Gauss continued browsing a few more similar stalls and shops, and overall, he could only describe the offerings as a mixed bag.
Some vendors were a bit more "honest," selling cantrip scrolls for just 1 or 2 silver coins—some even for a few dozen copper. But when Gauss tried asking whether they were authentic, the shopkeepers would always swear up and down, pounding their chests with declarations like, "Honest business! Triple compensation if it's fake!" Yeah, right. At those prices, what real magic could you possibly get?
Of course, there were a few more straightforward sellers too. Once they realized Gauss was a spellcaster apprentice and not someone easy to fool, they admitted the scrolls and books were secondhand stock they had bought from others—so they didn't even know if they were real or fake.
A mix of truth and lies, and even the vendors weren't sure of what they were selling.
There were also proper shops selling verified scrolls—but those were too expensive to even consider right now.
Just as Gauss was about to head off and buy some adventuring supplies, he passed by a stall and suddenly stopped. His eyes locked onto one of the many scattered pages on display.
His bone staff at his waist was suddenly releasing a faint warmth.
He stepped closer, gripped the staff, and focused on the sensation. After confirming his target, he looked up at the vendor and asked, "How much are these pages?"
"One silver coin each."
"Can you lower the price?"
"Nope."
Gauss couldn't be bothered to haggle. He tossed over a silver coin, pretended to browse a bit, and then picked the page that had triggered his staff's reaction.
After he left the area, he finally looked at the content written on the parchment.
Light.
"Isn't this just a basic cantrip?"
He glanced at his bone staff, which had now gone quiet, its earlier warmth completely faded—as if nothing had happened.
So… was this page actually the real deal?
Gauss was pretty pleased. If he'd really managed to get a genuine piece of magic for just one silver coin, that was a great deal. If he could learn it, it'd be a nice addition to his arsenal.
But what puzzled him was why the bone staff had reacted so strongly to this particular cantrip.
That shop he passed earlier had plenty of genuine spells and cantrip books on display. The shopkeeper had seemed impressive too.
But those were way too expensive—most priced at several dozen silver coins, even up to a full gold coin.
Gauss had judged they were probably real, but couldn't bring himself to pay for them.
So the staff's reaction wasn't necessarily based on authenticity. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a wand—it'd be the world's best lie detector.
Did Light have something special about it?
Shaking his head, Gauss finished a loop of the market, picked up a few small items, and returned to his inn.
Sitting on his bed, he began examining the Light cantrip page he'd bought.
Though it was a fragment, the core spell model was intact. He read through it carefully.
If not for the staff's reaction, he probably wouldn't have bought it. It just didn't feel authentic at first glance.
And even if it was real, the missing context and unclear formatting meant he might not be able to learn it anyway.
But he'd already paid, so he decided to give it a try.
He lit the oil lamp, took the page in hand, and began studying it.
He'd heard wealthier apprentices could speed up their learning using spellbooks and special ink to transcribe what they saw. Gauss didn't have that luxury. All he could rely on was his own brain and a lot of focus.
Fortunately, his 7-point Intelligence gave him a decent edge.
Still, after reading the content a few times, Gauss only ended up with a headache.
This was his first time trying to teach himself a spell from scratch. It was way harder than he expected.
The Light spell didn't look too complex, but for some reason, the model just wouldn't stick in his head—he kept forgetting it almost immediately.
Then he remembered the bone staff.
He grabbed it from his bedside table, gripped it tightly, and resumed reading.
"...?"
Suddenly, the once-difficult content seemed clearer.
As Gauss focused, the staff began to emit a soft white glow, flickering on and off—but growing more stable over time.
"...?"
Gauss raised an eyebrow.
Wait a second. I haven't even learned it yet. Why are you learning it instead?
He walked over to the window, shut it, and drew the curtains.
Before long, the bone staff had "mastered" the Light cantrip completely.
It now glowed brightly in Gauss's hand, shining like a torch.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Did… did my wand just flex on me?
Fortunately, after a while, the light faded, and the staff returned to its normal state.
At the same time, Gauss felt a strange surge of understanding travel from the staff through his hand and into his mind.
He looked back at the spell page—and suddenly, everything made sense.
So that's how it works? It's that simple?
With the staff's help, Gauss immersed himself in study once again.
The next morning.
Level 0 Cantrip: Light Lvl.1 (5/10)
As he woke up early and checked his Adventurer's Manual, Gauss was relieved.
His hard work the night before had paid off.
Through effort and talent, he had successfully self-taught a new cantrip in just a few hours.
It wouldn't boost his combat power much, but Light had great utility. It could illuminate dark environments, reduce vision penalties, and help him explore caves or dungeons more safely.
In some cases, it could even counter certain darkness-based magical effects.
A very practical travel spell.
He did notice that having Light added to his magical repertoire made his mind feel ever so slightly heavier.
So learning spells independently added some mental strain?
But the load wasn't too bad. If he didn't focus on it, he barely noticed. So Gauss let it go.
After getting dressed and eating breakfast in the inn's dining room, he left in a hurry.
He had training scheduled at the Spellcaster Mutual Aid Association.
Over the next four days...
Mage Armor Lvl.3 (23/50)
Gauss felt the steady growth of his personalized Mage Armor and couldn't help but smile.
With continued training and increasing mastery, the principles behind its magical resonance were becoming clearer and clearer.
"Feeling good today?" Lawrence clapped him on the shoulder.
The two had grown quite familiar over the last few days.
As vice-president of the association, Lawrence was a local—his family owned several herb shops, making him something of a well-off young master.
His daily life consisted of managing the association, practicing spells, and enjoying himself.
Despite being only in his early twenties, he already lived the kind of semi-retired life most could only dream of.
Although Lawrence wasn't as powerful as Gauss, he was still highly capable among apprentices. His necromancy cantrips, amplified by his personal wand, could burn enemies and even disrupt healing effects with proper timing.
"Not bad." Gauss chuckled while munching on a snack to restore mana.
"Oh, right. Gauss," Lawrence suddenly remembered, "we're planning to explore a newly discovered micro-dungeon. Interested in joining us?"
"A micro-dungeon?" Gauss blinked.
"You don't know what that is?" Lawrence looked surprised.
"Nope. Tell me about it." Gauss admitted honestly.
After a short pause, Lawrence began to explain:
Long ago, there was a great kingdom—what people now call the Forgotten Realm.
Their magical development reached its peak... then vanished overnight due to an unknown catastrophe.
The land collapsed. The civilization fell.
Its glory was swept away like dust on the wind. Only the scattered remains of dungeons, crypts, and ruins occasionally "resurfacing" from the earth offer any proof it ever existed.
Modern society's rapid development came from exploring these remains—ranging from massive ruins to micro-dungeons.
Micro-dungeons are the smallest kind. They can still contain treasure, magical artifacts, scrolls, and riches... but they also carry potential risks.
That Lawrence was sharing this info—despite only knowing Gauss for less than a week—meant he trusted him, both as a person and as a powerful companion who could ensure their party's safety.
"Anyone else going?"
"Yeah, I invited a few other apprentice friends from different classes. Altogether we'll be around six or seven people," Lawrence replied. "Since it's just a micro-dungeon, too many people would be a hassle, and the rewards would get too diluted."
After asking a few more dungeon-related questions, Gauss began weighing his options.
He had already sparred with nearly every apprentice at the association. His Mage Armor had plateaued there—further training wouldn't be very efficient.
Exploring a dungeon seemed like a good next step. According to Lawrence, micro- and small-scale dungeons weren't too dangerous—well within the ability of competent apprentices.
And with his current level of Mage Armor, Gauss figured he could take two or three pro-level hits and still stay standing.
With that level of safety, it was worth the risk—especially for the potential rewards: gold, magic items, scrolls, gear. All things he badly needed.
"Count me in."
After a moment of thought, Gauss made his decision.