System: "[Congratulations, Host, on advancing to a Tier 1 Mage. Achievement and Title system unlocked.]"
[Achievement: Become a Tier 1 Mage.]
[Title: Rookie Mage, Fresh Out of the Nest.]
When Ron opened his eyes, the system notification popped up right away.
"This title is so bad, you might as well not give me one at all…" Ron rolled his eyes.
"Fresh Out of the Nest" paired with "Mage Rookie"? That was peak newbie energy.
System: "[For every achievement completed, the system will grant a matching title, and its emblem will be engraved on the system panel.]"
Ron glanced at the system panel, and sure enough, a circular badge had appeared in the top right corner. It bore the image of a small green bird, intricately carved and full of life.
[Title Effect: The first Wood-element spell learned by the wearer has double effect.]
(This is a permanent effect. It applies even when the title is not equipped.)
"Okay… that's actually not bad." Ron nodded and closed the panel.
He had just advanced to Tier 1 and hadn't learned any Wood-element spells yet, so the effect didn't mean much for now.
These past few days, every afternoon, Ron had been sitting outside his shop, showcasing his meditation.
Even though a mage's meditation results weren't visible to outsiders, Ron's goal wasn't to demonstrate the meditation itself—
As long as people could feel the abnormal density of elemental energy around him, that was enough.
To ordinary people, a high elemental density just made their senses a little sharper. But to mages? Their perception of elemental flow was much keener.
They would immediately notice the unusually rich and concentrated elemental atmosphere.
Because of this, several mages had already stopped by to ask questions over the past few days—though most were half-skeptical at best.
These mages weren't affiliated with any major factions. Most were only Tier 1 or Tier 2 and had piecemeal magical knowledge.
They were the so-called "backyard mages," often trained by rogue practitioners instead of formal academies.
While their magical theory was lacking, their street smarts were top-notch—and when faced with new things, they were always cautious and skeptical.
Worst of all, they were broke.
The moment they heard the flowers cost 20 gold coins apiece, they bailed immediately.
That was when Ron realized—not every mage is rich.
So after a few uneventful days in business, while his profits remained at zero, his magical cultivation had skyrocketed. With the help of Nether Orchid fruit, the orchid itself, and the powerful Natural Meditation Technique, Ron advanced to Tier 1 Mage within just ten days of beginning his training.
If Mason knew this, his jaw would probably hit the floor.
Ron stood up, brushed the dust off his pants, picked up the Nether Orchid from beside him, and walked back into the shop.
The onlookers—mostly ordinary folks who had gathered out of curiosity—dispersed once the "show" was over.
Just then, a loud voice rang out from the crowd:
"Wait!"
A dwarf in mage's robes pushed forward and quickly followed Ron into the shop.
Ron turned to greet him politely, "Hello, how can I help you?"
Mason was still mentally reeling from the elemental ocean whirlpool he had just witnessed. It took him a moment to remember why he'd entered the shop.
Clearing his throat, he put on a stern expression.
"I heard about the effects of this flower. It's… fascinating. Hard to believe, honestly."
"But with all due respect, as an assistant professor at the Magic Academy with decades of magical study behind me, I have never heard of such a plant existing within the field of magic."
"So I have no choice but to suspect that you're deliberately creating illusions here to scam unsuspecting mages out of their money."
Ah, dwarves. Honest, blunt, and completely lacking subtlety.
Ron didn't take offense. In fact, he found this kind of directness refreshingly efficient.
And unlike the amateur rogue mages from before, this dwarf clearly had a formal academy background and held a real academic position. That meant—he probably had money. A 20-gold price tag wouldn't scare him off.
Ron didn't rush to defend himself. Instead, he extended a hand politely.
"I'm Ron Andre. A pleasure to meet you, Assistant Mage from the Academy."
"Uh…" Mason was taken aback by how composed Ron remained, despite his own confrontational approach. This earned the young man some respect.
He shook Ron's hand and replied, "Mason. I'm an assistant at the Magic Academy here in Chaos City."
"Nice to meet you, Mason," Ron said with a smile. Then, without immediately defending the orchid's effects, he said, "I am the seventh prince of the Human Empire. I came to Chaos City at my father's request, and this shop was purchased on the orders of the commander of the Radiant Mercenary Corps."
"So, you see, this store isn't just mine alone."
Mason's brain briefly froze.
Andre… Ron Andre…
The royal family of the Human Empire did indeed carry the surname Andre…
So this flower shop was actually backed by the entire Human Empire?
If they really had discovered a plant that could enhance a mage's meditation, then… maybe it was real?
Mason glanced at Ron with renewed curiosity. His brain rapidly filled in all sorts of assumptions and conspiracy theories.
But then again, Andre was a common name in the Empire—used by both nobles and commoners alike.
So he couldn't rule out the possibility that Ron was lying.
Mason quickly composed himself and asked, "How can you prove any of what you just said? Words alone aren't enough—I need real proof."
Ron brought his index finger and thumb together and traced a wheat stalk symbol over his chest, speaking solemnly:
"I swear by my faith in the Goddess of Harvest that everything I've said is true."
In this world, faith was no trivial matter.
To swear by a deity—especially one's own patron deity—was a serious and sacred act.
The Church of the Goddess of Harvest was one of the Three Great Faiths of the Human Empire. And the original Ron Andre, whose body Ron now inhabited, had indeed followed this faith.
Ron was just… borrowing the belief.
Besides, every word he'd spoken to Mason was technically true—it was just arranged in a way that encouraged certain conclusions.
He hadn't lied.
So even if the Goddess were watching, she'd have nothing to blame him for.
As expected, Mason's expression turned serious the moment he saw Ron swear by his faith. His skepticism began to melt away.
Ron seized the opportunity and added, "If you're still unsure, you can confirm everything at the Radiant Mercenary Corps's branch here in Chaos City. Ask for the clerk Jasper—he personally handled the purchase of this shop."
By this point, most of Mason's suspicions had already evaporated.