A treacherous path

Learning under Alogra definitely wouldn't give him the chance to study new spells—not that he'd have much luck with them anyway, considering Alogra wasn't a mage.

'I had to make early preparations. Thankfully, Urek was kind enough to put the book in my bag.' Jack eyed the book in his hands, its cover as enticing as the first time he saw it. 'Maybe he deserves a promotion after all this. No doubt he'll be itching for a better position someday.'

Despite Jack's arrogance over the years, Urek remained steadfast in his service. He'd never spoken out against him or ignored a single command. Jack felt a rare moment of gratitude, albeit a slight one. 'Maybe I'll make him head of my piggry one day—a perfect promotion.' Jack snapped his fingers with satisfaction at the thought.

Running his hands over the thick, hard cover of the book, he whispered the words printed on it: Maria Gunham: Learning the Flames.

The very book that had been his guide ever since he arrived in this strange new world. This text alone had led him to acquire his current spells—everything he could wield from his small arsenal.

[Flame spells] 

[Flame Blast: Level 1]

[Scorching Hands: Level 1]

[Flames of Scourge: Level 1]

[Dark spells]

[Dark blast]

He gazed at the list in his mind, taking in the few basic spells he'd managed to glean from the pages. They weren't much, but they were effective for now. His flame spells, though basic, were his best means of attack.

"Two years, and all I've learned are three fire spells and one dark spell." Jack sighed, staring at the book with both pride and frustration. 'I've been at this for months, and still no progress with anything new.' He bit his lip as he flipped through the pages.

'Well, I suppose the dark spells are harder to come by. At least the fire spells are common enough… yet somehow just as hard to master.' Jack's thoughts drifted to the royal library, where he'd combed the archives just to find a single dark spell.

'Guess I'll leave those spells alone for now… until I can find Martias Gregory, or maybe someone similar' He thought of the book's author, whose life had taken a turn much like his own. After developing a second core—one resembling Jack's—Gregory had barely started exploring his newfound dark powers before the church had labeled him a demon and placed a bounty on his head.

"Idiots, the lot of them," Jack muttered, recalling the mage's story. "At least he had the sense to disappear before they could get him." A wry smile spread across his face as he imagined someday meeting Gregory. 'He'd probably be ancient by now, if he's even alive…'

It was thoughts like these that reminded him how isolated his path had become. No allies, no friends; just Jack and the challenge ahead. "More people would only weigh me down. They'll just slow my progress," he muttered.

Yet he couldn't deny he needed help, at least with understanding the basics. Mastering magic without formal guidance had been far tougher than he'd ever imagined. Out of the thousand spells in this book, he'd only managed to learn three.

'Only three!' The number gnawed at him, a testament to the grueling work he'd put in.

'Is magic really this difficult to master? Even with a book in front of me?' He was annoyed.

He found himself wondering if bringing the book along had been useless after all. He tossed it to the side, suddenly exhausted by the mere thought of the effort it would take.

But after a moment, he pulled it back and took a deep breath. "If I don't try, I won't get anywhere. I'll keep pushing… progress will come, however slowly." But then his eyes widened as he remembered something.

"Wait! Where's my Jotting book?" His heart sank as he realized he must have dropped it when he was running from that beast.

He was on the run for his life, that he had completely forgotten the worth of the Jotter and then threw it off while running.

'Perfect… just perfect.' He cursed under his breath, trying to recall the exact spot he'd left it. 

'Just my luck… losing things left and right,' he thought bitterly. 'I'll have to go back for it later, once I'm sure I can handle that monster. At least no one asides me can understand it' For now, he'd have to live without it and move forward.

Taking a deep breath, Jack looked around, trying to remind himself that he had only just begun.

This was the opening stage of his new life, a fresh beginning in a world far removed from the comforts he'd once known. 'I've already altered the path of destiny; my choices are all my own now.'

'So I guess I'm the author now… maybe every reader is fated to become a writer someday.' A smirk crossed his face at the thought. 

From reading about fantasy worlds, he was now living one out. No longer was he a spectator, but the main player, holding the pen and writing his own fate. He had only one goal in this world: to be the strongest, the most powerful, to server the cruel fate the world had prepared for him, to be free from the shackles of weakness and the painful life that had once bound him. To steer the course of fate with his own hands.

This was his mission, his path—and he had decided to walk it alone.

The power he sought would be his, no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice. He wasn't bothered by whatever the system would demand along the way but he was ready.

"I will become the strongest, and anyone who wishes me dead will meet their end long before I do." Jack's voice was low, his fist clenched, his eyes alight with a fierce resolve. 

If someone had seen his eyes just then, they'd have witnessed the unmistakable glint of black, burning with an intensity few would dare face.

[The Genesis of a Necromancer!]