Chapter 142 The Way of Books Requires Transcription

The reappearance of the silver light made Shaoke even more confident about his future promotion speed. He believed that with the help of this silver light, he could be like those truly talented mages, successfully becoming a Fourth Tier Mage within a dozen years, or even a decade. Of course, these were just his thoughts for now, with the prerequisite being that he could successfully survive on the battlefield.

After adjusting his study plan for the upcoming period, he meditated for a while, sinking deep into his meditation to carefully observe the silver light. Finally, contentedly, he lay on the bed and quietly fell asleep, following the unique breathing method of mages.

The days slipped by amidst his busy completion of his studies. One morning, just after finishing breakfast and about to continue his studies, a messenger from the military once again brought him new news.

Taking the scroll handed by the messenger mage, Shaoke felt a trace of unease. He had already guessed what the scroll was about. Once the messenger was gone, Shaoke hesitated for a moment but finally opened the scroll. As he had initially thought, the military department was ordering these Third Tier Mages to go and learn Third-level Spells, along with other knowledge that Third Tier Mages should master.

Taking a deep breath, Shaoke quickly cast a verification spell on the scroll. Seeing the military department's seal quietly floating in the air, he knew he would have to leave Mage Roman for a period of time.

Carefully tying the scroll with a silk ribbon and placing it in the box containing military orders, Shaoke began writing a letter to Mage Roman, detailing what had happened and hoping she would forgive him for not being able to accompany her at the tavern for a while. Finally, imprinting his Mental Imprint on the letter, Shaoke decided to ask Mage Roland to deliver this temporary letter to Mage Roman. He was somewhat worried he might not return that night. Of course, all these speculations were written in the letter.

When Mage Roland, looking astonished, received the letter Shaoke entrusted to him, he said somewhat enviously, "I envy you. If possible, I'd like to go copy some Third-level Spells now." He then added, "Everything about you makes me envious now. Free, unique, special-class spells from the military department. I hope you can copy more spells this time."

Shaoke sighed inwardly. He knew that although Mage Roland was aware of his joining the Death Mage Corps, he didn't understand the price he would have to pay. "Do you want to go copy those Third-level Spells now? If your mental power or mana can withstand the strain of deciphering them, I don't think anyone would stop you after you pay the money." After reiterating the entrustment of the letter, hoping he could deliver it to Mage Roman that evening, Shaoke left, heading towards the courtyard where the military department was located.

Upon reaching the large building, Shaoke casually found a seat and sat down. By then, the room was already filled with chairs, occupied by nearly a hundred newly promoted Third Tier Mages dressed similarly to Shaoke. As time passed, more and more mages filled the room. When all several hundred chairs were occupied, the Seventh Tier Mage, who had been sitting with his eyes closed in contemplation, stood up and signaled for the surrounding mages to listen.

"Young mages, no! Death Mages, you are now members of the Death Mage Corps. I think I should address you as Death Mages." The Seventh Tier Mage waved his staff lightly and raised his voice. "Today, just today, you will face a major choice in your lives. This choice may bring you good fortune or lead you to death. Of course, you have half a year to choose."

At this point, the Seventh Tier Mage picked up a thick stack of papers filled with writing from the table. "Your choice is to select enough, suitable Third-level Spells for yourselves within the next six months. I believe you will consider your choices carefully. After all, the more spells you master, the lower your proficiency with each spell will be." He then added, "Don't rush to copy those Third-level Spells. I think within six months, you will have ample time to review the descriptions of those spells and choose the ones you like best."

After saying this, the Seventh Tier Mage paused. Seeing that the hundreds of Third Tier Mages had no objections, he waved his staff and cast a spell similar to a message-delivery spell. The spell manifested as a mass of black mist. Under the Seventh Tier Mage's control, the mist quickly transformed into dozens of black threads, piercing through the walls of the building and disappearing.

Shortly after, the room where the mages were gathered experienced a slight tremor, which then vanished. However, Shaoke still keenly sensed that the tremor originated beneath their feet. Seeing the Seventh Tier Mage remain calm, he, like the other mages, relaxed. He didn't believe anyone would dare to cast an attack spell here.

The Seventh Tier Mage seemed somewhat dissatisfied with Shaoke and the others' reaction but said nothing, merely frowning slightly. He then continued, "In a moment, take your assigned materials and go learn your spells. Remember, choose your spells well. After all, the short two-year adaptation period simply won't allow you to proficiently master a large number of Third-level Spells." After speaking, he turned and cast another spell—again, a mass of black mist. This mist, however, remained cohesive and slowly merged into a wall. Subsequently, a dark passage, just wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side, appeared before the mages.

"Follow this passage. There will be mages inside to receive you. They will take you to the place where you'll learn the spells." The Seventh Tier Mage then began reading from the list of names in his hand, calling out the mages one by one. Upon hearing their names, the mages, following his command, received their materials and entered the narrow, dark passage.

As the Seventh Tier Mage distributed the materials, it was soon Shaoke's turn. Taking the materials handed to him, he followed the mage ahead into the passage.

The passage sloped gradually downward and was not as narrow as it appeared from the outside. As Shaoke walked, he observed that the passage could actually accommodate five people walking abreast. However, the mages maintained a single-file order, cautiously advancing by the dim light of crystal lamps on both sides.

After walking for about half a magic hour, Shaoke's eyes were met by a stone cavern much larger than the room used as a meeting hall. The stone walls were hung with numerous crystal lamps, illuminating the entire cavern brightly. The mages ahead had also stopped here. On a slightly raised stone platform stood a mage dressed similarly to them. Shaoke couldn't discern his specific tier, but from the cluster of green flame burning on the staff in his hand, Shaoke recognized his identity—a mage belonging to the Death Mage Corps.

After a while longer, the mage on the stone platform, seeing no more mages arriving, said in a low voice, "Ignite the flames on your staffs. I hope you can maintain these flames until you reach the destination. I don't think this is too difficult for you. This is the rule of the Mage Corps." After speaking, he abruptly jumped off the platform and led Shaoke and the others towards another stone cavern opposite, without looking back.

Most of the mages paused for a moment, hesitating whether to follow the instruction, when some mages already began chanting incantations as instructed, quickly igniting the flames on their staffs. Shaoke was among them. However, he had inserted his staff into the pouch sewn for him by the female mage on his back, rather than carrying it like the other mages. After doing this, he followed the guiding mage towards the unknown place with the flaming staff on his back.

The hesitant mages, seeing others follow the instruction, also quickly ignited the green flames on their staffs, using their mental power and mana to sustain the combustion.

Along the way, there were no more crystal lamps illuminating the passage. They relied entirely on the greenish flames on their staffs to maintain visibility for their advance. However, Shaoke noticed that the stone walls were lined with ample crystal lamps. It seemed, as the mage had said, this was merely a rule of the Death Mage Corps.

The passage hardly changed direction, extending diagonally downward all the way. As they progressed, Shaoke gradually sensed increasingly powerful spell fluctuations within the passage. It appeared the Death Mage Corps had laid numerous magical traps in the passage to prevent enemy attacks or handle unexpected situations.

After walking for nearly a full magic hour, Shaoke and the others entered another enormous room. The sudden brightness caused a brief commotion among the mages before they adapted.

In the center was still a raised stone platform, with several mages cloaked in robes standing on it. After all of Shaoke's group had entered, one mage shouted loudly, "For the upcoming period, you may only leave here after you have copied enough spells or when the time limit is reached. You are not permitted to leave at any other time. I believe you are in no position to disobey this order." The mage then added, "You may rest here for a while. I hope you can enter the Death Mage Corps' headquarters in your peak condition." He then signaled for the mages to stop maintaining the flames and begin recovering from the consumption during the journey.

Upon hearing the mage's command, Shaoke and the others almost simultaneously sat on the ground, ceased maintaining the flames on their staffs, and began meditating to recover from their recent expenditure.