02 — Promoted to Apprentice

As one would expect, the grimoire enumerated the basics of magical training. The gist was as follows:

Step 1: Perceiving Magic

In order to use magic, a person would first have to be aware of the magical energy within them. If one couldn’t do that much, the book spared no shame in demanding that the reader reconsider where their talents truly lie... Harsh.

Step 2: Manipulating Magic

Assuming success in sensing one’s magic, learning to move it—in other words, Magic Handling—came next. For many, the text explained, this was a stumbling block, and for some, it took all their magic to simply manage this much, but it encouraged patience and perseverance. Near the end, it explained that master mages could wield the same magic as a beginner at a fifth of the cost. It also instructed one to continue practicing these basics for the rest of one’s life.

This made sense, of course. The lower your magic consumption, the more high-level magic you would be able to cast.

Step 3: Controlling Magic

After learning to perceive and manipulate magic came the ability to affect it beyond the body (i.e. Magic Control). Once a person learned this, spells weren’t far off, but a level of skill was involved. Without sufficient control, others could interfere with your magic to cause mayhem.

Step 4

“Cast level one spells of your associated affinity,” it read.

Casting a spell caused magic to leave the body, evidently, and succeeding in doing so increased your skill level. Those unable to successfully cast a spell after repeated attempts were sent right back to step one.

“If still you do not succeed, your talent is naught, with forfeit being your only option.”

The moment my eyes fell on those words, an intense desire to throw the book across the room welled up inside of me. After all that careful, meticulous explanation, I couldn’t help but expect better than an author who suddenly gave up on people right at the end.

Consideration for others’ respective starting lines likely played little part in the writing of this book, so maybe its lack of mercy for late bloomers made sense, but even so, how ruthless could you be? Some kid could read it and have their confidence utterly crushed, and then what? What’s more, none of its pages explained how to practice the sensing or manipulating of magic in any sort of detail, despite how vital they supposedly were. Still, this grimoire belonged to the guild, so I couldn’t just vent my frustration on it. I calmed myself and moved on to reading some of the points that were unrelated to training.

Magic is a phenomenon brought about by the offering—the casting—of one’s energy to the Galdardian deity Crya, through which a mental image is brought forth in reality.

By implanting said image clearly into one’s magic, one’s control will improve. Additionally, as one’s magical understanding grows, so, too, can one’s casting be abbreviated, or even culled entirely.

“This magical theory reads a lot like religion with all the Galdardia and ‘offering to deities’ talk. Well, God is real, clearly, so might as well give it a shot.” I took a deep breath and focused. “Okay, here goes. Oh, Lord, receive my energy and mend this wound. Heal!”

I solidified an image of a regenerating wound and chanted the spell with all I had...to no avail. I did feel a sensation like something leaving my body, but no magic was triggered.

“I guess that’s how it goes when you’re not a prodigy or a cheater,” I rationalized to myself.

With a prayer to Assess Mastery, I opened the status screen to verify my lack of progress and found a new skill: Holy Magic 0 at 5/1000.

“Phew, so I’m doing it right. Looks like I just need to do this two hundred more times. At least there’s an end in sight; otherwise, it’d wear me down for sure. Now, let’s test some stuff out...”

This time, I tried casting without a mental image. My mastery increased by exactly zero.

“Yeah, so you’ve definitely got to have the image in your mind.”

Seeing my MP at 40/50 led me to conclude that one Heal would consume five MP.

“I do wonder how much HP the target recovers, but I should get a feel for what this magic exhaustion is first.”

I cast the remaining eight Heals that were left to me, with a proper vision in my head as before. After the final cast, my MP showed a single point remaining from natural recovery, but the exhaustion hit me all the same. Intense dizziness and a splitting headache robbed me of my ability to stand.

Even after I had recovered and was able to stand again, I still couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. Later, once my headache had faded and I could finally relax, I opened the status screen to check my MP, which now sat at 5/50.

“I can’t keep this up. At this rate, time’s the only thing that’ll be progressing.”

I stared up at the ceiling and thought things over. According to the grimoire, this downtime of fatigue was best used for Magic Handling and Magic Control, but my current state was less than ideal for practicing. I could reasonably assume the enervation started up once I dropped below ten percent of my total magic.

“The higher your Magic Handling and Magic Control, the less magic you eventually end up using, so I think I’ll focus on those for now.”

And so I meditated and began the process of trial-and-error: sensing magic, controlling it, in search of greater recovery methods. How much time passed, I couldn’t say. I tirelessly studied and practiced, over and over, and right when I was on the verge of magical exhaustion, three knocks came at my door.

“Come in,” I managed to croak.

“Oh, taking a break?” The receptionist entered, looking concerned by my condition and carrying food with her. “Wow, you’re pale as a ghost. Are you okay?”

“Yes, somehow. Also, I’m sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I’m Luciel, and I’m currently experiencing magical fatigue, so please, worry not.”

“You’re awfully diligent for your age,” she laughed. “My name’s Kururu. Here, eating should help you recover some of your magic.” She placed a tray with my meal on the table.

“Thank you for going through the trouble.”

“It’s nothing. Just leave the dishes outside your room when you’re finished. And one more thing, don’t overstrain yourself. We can’t have healers collapsing in our own guild.”

I laughed. “You make a good point. I’ve almost got the hang of this, though, so I’m going to keep it up. With appropriate breaks, of course.”

“Well, you can still speak, so you’ll probably be fine. Make sure you sleep, too, okay? It’ll help you recuperate.”

“Thank you for the advice, Kururu.”

She responded with a giggle, then left the room.

The food she had brought was a flavorless vegetable soup with a side of equally flavorless bread, but it did its job just fine and filled my stomach while doubling as a decent break.

Afterwards, I resumed my training. I toiled away, casting spells without any issues for some time, except once when I accidentally cast one too many. My sapped magic quickly shrank my motivation to nonexistence, so I finally called it quits for the day.

I had no idea how long I’d slept. The unfamiliar ceiling I awoke to reaffirmed the reality that I had been reincarnated, much to my disappointment. But wallowing never helped anyone. At businessman-like speeds, I reset myself and put my best foot forward towards the task at hand.

“Your life should be gone right now. If you work hard, you could have an even better one than before. Come on, you can do it!” I encouraged myself.

With renewed vigor, I reopened the grimoire, but not before noticing that the room had never dimmed.

“I wonder what keeps this room at a constant level of lighting,” I mumbled. “Maybe the stonework is magic, or there’s some kind of magical tool powering it. I should ask when I get the chance.”

I used the time before breakfast to continue my painstaking training, casting spells right up to the line of exhaustion, then exercising my Magic Control. However, breakfast never came. I checked the time and saw that it was just about sunrise. My rejuvenated youth, it would seem, came bundled with the appropriate appetite. Nevertheless, my training went on.

Though I wasn’t aware of it just then, this second day brought even greater focus. Centering myself on magic in this cramped space felt like it did wonders for my grasp of it all. Suspecting that something inside me had changed, I used Assess Mastery and found all sorts of new skill improvements.

“Wow, those really exploded. Working towards a goal makes it so much more worthwhile. And seeing the results is pretty fulfilling, too.”

Knowing that my efforts, my pains, were actually paying off sent my motivation soaring. People work harder with clear aspirations, as opposed to constant uncertainty over when or whether it will even pay off. It was the same in my past life’s work. And throughout all of this, I made other discoveries as well, like how meditating improves the Meditation, Focus, and Magic Recovery skills.

My time here was a great opportunity to build up as many skills as possible and to test things out along the way. For example, in an attempt to boost Parallel Thinking I tried air drumming and playing rock-paper-scissors with myself, but neither worked. Tongue-twisters would boost Speed Casting, though, so I mentally made note of the most effective outcomes. This cycle of successes and failures fueled my experimentation.

“I’m just a plain old, average guy,” I murmured. “It’s amazing how heroes in stories can overcome just about anything, but as long as I’m in here and my efforts are being rewarded, my spirit will never break.”

My training continued.

“I’ve brought food.”

A new girl carrying my meal arrived in the middle of some stretches I was doing for a change of pace. She was beautiful, with refined chestnut hair that glasses would well suit.

“Oh, thank you.” This did nothing to quell the beating in my chest.

“Of course. Hang in there, okay?”

“Um, could I ask a question?” If ever there was a time, it was now. She tilted her head inquisitively. “So, how many times a day is food brought? There’s no clock in here, and I’d like to have a general handle on the time of day.”

“Twice a day. At six o’clock in the morning and six at night.”

“I see. Would you mind answering any other questions I come up with?”

“Not at all. Feel free to ask any time.” She placed my food on the table before leaving.

“And...of course I forgot to ask her name. But holy cow, is everyone that lives in this world insanely attractive? Not sure how saying that helps me, though, so I’ll just eat my food and stop thinking about all that.”

Tonight would be the same as the last.

That evening, Kururu brought my food again. Then, on the third day before breakfast, my two hundred-something cast of Heal emitted a pale light from my hands. It soon dissipated, but I knew without a doubt that I had successfully managed healing magic.

“Nice! I bet no one expected me to get the hang of it this quickly. I knew all that hard work wasn’t for nothing.” I couldn’t wait to see what sort of flattery everyone would greet me with. “I need to thank Lumina, and Kururu, too.”

The high probability that today would be the day I left this wonderfully safe and productive space, healing in hand, saddened me to an extent. The fear I’d felt when I bumped into those adventurers was not easily forgotten. Jumping head first into a world where such people existed was just asking for trouble.

Anxiety swirled around inside me.

“Maybe I should ask the receptionists if I can stay here until I find a place to work? Scratch that, I’d like to get my Holy Magic up to at least level two.”

I made my decision. I would impose upon the Healer’s Guild and put everything I had into training.

Breakfast today was brought not by Kururu, but the beautiful chestnut-haired girl. Monica, Kururu had said her name was. Which was all well and good, but every time she arrived I was doubled over from magical exhaustion, so my chances to get to know her were rather slim.

This didn’t dampen my spirits, though. Before anything else, including romance and work, the goal of not dying took precedence. My training proceeded with that as my motto. As proof of its success, Assess Mastery reported that I’d successfully acquired the Meditation, Focus, and Magic Recovery skills after much labor.

Then, one week after my arrival at this sanctuary, the time came for me to emerge from my cave. At the receptionist’s desk stood Monica.

“Monica, I’ve finally got Holy Magic down!” I declared.

“Congratulations, Mister Luciel. Can I borrow your card for a moment?”

I handed it over as requested and she set about the formalities with a smile. I’d learned earlier that the whole “mister,” “miss” thing the guild did was because, to them, the healers were their patrons. Aside from how Kururu spoke to me, which was a special case, the staff referring to healers this way was basic guild etiquette.

I took my card back from Monica, which now had Holy Magic, Meditation, Focus, and Magic Recovery listed as skills.

“Congratulations again. You’ve worked hard, I see.” She grinned. “Now, that will be one silver.”

Er, this costs money?

On second thought, one silver for a week’s stay in a private room was a pretty good deal, so I paid up with a quiet sigh of relief that I actually had the money on hand.

“So, what should I do now? Kururu doesn’t seem to be here. Should I try looking for Miss Lumina?”

“Oh, my, you were the one Miss Lumina brought? My deepest apologies, this silver is yours.” She returned the coin. “Miss Lumina requested that we reserve a room for you, to be used for ten days of magic training, so there will be no charge.”

“Really? She did? She looks so young but she must carry quite a bit of weight around here.”

“She most certainly does. After all, she’s the captain of the Church’s newly formed female paladin regiment.”

What good fortune it must have been, then, for me to happen upon such an elegant and delicate-looking yet capable and distinguished person when I first arrived at the city gates. Monster Luck sure was putting in its share of work. I’d better start calling it Monsieur Luck at this point.

At any rate, Monica said the room was mine for ten days, courtesy of Lumina. From there, I put on my business face. “So, you can lend me the room for three more days, correct?”

“That’s right, if that’s what you wish. The guild has no problem offering help to someone as dedicated as you.”

With that, Monica concluded our negotiation, if you could call it that, with a smile. Her willingness to accommodate made me extremely happy, but my future was still as empty as blank paper. I wanted to have them introduce me to a clinic, but before any of that, I realized that I knew very little about the guild itself, and thought I should take the opportunity to ask about it in detail.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. By the way, I didn’t get a chance to ask when I first registered, but I’m a little unclear about exactly what the Healer’s Guild does, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a bit of background.”

“Oh? No, not at all. The Healer’s Guild is an organization formed for the sole purpose of healing others. It’s organized into a ten rank system based on your Holy Magic skill, which, in increasing order, includes ranks G, F, E, D, C, B, A, AA, AAA, and S,” she explained. “The common practice is to build up your skills and expertise at a clinic in town, and many go on to start their own clinics from there. On the rare occasion where guild transfer requests are received, the healer in question may choose to accept and move, or decline.

“Furthermore,” she continued, “if a healer is unable to find a clinic on their own, the guild will act as an intermediary, so you can rest easy on that point. We also provide financial support to those seeking to set up their own independent practices, so please come by for advice if you’re ever looking to do the same.”

Monica outlined the main points for me in a lengthy but easily understood explanation without faltering. I went ahead and used the chance to ask something else that had been on my mind.

“Thank you for such a great explanation. Also, is it possible to register with both the Healer’s Guild and the Adventurer’s Guild?”

“It is indeed, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” she said. “Healers aren’t well suited to acquiring attack-based skills, and splitting off to a new job requires the appropriate experience to increase the level of that job. Additionally, you must be level six or above in a particular trade before you can change or take on multiple positions, meaning that because healers gain experience by healing, they will have a much harder time leveling up in combat-based jobs without having trained in the use of related skills.”

Wow, she really has all this down pat.

“But once your level does go up, you should be able to do more, right?”

“Yes, but progressing as an adventurer requires defeating monsters to increase your overall level, which I think would be quite difficult for a healer to manage.”

Hmm, it didn’t sound like putting myself in that sort of danger would teach me much about defending myself from other adventurers.

“I see. So can a healer make a living with just the Heal spell?”

“I can’t speak to your standards, so that’s hard for me to judge, but based on the going rate for healing, I might put one silver per cast at a fair price.”

“A whole silver?!” I shouted. If that and my god-given knowledge were true, this job seriously had it made.

Monica smiled at my shock and continued. “Just to be clear, the guild collects dues from all its members, based on rank. To maintain the rank of G, a yearly amount of twelve silver pieces must be paid. Please be aware that failure to pay means you will be found in violation of the guild’s terms and banned from practicing healing.”

So even a street healer would need to be registered with the guild? Or was this all under the assumption that one would be working at a clinic? It was hard to say.

Monica carried on with her explanation. She told me that with each promotion in rank, my yearly dues would increase by another twelve silver, but grimoires with more powerful healing magic could be bought for less at higher ranks. She also mentioned that these superior spells could cover a year’s worth of taxes in a single cast, which I took with a grain of salt.

“Of course, some people reach the limits of their abilities and may find themselves unable to turn a profit, even when working at a clinic,” she added.

I sensed a hint of caution in her words. These profitless healers sounded awfully similar to the corporate drone archetype.

“One last thing, and I hesitate to tell this to a new healer like you, but the guild currently holds no power over the actions of its members or clinics.”

“What do you mean?”

“When clinics or healers charge unlawful prices or find themselves in conflict too often, the guild’s head branch dispatches personnel. In the event that the practice is judged to be corrupt, the guild may revoke that clinic’s license.” She paused for a moment, then went on. “Unfortunately, their schemes have become so sophisticated as of late that we cannot act and they are going unpunished.”

“Can the laws not be revised?” I asked.

“Until the head branch acts, we can do nothing, no matter how many petitions we send.”

“That certainly sounds like a headache. In that case, let me promise you this: I will never become a crooked healer.”

“You’d better not,” she giggled.

After thanking her for her time, I paid a silver for the month’s dues, steeled myself for what lay ahead, and left for the streets of Merratoni.