Failed magic test
Hariot took out his mana once more as he heard a soft ruffling of leaves somewhat nearby while shifting his eyes in said sound's direction.
But what he saw was far to small to be something of actual threat to him, so he retrieved his planned donation of mana, learning of the charity's corruption due to sending a Beyklir to him instead of a Pavis Lupus.
He couldn't refrain from frowning- Well, actually he could, but it wouldn't do any damage to anyways- It would just be a waste to use mana for a Beyklir of all things.
'Why are they even slightly nervous?' He thought, confounded, while drawing his sword 'It's a Beyklir, they're the weakest of the weak, but a step up from a rat- Is my standard that far detached from others?'
He took a piece of mana out of his mana pool, and used the free space that opened up to siphon his mana regen out into a ball of mana.
He had actually never killed a Beyklir with magic, thinking it far to wasteful, but- Eh, he needed to show off his magic a slight bit.
This extremely small amount of mana burst out of his chest and arched, ending up infront of his upwards pointing index finger.
It was a miniscule amount, but it would be enough.
He compressed it a good amount without him having to put in any effort, roughly at 1:7.5, anchored it to his index finger, and then aimed it at the Beyklir which had just noticed them.
He dissolved the anchor, pushed in some mental energy, manifested it, and then turned it into a spell after firing it out as to allow it to get a reasonable distance from him instead of being confined to his presence.
It pierced through the insignificant creature's side, doing a good bit of damage, and seemingly a lot of pain too.
Hariot was suprised at the result, who would've know that a Beyklir was so much easier to hurt than a tree? He was really overestimating Beyklir, but now that Hariot had learnt his lesson, he would now correctly estimate Beyklir as extremely weak.
He seperated a chunk of mana from one of his rings, and shot it out at a 1:8 ratio as a somewhat thin bolt, which completely passed through the shocked and- probably- in pain beyklir's skull.
Seeing that this act had finally put this originally alive carcass into the grave, Hariot sighed slightly and started to refill his stores, the sacrifices he made for his plans...
He didn't even get any new stars!
He couldn't help but pity himself comically because he was bored 'Boohoo, woh is me, my life is so bad.' Even Hariot needed some form of entertainment, however low his needs may be.
He looked around, hoping for some Pavis Lupus, a bit because their eyes are worth some coin, and more because he wanted some good mastery gains.
But there were none, there was only one small pack of the things around.
Those thigh high Lupus with 2 rows of teeth eluded him the entire day, as the sun crossed the sky, it's angry mother- The moon- came up from the horizon with her slipper, but her son had already passed the corner.
And soon after, Hariot and the gang was back on the cart with filled with a few bags of beyklir teeth and gallbladders. Apperantly their teeth held some value in... Something.
Hariot held no clue as to what, but did it really matter, the proctor was going to sell it anyways, not him.
Though he would certainly investigate once he got some free time.
The proctor signalled for some of his associates to pick up the bags, as if this had happened countless times. Meaning he had probably been using this test as an excuse for some free labor...
Though he was slightly salty, he also had to give the guy props mentally, even if he kept the same neutral- Placid- smile on his face the entire time.
"Come to the mages' guild tomorrow, you'll know the results over there." He said as he bid him and the others adieu, leaving them on the street.
Hariot scatched his chin and went back to the inn he was currently living in, slightly dissapointed at the current landscape of mastery. It had platued for an entire day!
-And he had litterally nothing else to do really, so it was a done deal he was first going to push all that compressed mana to improving his conduit, and then see if he'd sleep for the day.
-----
Beyern stood infront of the receptionist with a small, dissapointed, frown while inspecting the card he was given.
It had his fake name, fake class that he had given the proctor- He knew he could trust the guy to rat our his lies- A little symbol of the Quanta church, and his rank; Novice, in a cool font too.
It was kind of... how would one say this... Underwhelming. There was no picture- And he knew magic existed for that- No kind of way to identify him.
'It would've been so much easier to just make a fake card.' He thought, looking down on the mages' guild. But then he thought of where he even heard that fun fact about magic photography from...
'Simmons talked about it off-handedly while bragging about his journeyman rank, showing off his guild card which held a picture of him from when he was younger... Oh, am I really that dumb?'
Beyern was honestly beffuddled by his previous oversight, though he did not show it while stowing his new way to avoid suspicion on his class 'It's obvious that the picture and other security features only come up at higher ranks, it litterally just happened from the beginner wooden token to the novice card.'
Beyern instantly shrugged off the miniscule amount of shame, and asked to keep up appearances "As a novice, I get to know some cool info or something, right?"
"You're allowed to read the pamphlet for novices, sir." The newly met receptionist stated, Beyern was honestly suprised by their uniformity, but who knows? Might be some magic mind-control or something- Or it was just training.
"Oh, then give me that." He said as if slightly absent from the conversation.
The receptionist seemed to go through a drawer and take out one pamphlet of the many, and handed it to him.
Beyern opened it up, and was shocked at one line 'Experts say there with be no centurion war.'- After which he scoffed at it, the centurion war was litterally made by the strings of fate, there was no way- "Hey, quick question, on what basis does this thing say there's not going to be a centurion war?"
"I don't know, I'm not allowed to read anything above the novice pamphlet, magic contracts are a staple of the mages' guild. If you wish to know more, you'll need to rank up."
Beyern couldn't help but frown, he realized what this was. It was bait, bait for losers that couldn't accept not knowing more- Quite a bit like him, though not that close- Into doing a bunch of quests, pouring an unreasonable amount of money in the form of commission in the process.
He sighed and quickly poured over the words, finding nothing of interest- In comparison to the large claim about the centurion war.
He went to put it into his bag, but was stopped by the receptionist "Hey, paper isn't free, you can't take that with you; Or... Do you feel like paying a bronze for it?"
"On second thought, I have made the decision to return it to the mages' guild, we would not want their great generosity to go around punished," He said with a small smile with fake sweetness while putting the pamplet on the counter "Have a great day."
He walked away, and frowned- He didn't have any plans for the centurion war yet, since it was like 11 years off from now, but it would honestly be problematic for the future.
But luckily, he had plans to do as the guild wished anyways- 'Shit, I didn't go and read the books in the book repository... I can do I later, I'll just have to come around tommorow.'
Beyern kept a watchful gaze and his money at all times, and kept his muscles ready to stop anyone from stealing his belongings- Like always.
He was obviously building up his mana stores after an hour or two of enhancing his mana circuit, right now it was... Specifically; twelve minutes and 24 seconds per mp.
He hadn't invested fully into the mana circuit this time around, so it was understandable, but it was still about one fourth of-
Beyern's hand snapped at the dirty wrist of the filthy pickpocket who dared to try and steal his stuff, he rapidly processed the situation, inspecting the size of his opponent.
He pulled the hand up with a jerk, completely opening up his new victim's armpit up- Though he couldn't see it- Which opened them up for a full-force knee in the gut.
A slight bit of spit reached the street floor as the pickpocket's mouth was forced open from the force, which Beyern took as his attack being successful.
He let go of the wrist, letting them to their knees, he had a plan; Kick them in the face while taking out a dagger, and then steal all their money- 'Wait- No, I should just kick them twice and walk along, who knows who might recognize me, no need to get impulsive due to my somewhat worrying hatred and paranoia of someone stealing from me.'
Though, just to be safe, he still got a 3 mp 1:7 magic missile ready in rapid fashion from some rings just in case.
But before he could properly break the rat that dared to steal from him's jaw, they were somehow able to break free from their momentary stupor far quicker than someone of their stature should've- They looked about 12-14-ish years old in beyern's gaze- And showed a small bit of red from under their hood rags.
He knew a good few skills that could do something like that, but doing it so smoothly, and in that shock he had purposefully caused... They had to have a good bit of talent as a meatshield.
And a meat shield, or a teammate as one would call it in secular terms, was always a positive!
He rushed after the rag-wearing serf pickpocket, with some worth as a meat shield, while channeling more mana while also condensing the prepared magic missile even more.
But he'd need to see if he could bring himself to forgive them for their high treason, eh- He was a simple man, he'd pardon 'em if they were a positive to his short- to mid-term plans.
===
And then in six days there will be the next chapter.