“History and Basics again,” Tatsuya muttered as he adjusted the strap of his bag. “I feel like every lecture is them reminding us how insignificant we are compared to legendary heroes.”
Seiji smirked. “Maybe it’s their way of motivating us. Show us how far we have to go.”
“Or rubbing it in,” Tatsuya countered with a grin.
The classroom was already half-full when they arrived, the hum of students chatting filling the air. Seiji slid into his usual seat, Tatsuya beside him, as the instructor entered with a stack of scrolls and books.
“Settle down, everyone,” the instructor’s voice commanded immediate attention. “Today’s lesson will cover the impact of the Grand Wars on modern magic systems and combat techniques. I trust you’ve all done the assigned readings?”
A few murmurs of acknowledgment rippled through the room, though Seiji could tell from Tatsuya’s blank look that not everyone had managed to keep up.
The instructor began, weaving a tale of conflict and innovation, of how the Grand Wars had forced mages, warriors, and inventors to adapt and evolve. Diagrams of ancient weapons and magic circles appeared on the board, brought to life by simple enchantments.
“Pay close attention,” the instructor said, pointing to a diagram of a defensive barrier spell. “This technique, though primitive by today’s standards, laid the foundation for modern enchantments. Its simplicity belies its effectiveness, especially in team-based combat.”
Seiji found himself engrossed, his earlier lessons in enchantments giving him a new appreciation for the intricacies of the spells being described. He scribbled notes, his mind already thinking of ways he might experiment with similar techniques in his Skill Card Book.
By the time the lecture ended, Seiji’s notebook was filled with diagrams and annotations. Tatsuya, on the other hand, had spent most of the time doodling a stick figure hero triumphing over a giant monster.
“Think they’d let me use this in class?” Tatsuya asked, showing off his sketch with a cheeky grin.
Seiji chuckled. “Pretty sure they’d call it ‘imaginative’ and dock points for effort.”
Their next class, Combat Conditioning, brought an entirely different energy. The students gathered in the training hall, where rows of practice dummies and sparring rings awaited.
“Pair up!” barked the instructor, a burly man with arms like tree trunks. “Today, we focus on endurance, controlled aggression, and teamwork. You need to learn to push yourself while staying sharp!”
Seiji and Tatsuya naturally teamed up, though it quickly became apparent that Tatsuya’s enthusiasm far outweighed his precision.
“Come on, Seiji! Swing like you mean it!” Tatsuya yelled, dodging a half-hearted strike and countering with a jab that barely missed Seiji’s side.
“I’m trying not to break anything!” Seiji retorted, blocking the next attack.
“Break me? Ha! You couldn’t if you tried!”
Their back-and-forth caught the attention of the instructor, who sauntered over and crossed his arms. “You two think this is a game?”
Seiji froze, unsure how to respond, but Tatsuya, ever the bold one, grinned. “No, sir! Just making sure we’re ready for the real deal!”
The instructor snorted. “Good. Because if you’re not, the dungeon trials will eat you alive. Now, switch it up—Seiji, you’re on defense. Tatsuya, show me your offense.”
The shift in roles forced Seiji to stay on his toes, blocking Tatsuya’s increasingly aggressive strikes while trying to conserve energy. Each clash left him more winded, but the instructor’s sharp eye kept him from slacking.
“Focus, Seiji! You’re hesitating. One mistake in a real fight, and you’re done!”
The words stung, but they pushed him to dig deeper. He tightened his grip on his training weapon and adjusted his stance, blocking Tatsuya’s next strike with a solid deflection.
“Better,” the instructor said, nodding approvingly. “Now keep your guard up. Tatsuya, stop telegraphing your attacks!”
Tatsuya groaned but adjusted his movements, his strikes becoming faster and less predictable. Seiji barely managed to block some of them, and a few hits landed on his arms and sides, leaving dull aches in their wake.
“Switch roles again!” the instructor barked.
Now back on offense, Seiji hesitated at first, worried about overdoing it. But the instructor’s sharp glare left no room for leniency.
“Seiji, if you hold back, you’re wasting both of your time! Attack like you mean it!”
Taking a deep breath, Seiji stepped forward and launched a series of strikes, aiming for precision rather than brute force. Tatsuya struggled to keep up, his defensive posture faltering under the pressure.
“Good!” the instructor shouted. “That’s how you put your opponent on the back foot. But don’t get cocky—one wrong move, and they’ll counter!”
Seiji adjusted his rhythm, watching Tatsuya’s movements closely. When Tatsuya tried to lunge for a counterattack, Seiji sidestepped and tapped him lightly on the shoulder with his weapon.
“Point for Seiji!” the instructor declared.
“Lucky shot,” Tatsuya grumbled, but there was a grin on his face.
The session didn’t end there. The instructor rotated the pairs, forcing everyone to adapt to different fighting styles. Seiji faced off against several other students, each with varying levels of skill and aggression. One opponent, a tall boy with a serious expression, pushed Seiji to his limits with rapid, precise strikes that left no room for error.
The tall boy’s strikes came in quick succession, each one calculated and forceful. Seiji felt his arms tremble under the impact as he struggled to parry. The boy’s expression never wavered, his focus razor-sharp.
“Keep your stance, Seiji!” the instructor barked from the sidelines. “Don’t let him dictate the rhythm!”
Seiji gritted his teeth and tried to push back, shifting his footwork to match the boy’s movements. He spotted a brief opening and lunged forward with a low strike, but his opponent sidestepped effortlessly, spinning to counter with a strike aimed at Seiji’s back.
Reacting on instinct, Seiji ducked and rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the blow. He sprang to his feet, sweat dripping from his brow, and adjusted his grip on the training weapon.
“Not bad,” the boy said, his voice calm and collected. “But you’re still too predictable.”
Seiji clenched his jaw, feeling a spark of determination ignite within him. He took a deep breath, recalling the instructor’s earlier advice about staying sharp and watching his opponent’s movements.
The next exchange was even more intense. Seiji focused on defense, waiting for the boy to overcommit. His patience paid off when the boy lunged with a heavy downward strike. Seiji sidestepped and countered with a swift thrust, the wooden weapon tapping against the boy’s ribs.
“Point for Seiji!” the instructor called out.
The boy stepped back and nodded. “You’re better than I thought. What’s your name?”
“Seiji Takahashi,” he replied, still catching his breath.
“Renji Takamatsu,” the boy said, extending a hand. “Let’s spar again sometime.”
Seiji shook his hand, feeling a sense of camaraderie despite the sweat and exhaustion.
The instructor clapped his hands to gather the students’ attention. “All right, listen up! We’re not done yet. Pair up into groups of three. It’s time for team drills!”
The students quickly scrambled to form groups. Seiji ended up with Tatsuya and Renji, the latter giving him a curt nod as they stood together.
“For this exercise,” the instructor began, “each group will take turns defending a position while the other groups attack. This isn’t just about strength—it’s about strategy and teamwork. You’ll need to protect your flag while trying to capture the enemy’s.”
The training hall transformed as assistants set up flags on either end of the room, marking the “bases” for each group. The first round began with Seiji’s group assigned to defense.
Renji took the lead, outlining a strategy. “I’ll hold the front. Tatsuya, you take the right flank. Seiji, you cover the left. Watch for openings and don’t let them distract you from the flag.”
Tatsuya grinned. “Got it. Let’s see them try to get past us!”
As the opposing group charged, Seiji’s heart raced. He tightened his grip on his weapon, watching the attackers split up to test their defenses.
A girl with quick reflexes and a spear came at Seiji’s side. Her movements were fluid and relentless, forcing him to stay on the defensive. He parried her strikes, waiting for an opportunity to counter.
Meanwhile, Tatsuya was engaged in a fierce duel with another attacker, his wild swings keeping the opponent on their toes. Renji, true to his earlier display, held the center with impressive composure, blocking two attackers at once.
“Seiji, push her back!” Renji called out, his voice cutting through the noise.
Seiji steeled himself and shifted his weight, deflecting the spear’s thrust to the side before stepping in with a sharp counterstrike. The girl stumbled back, giving him a chance to reposition and hold the line.
“Nice one!” Tatsuya shouted, managing to land a glancing blow on his opponent.
The attackers regrouped for another push, but Renji’s sharp commands and the team’s growing coordination held them off until the round ended.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
When it was their turn to attack, Seiji found himself in a new role, testing his ability to adapt. Renji devised a plan that involved Tatsuya causing a distraction while Seiji and Renji worked together to breach the defenses.
Tatsuya charged in with wild abandon, shouting and swinging his weapon with exaggerated movements. The defenders scrambled to counter him, leaving an opening on the left.
“Now, Seiji!” Renji whispered, and the two of them darted forward, weaving through the chaos.
Seiji managed to tag one of the defenders, creating a path for Renji to reach the flag. With a quick motion, Renji seized it and sprinted back to their side, earning their team a victory.
The instructor blew his whistle. “Good work, everyone. That’s enough for today.”
Seiji collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent but satisfied. Tatsuya flopped down beside him, laughing. “Man, that was intense. We make a good team, huh?”
Renji nodded, sitting down with them. “You both did well. If we keep this up, we’ll be ready for whatever the Academy throws at us.”
Seiji smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Despite the exhaustion, he knew that today’s training had pushed him closer to his goal of becoming stronger.
The Academy’s library was as massive as it was intimidating, with its endless rows of towering bookshelves and floating enchanted lanterns casting a soft golden glow. Seiji hesitated just inside the doorway, his hands buried in his jacket pockets, as he glanced around at the clusters of students already immersed in their studies.
For a moment, he considered leaving. But then, his thoughts drifted back to the Skill Card Book resting securely in his dorm room. “Book Owner, huh?” he muttered under his breath. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to know a bit more about magic...”
With a sigh, he started wandering through the aisles labeled “Runic Studies,” “Practical Enchantments,” and “Historical Magics.” His eyes skimmed lazily over the titles, his pace slow and unhurried. Occasionally, he’d pull a book off the shelf, flip through a few pages, and promptly return it with a bored expression.
Eventually, one title caught his attention: “Foundations of Practical Enchantment.” It looked simple enough—no overly dramatic covers or excessively long titles. Tucking it under his arm, he strolled toward a quiet corner with plush chairs by the windows, where a light breeze occasionally stirred the curtains.
Dropping into one of the armchairs, Seiji leaned back and opened the book lazily. The words blurred slightly as his eyes skimmed the first few pages, but his attention drifted in and out. The quiet atmosphere of the library, paired with the gentle sway of the curtains, wasn’t exactly helping him stay focused.
He propped the book up lazily and began skimming for anything remotely interesting. Mana imbuement… rune stabilization… It all sounded useful enough, but the dense text wasn’t exactly holding his attention. Instead, he jotted down a few notes in his scrappy handwriting, letting his mind wander as much as his eyes.
“Never thought I’d see you in a library,” a familiar voice cut through the stillness.
Seiji tilted his head back to see Yuka Kamizaki standing a few feet away, one eyebrow raised and a book tucked under her arm. Her sharp gaze flicked from him to the book he was holding, her lips curving into a faint smirk.
“Yuka,” Seiji greeted, sitting up straighter. “Didn’t peg you for the library type either.”
“Lunch break,” Yuka replied, pulling out the chair across from him. “I’ve got an hour before my next class, so I figured I’d make use of it. You?” She nodded toward the book in his hands. “What’s with the sudden interest in enchantments?”
“Nothing sudden about it,” Seiji said with a lazy grin, leaning back again. “Just... broadening my horizons. Gotta live up to my job as a Book Owner, right?”
“Uh-huh. Sounds like an excuse to sit around and do nothing while pretending to be productive,” Yuka shot back, her smirk widening.
“Hey, sitting around is productive,” Seiji retorted. “If you think about it hard enough.”
Yuka rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she set her own book—“Advanced Enchantment Theory: Crafting Applications”—on the table and flipped it open.
For a while, they read in relative silence, the only sounds coming from the soft rustle of pages and the occasional murmur of other students. Seiji’s pace was slow, his attention drifting between the text and the view outside the window. He wasn’t exactly devouring the material, but every now and then, he’d find something interesting enough to scribble down.
“What are you even getting out of that?” Yuka asked, breaking the silence.
Seiji lazily lifted his book to show her the page he was on. “Runes. Looks useful enough. Maybe I’ll figure out how to make it work for me.”
Yuka leaned over to glance at it, her sharp eyes scanning the diagram. “That’s basic stuff. If you’re going to use it, you’d better learn to stabilize mana flow first. Otherwise, the whole thing could blow up in your face.”
“Sounds like a lot of effort,” Seiji said, leaning back again. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”
Yuka shook her head with a sigh, turning back to her own book. “You really are impossible.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Seiji replied, his grin returning.
A few minutes passed, and Seiji’s gaze drifted to a nearby bookshelf. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw movement—a shadow darting between the aisles. He blinked, sitting up slightly, but whatever it was had disappeared.
“What’s up?” Yuka asked, noticing his shift in posture.
“Thought I saw something,” Seiji murmured, his eyes still on the bookshelf. “Probably nothing.”
Yuka glanced at the clock on the wall and stood, gathering her things. “Well, if you’re chasing shadows, you’ll have to do it on your own. I’ve got class in ten minutes.”
“Already?” Seiji asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Some of us have actual schedules,” Yuka said with a teasing smirk. “Try not to fall asleep here, Seiji. You might actually learn something.”
“No promises,” he replied with a lazy wave as she walked off.
Once Yuka was gone, Seiji leaned back in his chair again, letting out a sigh. His eyes wandered back to the book in his hands, the dense text suddenly seeming more tolerable. “Guess I’ll stick around for a while,” he muttered, flipping the page.
The library fell quiet again, save for the distant sound of footsteps and the soft rustling of paper.
The library's hushed silence had become a comforting background noise for Seiji as he sat at the corner table, legs stretched out, a book lazily propped open in front of him. His elbow rested on the table, supporting his chin as he flipped pages at a leisurely pace.
“Why does everything in these books have to sound so dramatic?” he mumbled under his breath. His eyes scanned a paragraph describing ancient mages wielding catastrophic spells, leveling battlefields with the flick of a hand. “Sure, I’ve got a Skill Card Book, but where’s the part about taking naps as a power move?”
He yawned and let his head fall back against the chair, staring up at the high ceiling of the library. “Not bad for a lazy afternoon,” he thought, closing his eyes briefly.
That moment of relaxation, however, didn’t last. The book in his lap slipped free, tumbling onto the floor with a resounding thud. The sound echoed across the quiet library like a cannon shot. Seiji flinched and jolted upright, muttering a panicked, “Oops.”
The nearby librarian—a strict-looking older woman with thin-rimmed glasses—poked her head around a corner, glaring at him. “Quiet!” she hissed, finger raised to her lips.
“Sorry, sorry!” Seiji whispered back hurriedly, waving both hands in apology. He bent to retrieve the fallen book, but his clumsy movement bumped the table. The stack of books he’d haphazardly piled there teetered precariously before toppling over with a loud crash.
This time, every head in the library turned toward him, some students stifling chuckles while others shook their heads in annoyance.
Seiji grimaced, his face flushing red. “Guess I’m not cut out for this ‘silent study’ thing,” he muttered to himself as he scrambled to gather the scattered books.
Before he could finish, the librarian marched over, hands on her hips. “If you can’t handle library etiquette, young man, perhaps you’d be better suited outside.”
“No, no! I’ll behave, I promise!” Seiji said, clutching the books to his chest like they were precious artifacts. “Look, no more noise. See?” He sat back down carefully, the librarian giving him one last warning glare before walking away.
With the momentary embarrassment behind him, Seiji sighed and placed the books back on the table. He picked one at random, flipping it open to a section on basic enchanting techniques. The diagrams were simple—intricate mana flows connecting runes, demonstrating how energy could be directed into objects to give them temporary properties.
Something clicked as he scanned the page. His mind flashed back to his recent experiments with the Skill Card Book. “Wait a minute…” he muttered, leaning closer. “If I can enchant objects with temporary effects… what if I combine that with the skill cards?”
The idea began to take shape. What if he could use the Skill Card Book to “enchant” mundane objects, like weapons or tools, by attaching specific skill effects to them temporarily? His Enchant (Active) skill might not just be for simple boosts—it could work as a bridge between his abilities and the real world.
He tapped the page thoughtfully, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. “This could be a game-changer,” he murmured, feeling a spark of motivation.
He grabbed his notebook and scribbled down ideas for experimentation:
- Try enchanting a weapon card with temporary fire damage.
- Test using Enchant on an ally’s equipment during practice.
- See if enchantments could stack with passive skill boosts.
Seiji couldn’t help but grin. “Looks like coming here wasn’t a waste after all,” he said to himself.
The library’s quiet atmosphere settled back in as Seiji got absorbed in brainstorming and planning. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that while he might not have the discipline of a scholar, his curiosity and knack for connecting dots were starting to pay off.
For the first time that afternoon, he felt like he was getting closer to understanding the true potential of his Skill Card Book—and that thought made even the quiet library feel a little more exciting.
Seiji leaned back in his chair, twirling the pen in his hand as he stared down at his messy notes. The diagrams he’d sketched were crude at best—arrows pointing to circles that vaguely resembled runes and barely legible scribbles filling the margins. Still, there was something thrilling about the ideas forming in his head.
He opened the Skill Card Book, flipping through its pages with practiced ease. A mix of mundane and unlocked skills filled the parchment-like pages, but he stopped at one in particular: Enchant (Active) – Common.
“Temporary magical effects, huh?” Seiji murmured, rereading the skill description. “If this book lets me collect and use abilities, then maybe… just maybe…” He paused, his mind racing with possibilities.
His eyes darted back to the enchanting book he had borrowed. One particular passage caught his attention: “Mana flow is the bridge between intent and action. To enchant effectively, a caster must visualize the desired effect clearly before channeling mana into the medium.”
“Visualize clearly, huh? That’s easy to say,” Seiji muttered, closing the book with a light thump. “Doesn’t help when my idea of ‘clear’ is more like ‘hope this works.’”
But despite his complaints, the pieces were starting to fall into place. What if he could use the Skill Card Book not just to enhance himself, but to enhance other things? Equipment, objects, maybe even his environment?
He sat up straighter, the lazy air around him replaced by genuine focus. He jotted down more notes, trying to think of ways to combine the Enchant skill with the cards he already had.
- Could the Cooking (Passive) card be enchanted into a pot or knife to boost food quality?
- Could a Basic Combat Skill card temporarily turn a dull blade into a sharper weapon?
- What about enhancing defense by imbuing objects with shields or barriers?
The possibilities felt endless, but there was still so much he didn’t know. His experiments would have to start small. For now, he decided, the goal would be to see if he could enchant something simple—a mundane item—with any card effect.
Seiji sighed and stretched, his back cracking slightly as he looked around the quiet library. The sense of peaceful isolation was oddly comforting, even after the earlier commotion. His thoughts drifted to how out of place he felt here.
“Guess I’m not really the ‘bookworm’ type,” he admitted to himself, his eyes scanning the towering shelves filled with knowledge. “But hey, I’ve got a book that makes up for it.”
He smirked and tapped the Skill Card Book lightly. “It’s not exactly the kind of library material they’d loan out, though.”
The sound of a creaking chair startled him. He looked up, realizing he had leaned too far back. In his haste to correct himself, he jerked forward, accidentally knocking over the small stack of books on the table. They fell with a loud thud, earning him a sharp glare from the librarian across the room. Seiji froze, offering an awkward smile and a half-hearted wave of apology as the librarian’s piercing gaze lingered a moment longer before she returned to her desk.
“Smooth, Seiji,” he muttered under his breath, crouching down to pick up the fallen books. As he gathered them, one of the books fell open to a page depicting a complex rune. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the diagram, the intricate lines and symbols sparking an idea in his mind.
The accompanying text read: "Runes can act as conduits, amplifying the effects of an enchantment when properly inscribed."
“Runes, huh?” Seiji whispered, placing the books back on the table. “Maybe I don’t need to rely solely on mana. What if I could use runes as a way to direct or store the effect? That could take some pressure off my own reserves.”
He pulled out his notebook and hastily sketched a crude version of the rune. His handwriting was messy, and the lines weren’t perfect, but it was enough to get the idea down. The thought of combining the Skill Card Book’s abilities with rune-based enhancements sent a spark of excitement through him. This could be the breakthrough he needed to expand his uses for Enchant.
Seiji leaned back again, though this time he made sure the chair wouldn’t betray him. He tapped his pen against his notebook, his thoughts swirling. “This might actually work… well, when I hit Level 10, anyway. Until then, guess it’s all theory.”
He flipped through the Skill Card Book again, eyeing the description of his job ability. "Card Crafting… Level 10," he murmured. "Still a long way to go, but at least I can start preparing."
The clock on the library wall ticked steadily, but Seiji barely noticed as he continued scribbling notes, ideas flowing freely now. Though his laid-back nature hadn’t disappeared, there was a growing sense of purpose behind his actions—a small but promising step forward.