Chapter 7: Review

After finishing these chores, Shao Ke took out a new candle to replace the old one, then leaned against the table and began reading. Of course, the book he was reading now wasn’t some novel from his previous life—at least, the novels in this otherworld weren’t particularly interesting, mostly consisting of love stories about knights rescuing princesses. After all, everyone here was just struggling to survive, so for someone who had read a vast number of novels in his past life, these held little appeal.

Currently, Shao Ke was holding a large-format theoretical book titled *The Structure, Construction, and Possible Deconstruction of Magic*. This book, along with the others in his small cabin, was partly brought from the magic academy, but most were purchased through merchants after his arrival, with a small portion copied from the other two mages.

The book he was reading now was written by a legendary-rank mage from the empire tens of thousands of years ago and had since become one of the essential readings for mages. Of course, he wasn’t the only legendary-rank mage to publish works on magical theory and understanding. Once one reached the legendary rank, even if they had no desire to write about magical theory, the empire would ask these powerful individuals to write about their understanding of spells and other materials that could help improve the skills of low-rank mages. Most legendary-rank experts would agree, after which the empire would extensively copy their books so that more mages could read them, and they would even copy works by legendary masters from other empires.

These books were generally obscure and difficult to understand. The copy of *The Structure, Construction, and Possible Deconstruction of Magic* that Shao Ke was reading had been copied in Dragon-tongue, with interpretations and annotations added by mages of successive generations. What was originally a theoretical work of just tens of thousands of words now had hundreds of thousands of notes and commentaries. It was said that the original version of this book was written in Yani’er script, which was even older than the Ancient Magic Tongue, and every line was filled with the legendary mage’s understanding and insights into magic. The original was reportedly kept in the Royal Academy, while the version in circulation now was a copy transcribed in Dragon-tongue thousands of years ago.

In addition, the empire would also copy works by god-tier mages and promote them extensively to improve the quality of mages. Of course, some archmage-rank mages would also write works specifically about their understanding and insights into spells, but the empire generally didn’t promote these, so their circulation was limited. However, most mages sought out precisely these books written by archmage-rank mages. The reason wasn’t that the works of legendary or god-tier mages were inferior, but rather that they were too difficult to comprehend, while the former’s works were relatively easier to understand. Up to now, Shao Ke’s collection didn’t include a single work by an archmage-rank mage, which was undoubtedly a regret. Sometimes Shao Ke wondered, “Why not copy more works by archmage-rank mages?” Later, he learned that transcribing these magical books was extremely time-consuming. With so many works by archmage-rank mages, the empire didn’t have enough personnel to copy them all, and even legendary works weren’t extensively copied.

When one focuses intently on a task, time always flies by silently, leaving no trace to grasp. The beastskin book, over three hundred pages long, contained only tens of thousands of words in its original text, yet Shao Ke had spent most of the night reading just over a dozen pages. The main reason was the sheer volume of annotations on the original text, and combining the two made it even more time-consuming.

The candle on the silver lamp stand had burned down more than halfway. Looking up at the magical timer hanging opposite him, Shao Ke realized it was almost three in the morning. He quickly tidied the items on the table, placed a bookmark, and began his meditation. This was a deep-level meditation primarily aimed at restoring expended energy and mental focus. It shouldn’t last too long, usually maintained for three to four magic hours, enough to match a full night’s sleep for ordinary people. Moreover, most mages used this method to indirectly carve out more time for study and research. However, such meditation couldn’t be practiced continuously for long periods, as it only restored one’s spirit and mental energy and couldn’t alleviate physical fatigue from activity. Therefore, mages typically engaged in normal sleep every four or five days.

Shao Ke’s meditation lasted until seven in the morning. In the north near the Misty Forest, the sky was still dark at this hour, but the residents here had already begun preparing simple breakfasts. Then, around eight o’clock when the sky brightened, the small town would become lively again. Shao Ke washed his face, toasted the cold bread slices over the brazier, and then cooked a small cup of oatmeal for his breakfast.

Although the morning was busy, the mage had everything prepared. First, he took out his spellbook from the bookshelf and began reciting and memorizing the spell incantations, gestures, and meditation pathways he had already transcribed. Although low-rank mages didn’t have the opportunity or ability to transcribe many low-rank or high-rank spells into their spellbooks, and they had long since memorized them thoroughly, most mages still set aside time each day to review the spells they had previously transcribed—both commonly used and rarely used ones. They knew that if they successfully advanced to a higher rank in the future, they might not have the chance to memorize those rarely used low-rank spells again, as new spells would await their experimentation and memorization. After all, no one wanted to lose their life later because of an obscure spell. Such incidents were not unheard of in the historical records of the Blue Feather Empire and occurred from time to time. This was something young mages, including Shao Ke, had to pay attention to. Although he sometimes thought, “I’m a member of the transmigration army, surely I won’t be that unlucky,” he didn’t dare to test that theory.

Through over two years of practical experience, Shao Ke had come to understand some of the things his teachers had taught him. Among them, he learned that mage combat wasn’t what he’d once thought—it wasn’t just about whose spells were more powerful determining the victor. Shao Ke discovered that in combat, having a bit more mental energy or magical power could turn defeat into victory. Moreover, when fighting enemies, especially powerful ones, if the warriors in front couldn’t protect you, you wouldn’t have much time to chant incantations or form complex gestures. If you encountered a magical beast or an enemy mage alone, the only option was to quickly release a spell before the enemy reached you. Thus, among the many low-rank spells, there were always ones suitable for various combat situations.

Shao Ke remembered what the mage instructors often said during his academy days: “Among the hundreds of zero-level spells and first-level spells, there isn’t a single useless spell. It’s just that the spellcaster doesn’t know how to use it or hasn’t encountered or thought of the situation where some of these spells could be applied!”

Memorizing spells in the morning wasn’t particularly difficult for Shao Ke. His spellbook already contained dozens of zero-level spells, but he had only seven or eight first-level spells, and these few first-level spells were copied from the other two mages. As for higher-rank spells, he didn’t have a single one. This wasn’t because Shao Ke was too lazy to copy them. For one, transcribing a spell required at least knowing its incantation, gestures, and meditation pathway.

Additionally, transcribing spells consumed a significant amount of money. Copying a zero-level spell required materials worth thirty Blue Feather gold coins, while a first-level spell cost a hundred Blue Feather gold coins. Moreover, spells of first-rank and above, including first-rank spells, weren’t widely circulated. To copy them, one had to pay to transcribe them in the libraries of the Mage Guild or the Imperial Library, with fees varying according to the spell’s rank: ten Blue Feather gold coins for zero-level spells, thirty for first-level, and a hundred for second-level spells. As for higher-rank spells, Shao Ke wasn’t very familiar with them yet. Of course, this was what the instructors had told him when he first learned about spells.

Besides this, another method was to borrow someone else’s spellbook to copy from, but this was highly unlikely unless there was a special relationship, in which case the other party might allow it. The few first-level spells in Shao Ke’s spellbook were likely passed down through generations of border mages, with each generation helping the next in hopes of successfully advancing in rank.

Another reason was that spells exceeding one’s own rank couldn’t be successfully transcribed. Mages could only transcribe spells of their own rank or lower. Shao Ke was currently a novice mage, equivalent to a first-rank mage, so he could only transcribe first-rank and zero-rank spells. Since the Misty Forest was too remote, neither the Mage Guild nor the Imperial Library had established branches here, and Shao Ke was serving his duty, unable to leave his post to travel thousands of miles to a major city to transcribe spells.

Memorizing spells wasn’t simple, especially for high-rank spells. Many mages needed seven or eight days to initially memorize a third-rank spell accurately, and then they had to review it constantly to avoid accidentally forgetting a gesture. Moreover, practicing spells consumed a great deal of time, which won’t be discussed here for now.

As spell ranks increased, the time required for memorization multiplied. More than once, Shao Ke had complained about why he didn’t have the most basic advantage of other transmigrators: super memory. Was it because he had transmigrated in a muddled state? However, he didn’t complain for long, as his memory noticeably improved with the increase in his mental energy, which kept him from becoming too frustrated.

Shao Ke leaned over the small table, continuously reviewing the spellcasting conditions of those spells. Soon, a magic hour passed, and Shao Ke decided to pause for now and go outside to practice his spells—a habit he had developed since successfully casting his first spell.