Got Time?

Zelier glanced back at the mustached man, feeling more and more that the fellow had the face of a dishonest merchant. Four gold coins? Did he take him for an idiot? Even a Heavy Pressure magic scroll of the finest quality would never fetch such a price. He probably figured all mages were loaded and ripe for the slaughter. "Fifty silver coins," Zelier offered casually. "What?!" The mustached man's voice instantly turned shrill. "Fifty silver coins? Young master, you've got to be joking! Fifty silver wouldn't even buy the parchment, let alone a magic scroll!" "You know as well as I do that it's just a magic scroll, not some family heirloom. Its quality is mediocre at best, and the spell structure left by the engraver isn't very clear. Don't tell me you didn't know." Zelier said calmly, "I imagine you've already had other mages appraise it, haven't you?" The expression on the mustached man's face stiffened. "St-Still, you can't slash the price like that! Fifty silver is completely out of the question. I can bring it down to three gold coins for you." "One gold coin," Zelier replied, deadpan. "One gold coin is way too low!" The mustached man shook his head. "Two gold and fifty silver. That's my bottom line." "At most, I'll pay one gold and twenty silver." "Two gold coins! Deal? Two gold coins—that's already a huge bargain!" "Then you'd better keep it for someone else." Once again, Zelier turned and walked away without the slightest hesitation. "One gold and fifty silver! I can't go any lower!" The mustached man gritted his teeth and blurted out his final offer. "Not a single copper lower!" Zelier paused in his tracks. He currently had three gold and twelve silver on him. Spending one gold and fifty silver on a scroll... Fair enough. That was acceptable. "Deal." With the newly purchased Heavy Pressure scroll tucked in his pocket, Zelier made his way to the outskirts where he usually practiced magic. Unrolling the slightly yellowed parchment scroll, he found it completely blank. Zelier channeled his mental power into it. A faint shimmer rippled across his skin, and the parchment responded in turn, giving off a soft glow. The secrets hidden within the scroll flung their doors wide open, and a brand-new spell structure flooded into Zelier's sea of consciousness. From the input interface to the mana conduits, then the acceleration circuit... and the guidance runes... Just as he had noted earlier, the magic scroll's quality was hardly impressive. The engraver's craftsmanship was clearly unrefined, leaving many parts of the spell structure blurred and indistinct. Anyone else might have needed to spend an immense amount of energy studying and deciphering it for a week or two just to reconstruct it. Fortunately, Zelier had Formula Deduction; minor issues where only portions of the spell structure were unclear were resolved in no time. After a mere ten minutes or so, the spell structure of Heavy Pressure took clear shape within Zelier's sea of consciousness, bringing the number of spells in his repertoire up to six. The faint glow on the scroll faded away, reducing it to an ordinary sheet of scrap paper. "Phew... Heavy Pressure." Zelier clenched his hand. "Let's see what it can do." However, casting a spell like this into empty air made it difficult to gauge its effectiveness. Zelier scanned his surroundings and spotted a bird perched on a high branch nearby. The distance gave the bird a sufficient sense of safety; it tilted its head, watching Zelier beneath the tree, clueless as to what he was doing. *You'll do...* Zelier picked his target. After a brief moment of channeling, Heavy Pressure unleashed! *Bang!* The bird sensed something amiss and was just about to spread its wings and take flight when an invisible force abruptly erupted! The Heavy Pressure guided by Zelier released a downward burst of magical force. The finger-thick branch snapped instantly, and the bird plummeted from the air, crashing stiffly to the ground. "Whoa..." Zelier was a little surprised. The effect was actually pretty good. Once the channeling was complete, the release was instantaneous. An enemy would find it virtually impossible to dodge—utterly unavoidable. While it lacked lethal power, such a brief slowing effect could very well work wonders in the heat of battle, perhaps even turning the tables on a losing fight. *** Over the next few days, Zelier spent his time constantly practicing magic, striving to fully digest his four-point increase in Intelligence. "Fireball!" *Boom!* A brilliant fireball sprang from his palm and plunged straight into the river, hissing up a plume of white smoke. By now, Zelier had grown quite adept at handling these Tier Two spells. In addition, the analysis progress for Flowing Mist Veil had reached 52%, while Arcane Missile stood at 64%. Both spells would still require some time before their analysis was complete. Yet one matter continued to puzzle Zelier. Despite gaining four points of Intelligence, his bare-handed casting speed had barely improved, remaining stubbornly stuck at just over four seconds. Every time Zelier attempted to optimize the spell structure, he failed, as though an unseen hurdle was barring his way. After analyzing it from several angles, Zelier deduced a conclusion. Increasing an attribute didn't reduce casting time every single time. A mage's growth curve was tiered rather than linear. Only when Intelligence reached a specific threshold could the spell structure be optimized once more. The question was, what exactly was that threshold? It seemed he would need to take on more quests and level up further. *** Early morning. The Red Beard Inn. Marcus sat on the edge of the bed and opened his leather tool kit, which held two rectangular whetstones and a small jar of thick maintenance grease. In the faint morning light, the patterns on the blade were clearly visible, along with lingering traces of dark crimson. Marcus sat quietly for a moment before picking up a damp strip of linen. He wiped down the surface inch by inch. Once it was clean, he took the two grey whetstones and began sharpening the blade. *Scritch... scritch...* The grinding sound was slightly grating as tiny iron filings rustled down. Under Marcus's meticulous honing, the edge's lines smoothed out once more, restoring its rightful sharpness. Marcus began oiling the warblade. The grease was spread evenly across every inch of the blade. Not only did it keep the steel from rusting in damp environments, but it also made drawing the weapon smoother. And when the blade bit into an enemy, it could slice through flesh and blood like silk. Once the entire process was finished, Marcus tested the edge with his thumb, thoroughly satisfied with this round of maintenance. Just then, a knock suddenly sounded at the door. *Knock, knock...* "Come in," Marcus said, sheathing his blade. The wooden door opened, and Zelier stepped inside. "Hey," Zelier greeted him. "Got time? Want to head to the Adventurers' Association and pick up a quest together?" The answer was no surprise. "Of course," Marcus smiled. Before heading to the Adventurers' Association, Marcus and Zelier took a detour to check in at the inn where Vallis was staying. As it turned out, he was free as well. Faced with their invitation, Vallis agreed without hesitation. After their previous few quests, Vallis had grown quite comfortable with this party.