Chapter 89: A Day in the Life of a Mage

Joan heard the familiar barking of a dog, opened the door, and stepped out, only to see Jamie leaping toward him. He hurriedly extended his arms to catch the wolf. The mixed-blood winter wolf wagged its tail and whined softly, its fluffy head burrowing into Joan’s embrace as if complaining that its young master had gone out alone without bringing it along.

“Mott!” The gray pouch beast also noticed Joan’s return, abandoned its prey, and ran over with a cheer, scooping Joan up in its arms and spinning him around several times before reluctantly setting him down.

The masked badger, casually tossed aside by Gray, awoke from its stupor. It glanced about anxiously, confirmed the terrifying gray giant wasn’t paying attention, and wriggled its plump hindquarters as it darted into the undergrowth, vanishing in the blink of an eye—a narrow escape, saving its own life.

Joan remained at the cabin in the woods until late at night before bidding Jamie and Gray farewell. Upon returning home, he checked the calendar: it was the seventh day of March. Subtracting the days needed for the journey to Layton Harbor, he would have about half a month to stay at home. After washing up, Joan lay in bed, pondering how best to make use of this free time, and before he knew it, drowsiness overtook him and he slept until dawn.

He sat up in bed, stretched comfortably, and, according to his usual habit, began his morning meditation, preparing his spells for the day.

A first-level wizard normally has only one first-circle spell slot. However, if the wizard’s intelligence attribute is high enough, he gains additional spell slots. Joan’s intelligence had originally been only thirteen. First, the “Tears of the Divine” had raised his intelligence by four points, then the “Spring of Wisdom” had increased it by five more. Now his intelligence attribute stood at an impressive twenty-two—a veritable prodigy for his age and level! This extraordinary intellect granted him two extra first-circle spell slots, which, combined with his original slot, allowed him to prepare three first-circle spells each day. Today, Joan prepared “Greater Mage Hand,” “Magic Missile,” and “Enchanted Weapon.”

Besides these, Joan had already mastered two other first-circle spells: “Identify” and “Lightning Claw.” “Identify” was a ritual spell that required neither prior preparation nor a spell slot. As for “Lightning Claw,” it ordinarily could not be used unless prepared in advance; changing a prepared spell on the fly required fifteen to thirty minutes of focused meditation. The hassle of reallocating spells and slots made it difficult for wizards to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances in battle or on the road. Every morning, wizards agonized over which spells to prepare: the more spells they mastered, the more they were forced to leave behind, and if an urgently needed spell was not prepared, regret—and sometimes even death—could follow. In this respect, the “sorcerer” class, which did not require spell preparation, was far more flexible and adept at handling emergencies, a fact even the most proud of wizards had to admit.

Joan was an exception. In addition to his wizard profession, he possessed the unique class of “Mythic Archmage,” allowing him to use “Mythic Power” to cast any known spell without prior preparation or the need for a spell slot. This meant Joan combined the strengths of both wizard and sorcerer: he could learn new spells like a wizard, and adapt, casting flexibly like a sorcerer. Fully aware of his casting advantages, Joan did not need to dwell much on spell preparation. Aside from his three strictly paired spell slots, he could invoke Mythic Power five times daily, using it to cast spells he had not prepared in advance.

After finishing his spell preparations, Joan got out of bed, dressed, washed up, lit a fire, boiled water, melted butter in a frying pan, sliced a thick slab of ham, and dropped it in to sizzle, filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma.

He brewed a large cup of hot tea, sliced two pieces of black rye bread, added the fried ham to make a simple but delicious sandwich, and sat at his desk to eat and read.

Once his hunger was satisfied, Joan began the day’s work. He opened his backpack and took out the spoils from slaying the Soul-Thief: a “Burning Hand” scroll and two bottles of unidentified magical potion.

He spread the scroll on the desk, opened his spellbook to a blank page, dipped his quill into wizard-special ink mixed with deep-sea squid ink, and carefully transcribed “Burning Hand” into his spellbook, marking it as a topic for his next phase of magical research.

Copying spells was a fundamental skill for all wizards—a task that seemed simple but was, in fact, quite troublesome. Absolute concentration was required; a single letter copied incorrectly would render the entire spell useless, forcing the wizard to start over and wasting both energy and the costly spellbook pages and special ink—especially important for the cash-strapped Joan, who preferred to slow down rather than risk mistakes.

From past experience, Joan knew that even with no errors, it took at least a morning to transcribe a zero-circle spell scroll. For more complex first-circle spell scrolls, even in peak condition, he would need to copy from dawn until late at night to finish. Yet today, his efficiency was astonishing: in less than two hours, he had successfully transcribed the first-circle “Burning Hand” from the scroll into his spellbook.

Joan scrutinized the densely written page of incantations twice, confirming there were no spelling errors before he was satisfied. Even he found it incredible—how had he copied so quickly? After ruminating for a while, Joan realized that the efficiency of transcribing spell incantations was closely tied to a wizard’s intelligence level; his attribute had risen sharply compared to before, and so too had his transcription speed.

With this realization, a relieved smile appeared at the corner of Joan’s lips. He put away the “Burning Hand” scroll and moved the two bottles of magical potion before him. To uncover their mysteries, Joan had two choices: either use the old method, casting “Identify” to analyze their composition and effects, or, as Mimir had suggested, use rune magic to analyze the magic within the potion and deduce its purpose.

If he used “Identify,” Joan would have to pay at least two pearls worth no less than a hundred gold coins each as spell components. He had no pearls on hand and was loath to spend so much on spell materials, so naturally, he chose the second method. Even though he did not fully grasp the arcane secrets of runes and might not succeed in identification, at least it cost nothing to try—there was nothing to lose.