Mastering Orange Magic

After finishing his meal, Oliver didn’t head to the training grounds as usual. Instead, he decided to take a stroll outside the academy. His thoughts were occupied with planning his next steps in learning magic.

At this point, he had mastered six Red-level spells, solidifying his position as an apprentice-level magician. However, becoming a fully-fledged mage required more: mastering nine Red spells and three Orange spells.

“Learning an Orange-level spell will deepen my understanding of magic. If I can get proficient with one, the Red spells should feel much easier afterward…” Oliver resolved to attempt learning an Orange spell first to test his limits.

“If I become a true mage, even Lord Avery will have to treat me with respect,” he thought with a flicker of ambition. As for his former oppressors, like the steward Walter who once tried to sell him into slavery—well, they wouldn’t dare approach him now.

As a core apprentice of the academy, Oliver had the authority to dismiss someone like Walter with a single word. But he couldn’t shake off the lingering feeling that people like Walter weren’t the type to let things go. It was as though a sword had been hanging over his head, ready to fall at any moment.

Yet now, as a core apprentice, those worries were beginning to dissipate.

Lost in these thoughts, Oliver found himself on a bustling street just outside the academy. He stepped into a tailor shop and browsed through the options before selecting a fine roll of cotton fabric.

Afterward, he visited a few other shops, purchasing alchemical ingredients, premium honey, and a bottle of exquisite wine. These weren’t for personal indulgence but gifts for Professor Arcanus and senior students like Hector—a gesture of gratitude for the many gifts they had given him when he joined.

Though the value of his gifts didn’t match theirs, they represented his sincere appreciation. Oliver promised himself that one day, he’d be able to reciprocate in full. His burgeoning magical abilities, bolstered by his mana core and recent capture of a Shatterbeast, would soon enable him to venture deeper into the forest. There, he was confident he’d find rare treasures and elevate his income further.

With his shopping complete, Oliver returned to the academy and headed to the training grounds to resume practicing magic.

As he prepared to cast, his attention was drawn to someone nearby: Griffin, the senior students.

The day before, when James and Deniel were being bullied, Griffin had turned a blind eye and walked away. Though he wasn’t punished for it, Professor Arcanus had reprimanded him harshly, leaving a sour impression that would likely hinder his chances of becoming a core apprentice.

Now, Griffin was stealing glances at Oliver, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. It was hard for him to stomach that a newcomer, a farmer’s son no less, had already surpassed him by becoming a core apprentice.

But Griffin stayed silent, focusing on his own magic practice.

“Good afternoon, Senior Stark,” came an unfamiliar voice.

Oliver turned to see Aiden Avery addressing him. The son of Lord Avery, Aiden held considerable sway among the academy’s noble students.

Though older and more experienced, Aiden was technically outranked by Oliver’s new status. He could have ignored Oliver entirely, but instead, he approached with genuine respect.

This act did not go unnoticed. Many of the other noble students, though clearly reluctant, followed suit, greeting Oliver with warm enthusiasm.

The sudden change in attitude was striking. Oliver couldn’t help but feel a mix of amusement and satisfaction at the reversal. The same nobles who once sneered at him were now vying for his attention.

“Oliver’s like a star now!”“So cool! I want to be like him one day!”

In a corner of the training ground, James and Deniel watched the scene with awe and a hint of melancholy. The gap between their lives and Oliver’s seemed wider than ever. Dressed in rough linen clothes, they couldn’t help but feel out of place among the academy’s elite.

But Oliver didn’t let his new status create a divide. After greeting the nobles, he walked over to his old friends, smiling warmly. He practiced alongside them as he always had, even offering tips on their magic techniques.

The gesture dissolved any lingering tension, and the three of them fell back into their old camaraderie.

Later, as the training progressed, Oliver flipped through a booklet of spells given to him by Professor Arcanus. Among the seven Orange-level spells listed, one caught his eye: Stone Storm.

Red-level earth magic allowed the caster to summon a single stone spike—a powerful attack in its own right. But Stone Storm promised to summon a whirlwind of rocks, a devastating spell whose very name evoked destruction.

The leap in power was staggering, but so was the complexity. After an hour of practice, Oliver had yet to succeed even once.

“Struggling with an Orange spell, huh?”

Oliver looked up to see Hector, one of the senior apprentices, smiling knowingly.

“Professor Arcanus did say you might be better suited to knightly skills. Perhaps you should try those first?” Hector suggested.

As a newly minted mage himself, Hector knew firsthand how grueling the transition to Orange-level magic could be.

“I’d like to keep trying,” Oliver replied, his determination unwavering.

“Fair enough. But you’d have an easier time if you had a wand or staff,” Hector said. “It makes controlling and channeling magic far more manageable.”

A wand(staff), however, was a luxury. The price for even a basic one started at ten gold coins—a sum far beyond Oliver’s current means.