, then unraveled, the vision fading.
"Whoa, that's some next-level wizardry!" Edwyn said, staring at his hands, a ghostly blue glow lingering. "An Arch-Mage's creation, and it's just a piece of the puzzle? These guys are monsters."
The realization hit hard: Arch-Mages weren't just powerful, they were gods of magic, their skills a universe beyond his.
"One day, maybe," he muttered, shaking off the awe. "Gotta start somewhere." He splashed water on his face, the copper basin's runes warming it to a soothing heat, and opened the Magus Academy rulebook. The forest had taught him one thing: the Academy's books were gospel.
The rules were deceptively lenient, no fighting in the Residential Zone, respect the library, obey the Overseers, but a darker truth lurked. Every ten years, Apprentices faced a Blood Trial, a blood-soaked gauntlet like the entrance exam. Two survivals were required to graduate, and even then, the final choice was brutal: risk a deadly exam for Arch-Mage status or pay thirty years' tuition, a debt that'd chain a farmer's son like Edwyn for a century.
"What, did the Chancellor major in extortion?" Edwyn growled, his grin souring. "This place isn't a school, it's a gladiator pit with better decor."
Restless, he headed downstairs, the lion head's eyes glinting as he approached.
"Yo, tin kitty, spill the beans," Edwyn said, leaning against the doorframe. "What's the deal with this place? Gimme the insider scoop."
The lion's jaw creaked, its voice dry. "Hmph! Cheeky brat. Fine, library's open to all, most books are free to borrow. Overseers love nuts and gems; slip 'em some, and they might ignore a tardy curfew. Used Mana Stones trade for Academy Coins, but haggle hard, merchants here are sharks."
Edwyn grinned, bowing mockingly. "You're a gem, lion-face. How about some alchemy oil paste for those rusty joints? Keep you purring smooth."
The lion's eyes flickered, almost amused. "Rust's my eternal foe, kid. Get me that balm, and I'll owe you one."
Edwyn hit the Commercial Zone, a chaotic bazaar of glowing stalls, the air thick with the scent of herbs, molten metal, and mana-charged dust. Apprentices haggled over spell scrolls, while Arch-Mages peddled artifacts glowing with runes. He traded a used Mana Stone for 25 Academy Coins, snagging a jar of de-rusting balm, new leather shoes, and a few tunics, black, to match the Academy's vibe.
Back at the tower, he smeared the balm on the lion's hinges, its groan of relief almost comical. "You're welcome, big guy," Edwyn said, tossing the jar. "Now don't rat me out for sneaking snacks."
After a hot bath, a nutrient potion, still tasting like fermented grass, and a fresh tunic, Edwyn felt human again. He headed for the library, its sacred status a warning: disrespect it, and the librarian, a Rank Three Arch-Mage, could expel you on the spot. His new robe shimmered, its spells humming softly, a perfect fit for the occasion.
"Time to crack some books and figure out this mage game," he muttered.
The library was a cathedral of knowledge, its black stone arches soaring, its shelves packed with tomes that glowed faintly with mana. Crystal chandeliers floated overhead, their light refracting through rune-etched windows, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.
Edwyn stepped inside, his boots silent on the polished stone, his robe's Aura Concealment muting his presence.