Returning the book to Heron, Aurelian said, "The basics won't cut it. Do you have anything on Light magic?"
"Light magic…" Heron repeated, his expression clearly saying, 'Don't think too highly of yourself, boy.' "Yes, I do have a codex dedicated solely to Light magic. But don't you think you're moving too quickly? Light magic is generally considered very advanced, even for an A-Rank Magi. Most of its spells hover around Tier VII to X, with some reaching as high as Tier XVI."
Lysander looked at Aurelian with an annoyed expression. To him, Aurelian was clearly trying to show off by asking for a Light magic codex. He hadn't even learned a basic affinity yet, and he wanted his first to be Light? The arrogance of it. How could someone overestimate their own capabilities to such an extent?
Lysander fully believed that Aurelian had killed the Gasoian Bat only because he had taken some kind of enhancement elixir. It was hard for him to accept that someone with such apparent talent could be roaming around unheard of, and even more unbelievable that he wouldn't be a member of the Magi Association.
With a sigh, Heron took another long look at Aurelian's face. There was no impatience there, no childish eagerness, no hint that this was a joke or a provocation. The young man's eyes were calm, focused, almost unsettlingly sincere. Whatever his reasons were, he truly wanted a Light magic codex.
Turning away, Heron faced the shelves behind him. His hand moved slowly across rows of books and codices. He searched until he paused on a thick codex that was marked with simple letters: "Why Light?" But as he did, he came up with three reasons why Aurelian would ask for a Light magic text.
Reason one, Aurelian was blissfully ignorant. From the way he carried himself, from his accent, his mannerisms, and the gaps in his common knowledge, Heron could tell the young man was not from this region of the world. Perhaps he came from some distant land where magic and Magi were merely things people talked about, with barely any of them actually present. If that was the case, then Aurelian's request wasn't arrogance at all, but unfamiliarity.
The second possibility was less charitable. Aurelian might simply be arrogant, grossly overestimating his own talent. Heron had seen many like that over the decades. Young men who sensed a flicker of power within themselves and immediately reached for the highest, most dangerous arts, convinced they were special. True, Heron could sense something unusual within Aurelian, something faintly divine and unsettling in its purity, but it was still distant, still unrefined. Potential alone was not qualification. Many promising Magi had broken themselves before they were ready.
The third possibility gave Heron pause. Maybe Aurelian might truly be that talented. If that was the case, then Light magic wouldn't be something Aurelian aspired to. It would be something he was already aligned with, whether he understood it or not.
Heron finally pulled the codex free from the shelf. Dust slid from the pale leather cover as he turned, the book heavy in his hands, far heavier than its size suggested. He studied Aurelian one last time, as if trying to measure something. Then he extended the codex.
"Here it is," Heron said. "Take your time with it. Don't overdo it. And remember to return the book on time. I lend them for a maximum of two weeks, and that doesn't mean you return it at the end of the second week. Returning it a few days earlier won't kill you."
Aurelian nodded and accepted the book with both hands. "Don't worry. I won't waste much time with it."
'Such arrogance,' Heron thought. 'Does he believe he can learn Light magic in just two weeks?'
With that, Aurelian opened the codex. The first page his eyes landed on was the glossary of spells.
He paused.
His gaze sharpened as he scanned down the list. Behind every spell name was a Roman numeral marking its tier, and almost all of them bore the same rank.
VIII.
Most Light spells in this codex, it seemed, ranked at Tier VIII, even though Heron had mentioned that Light magic could reach as high as Tier XVI. That could only mean one thing. Heron had deliberately given him a weaker codex, judging his capabilities as insufficient to handle the higher tiers.
Aurelian didn't mind.
If anything, he wanted to test the limits of his increased Intelligence stat, to see how well it translated into arcane comprehension and scaling. Theory, structure, aether flow, spell logic. If he could grasp the fundamentals of Light magic at this level with ease, then higher-tier codices would only be a matter of time.
His eyes swept through the page.
Radiant Lance VIII
Sanctified Barrier VIII
Lumen Purge VIII
Halo of Judgment VIII
Solar Brand VIII
Beacon of Absolution VIII
Consecrated Dawn VIII
Aurelian slowly exhaled, 'Tier eight across the board,' he thought.
With that, Aurelian continued to scan the glossary, his eyes moving steadily down the list. Most of the spell names blurred together after a while. Radiant barriers, cleansing pulses, consecrated sigils. Useful, but not what he was looking for.
Then his gaze stopped.
Virtuous Lance — Tier X
He paused.
Tier X stood out immediately, as most of the codex hovered around Tier VIII, with only a handful pushing past it. This one wasn't buried at the end either. It was placed deliberately, as if the author believed it represented a proper threshold. A spell meant to separate dabblers from practitioners.
Aurelian's lips curved slightly.
"That'll do," he muttered.
He flipped through the pages until he found the section that belonged to the spell. And at the top, etched in precise script, was the spell's full designation.
Virtuous Lance
Tier X Light Manifestation Spell
Below it was a diagram of converging sigils, arranged in a narrow formation. The structure was simple at first glance, but the longer he looked, the more layers revealed themselves. Compression arrays. Purity filters. Directional intent woven directly into the spell's core.
Aurelian's expression sharpened.
"So that's how they stabilize it," he murmured.
The description explained that Virtuous Lance formed a spear of refined Light, generated from the caster's Aether manipulation.
Looking at the casting method, Aurelian quickly understood why this spell filtered out most magi.
Virtuous Lance required the caster to draw a precise formation, a narrow lattice of advanced runes layered on top of each other. Only after that could the caster pour Aether into it with extreme control, compressing Light until it took the form of a spear. The difficulty wasn't just in memorizing the symbols. It was in maintaining balance. One misaligned rune, one fluctuation in Aether flow, and the entire formation would collapse.
Most magi solved this problem in a crude but practical way. They inscribed the runic formation directly onto their arms or tools, using their bodies as permanent mediums. It saved time and reduced failure, but at the cost of flexibility and, often, sanity.
But Aurelian didn't need to worry about the runic formation. With his [Silent Spell-Casting] skill, he bypassed every medium required to form a spell, not just incantations. All that mattered now was balancing his Aether control and understanding the essence of the spell. That was where his increased Intelligence stat came into play.
He focused.
Not on memorizing runes, but on the intent behind them. Why the Light compressed instead of expanding. Why the spear remained stable instead of detonating. Why purity mattered. Slowly, the complexity unraveled. What once looked like chaos revealed a clean, elegant structure beneath it.
Time slipped by.
Thirty minutes passed without him noticing.
The shop was quiet. Lysander had stopped talking long ago. Even Heron, from behind the counter, found himself glancing over more than once, frowning slightly as Aurelian remained perfectly still, eyes locked on a single page.
Then it happened.
The final piece clicked into place.
A soft chime echoed in Aurelian's mind.
[Ding!