People could adapt to anything. Saffra knew that on a personal level, not as some truism. Her life had veered off course wildly on two occasions now, and she’d settled into a routine both times, despite how world-ending each had seemed. And there were people who had gone through worse, she knew, and they had learned to get by. People were resilient. By nature, they survived.

That said. While Lady Vivi’s introduction into Saffra’s life was a good left turn for once, how could she possibly get used to…this?

A full set of transcendent quality gear. A ten-times multiplier on experience gain. A phoenix feather that summoned a Titled guardian. A spell that could one-shot monsters a hundred levels higher than her. With more, equally strong spells to come.

It was too much. And the surprises didn’t seem to be slowing down.

Over the course of the hour-long hunting expedition, she cast several dozen [Scorchlances], instantly killing three-quarters of her targets. The other one-fourth, she either missed or failed to properly manifest the spell, and Lady Vivi had to step in to save her. Which was deeply embarrassing, though she knew it shouldn’t be.

She didn’t level up twice with every kill. That would have been ridiculous—as if it happening once wasn’t. Levels weren’t totally predictable to begin with, but that initial jump had probably come from the Grand System recognizing the achievement of killing a monster a hundred levels higher. Leveling was feat-based as much as effort-based, and not always linear. The Grand System was far from perfectly understood, as she’d told Lady Vivi.

Saffra had been level three hundred and eighty-five when they had met, and she had gained one level since then through training and the events of the Convoy. Killing twenty-five  monsters, which was equivalent to two hundred and fifty thanks to her apprenticeship status, had rocketed her up in advancement faster than she had thought possible.

As in, literally faster than she had thought possible. In her wildest dreams, she couldn’t have imagined a confluence of factors, no matter how imaginative, that would allow for fourteen levels in a single hour of hunting. She knew a person could make blazing progress through the lower ranks, especially below gold—noble families made use of heirloom gear and apprenticeship bonuses all the time. But that many levels? And so fast? It boggled the mind.

And kind of made her angry. Never mind that she was the one benefiting; the sheer unfairness didn’t sit right with her. Levels should go to those who worked the hardest. Or, more realistically, the hardest-working talents, since the world could never really be fair. Some people simply learned and grew faster.

But seriously. She had spent so many hundreds of nights studying until she’d crashed into bed in a dead stupor, or, more recently, risking her life out in the forests surrounding Prismarche, and in that time, she had seen progress at a tiny fraction of what she had this past hour. And she was most definitely not ‘trying harder’, nor had she suddenly become ‘more deserving’. She’d just been in the right place at the right time, and a strange, powerful mage had taken interest in her.

All that said. While a part of her was outraged, she couldn’t help but be a little giddy too. Or a lot giddy. She had gained fourteen levels in one day.

And more importantly: she had crossed the four-hundred barrier.

“There it is,” Saffra announced as the most recent monster exploded into a shower of ice shards. A thrill of excitement and anxiety seized her as the screen appeared, announcing her level—with two more screens behind it, waiting to be read.

“Oh? Good news?” Lady Vivi asked.

She’d warned Vivi that she was getting close, since obviously, the one-hundred-level summits were a big deal. Not just as some arbitrary crowning milestone—though it certainly felt incredible to say she’d climbed that mountain—but also because of tangible benefits. There were few hard and fast rules when it came to the Grand System and how it doled out classes, stats, and skills, but there was an undeniable trend toward the ten, fifty, and hundred-level increments providing larger bonuses, with the hundred-level marks often offering a class evolution and a cornerstone skill.

Holding her breath, she mentally reached out and dismissed the level-up notification. The screen behind it became visible. Her heart all but leapt into her throat as she read the words ‘Class Evolution’.

Saffra had spent the last few years aiming for an [Elementalist] class. If she was honest with herself, that decision didn’t stem from a deep fondness for elemental spells, but rather, a practical mindset. The truth of the matter was that more complex magics—sometimes even the most basic versions of them—were locked behind social connections.

Whether family inheritance, guild, noble title, or simply currying favor from an Institute mage, the more esoteric spells like divination, illusions, druidism, or any other weren’t available to an orphaned commoner of perhaps mildly impressive, but not truly notable talent.

Especially because her attitude issues hadn’t endeared her to the proper families or institutions. She’d never been good at sucking up, and most Grand Magi possessed fearsome egos. Ones that needed stroking if she wanted to get into their good graces and learn their magics.

Hence, she had pursued elemental spells. It was a staple branch for a reason. With no shortage of firepower or utility, [Elementalists] were highly sought after in adventuring teams—and that had always been her long-term goal. She’d not once imagined herself cooped up on the highest floors of the Institute, researching ever-more-inscrutable spells. She wanted to be out in the world. Making a difference.

So. Simple, effective, and easily available as elemental spells were, it had been her obvious choice.

But [Elementalist] wasn’t the evolution she received.

She blinked a few times. Rubbed her eyes and looked again. The words didn’t change.

***

Congratulations! Your class [Initiate Mage] has transitioned into [Pupil of the Magus Prime].

***

The announcement caught her so off guard she couldn’t help but blurt out, “Huh?”

Nearly every waking moment in the past few years she had devoted to learning elemental spells. How could she not get that class variation?

…Because of her apprenticeship to a powerful draconic mage, obviously.

The implications slowly settled in. Inheritance-type classes weren’t unheard of. Maybe the most famous example was that of [Sword Saints] and their disciples. But they were vanishingly rare, because it meant the Grand System acknowledged the master of said pupil as so staggeringly important that even their student deserved a special class. So far as she knew, they didn’t bestow a specific benefit…but apprenticeship to someone even the Grand System acknowledged was, by itself, more valuable than nearly anything in the world.

That wasn’t what had Saffra freezing up, though. Not the biggest part. She already knew Lady Vivi, by simple merit of having reached level nineteen hundred, was one of the strongest casters in the world. Likely near peerless even among immortal-kind, not too much weaker than the Dragon King.

No. The part she didn’t understand was that inherited classes surely required intent. The Grand System wouldn’t label a [Disciple of the Sword Saint] as such unless the Sword Saint truly considered his disciple his disciple. Apprenticeship statuses were just that: statuses. Easily gained and easily lost—nobles bought them for their scions all the time. Classes, while not permanent, were obviously a far stronger decree.

“Good news?” Lady Vivi prompted again, oblivious to Saffra’s internal panic.

“Y-yeah. Class evolution.”

She spoke the words automatically, thoughts rushing forward.

This meant…Lady Vivi actually saw her as her apprentice? Her promise to train her wasn’t a temporary muse that would fade any day now?

Well. Saffra supposed she didn’t actually know how student-type classes worked. They might be as transient as apprenticeship statuses, even if that didn’t make sense.

“[Elementalist]?” Lady Vivi insisted, the extended silence making her look at Saffra oddly. “What is it?”

“No. Um. I got…I got something else. Something weirder.”

Pupil of the Magus Prime.

What was that, anyway? ‘Magus Prime’? From her understanding, that would be Lady Vivi’s [Sword Saint] equivalent. A special class assigned by the Grand System in acknowledgement of incredible talent in her field. She had never heard of it though. Maybe ‘Magus Prime’ was a title that held great weight in dragon society, in the same way Sword Saint did for mortals?

There was another interpretation. That Magus Prime wasn’t a long-standing title that many casters before Lady Vivi had held. But rather what it said. Magus Prime. TheHighest Mage.

She threw that idea away as hastily as she could. Not because it wasn’t plausible, but because acknowledging that her master might be the strongest spellcaster in the world was way, way too terrifying.

And surely Lady Vivi wasn’t. That title had to belong to the Dragon King. Or another of a few legendary figures. Though she wasn’t sure whether they counted as mages, rather than ‘used magic sometimes’. At level nineteen hundred…and clearly a pure magic-user…Lady Vivi really might be the strongest [Mage].

“Something weirder?” Lady Vivi prompted patiently.

Saffra swallowed. “Yeah. I got…[Pupil of the Magus Prime].”

 Lady Vivi was silent for a long moment. “Does that…have some particular meaning?”

“I was going to ask you that.”

The two of them stared at each other.

Saffra desperately tried to not make the logical connection that if Magus Prime wasn’t, as she’d hoped, some title Lady Vivi was familiar with, one dragons used, then it might mean exactly what it said.

Or maybe her memory problems were to blame? Saffra happily seized that excuse.

“I see.” Lady Vivi’s eyes drifted away, and, to Saffra’s horror, she deflected. “Did you get a useful skill to accompany it?”

Saffra felt faint. She tried to ignore the revealing response. “I haven’t checked yet.”

After everything that had happened so far, she was almost afraid to. She wasn’t sure how much more she could handle.

Compared to most classes, mages didn’t get great skills. Not like how warriors might pick up devastating weapon arts on a random level-up that drastically improved their fighting ability. They were expected to learn their own spells.

Still, mages did receive skills, though they were almost always passive bonuses. Something like ‘[Hastened Meditation] - Regenerate mana faster when entering a meditative trance for more than ten minutes.’ That had been her level two-hundred skill, and a common one for Institute mages.

Nervous, she closed out the class notification and scanned the last of the three screens.

***

Skill Earned!

[Cinder and Rime]: Fire-type and frost-type spells refund a small portion of mana on successful casts.

***

She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Which, in retrospect, was an odd reaction to have for the—not underwhelming skill, but totally normal skill, which became underwhelming compared to everything else. [Cinder and Rime] was exactly the sort of ability she would have expected for the extensive efforts she’d put into elemental mastery these past few years. And while greater mana efficiency wasn’t going to drop anyone’s jaws or be worthy of much celebration, it was undoubtedly a useful addition to her adventuring kit. Adventures often ended—or at least were limited—by stamina and mana, and mages were especially vulnerable to resource expenditure over longer trips.

Case in point: that was why this hunting trip would be ending soon. Her mana pool had dwindled to a tiny puddle after so many [Scorchlances], and mana potions—and stamina potions—really weren’t something to go chugging on a whim. A body had limits, and while pushing past them was more than possible, a person should avoid that sort of strain unless they had good reason. Chugging resource potions certainly wasn’t advisable for routine hunting sessions. And insane as this morning had been, it was still ‘routine’.

“You look relieved,” Vivi said curiously. “Something good?”

“Nope!” Saffra realized she sounded too cheerful about that. She cleared her throat. “Just, um, a basic fire-and-ice elemental affinity. Refunds a small portion of mana. Nothing crazy, though the name is interesting. [Cinder and Rime]. Haven’t heard of that one before.”

“Does the Institute keep a record of known skills?”

“Basic ones. There are better encyclopedias out there probably, with rarer skills too, but I’ve never gotten my hands on one.”

“Interesting. Mana efficiency does sound like a useful addition.”

“Yep.” But more importantly, the skill didn’t make her rethink her entire life.

Saffra wondered what Vivi’s skills were. What kinds of passive bonuses, or better, did mages above level 1500 receive?

“You’re running low on mana?” Lady Vivi asked.

“I could manage a few more casts, but yeah. I have the mana potion, if you want to keep going?”

“Better to recover naturally,” she dismissed. “There’s no rush. We can continue tomorrow. There’s something I need your help experimenting with before we call it quits, though.”

Saffra blinked. Something Vivi needed her help with? Sure, Saffra could provide basic information to patch over those memory issues of hers, but this sounded like something else. What sort of aid could she, a level-four-hundred mage, provide Lady Vivi?

The immortal mage held a hand up, and a book with a silver symbol of a black sun appeared in it.

“I need to test how this codex works.”

Almost by reflex, Saffra [Inspected] the item. Lady Vivi swatted the skill away. It fizzled and responded with a screen that read ‘Inspection Failed’.

“I would prefer that you didn’t,” Lady Vivi said. “Sorry.”

Saffra flushed. “N-no. My bad. I checked by instinct.” The rudeness was entirely her own. Trying to read the details of someone’s possessions was something a person should ask to do first, and it was totally normal for her prying request to be shot down. “What does it do?”

“In short, it’s a secondary mana pool, and a way to share mana between mages.”

Saying it so casually almost primed Saffra to think that the effect was nothing special, but then she parsed the words.

She stared at the woman. “That’s possible?”

“It’s a unique artifact, even by my understanding.” She held the book out. “It’s safe; I’m certain of it. Can you try using it for me?”