"Ahem..."
Alphonse immediately cleared his throat softly, trying to regain the remnants of his dignity that had just vanished. His hand moved quickly to adjust his monocle—an escapist gesture to hide the tips of his ears that were burning with embarrassment.
He glared at his two friends with a sharp gaze, attempting to turn the tables. "Why did you enter without knocking on the door?"
Hearing that reprimand, Arcus did not feel intimidated in the slightest. He crossed his arms over his chest, snorted softly, and pointed toward the wooden walls of the inn with his chin.
"These rooms are only separated by thin wooden planks, Alphonse," Arcus answered, stating simple logic. "Suddenly, in the dead of night, you are laughing out loud by yourself like a lunatic. What did you expect from us? To knock on the door and politely ask if you were possessed?"
Ignoring Arcus's sarcastic commentary, Vrischil stepped closer. The Elf's emerald eyes stared at Alphonse closely, scanning him from head to toe.
"Are you alright, Alphonse?" Vrischil asked in a calm tone that barely concealed her concern.
He had to ensure that Alphonse had not been hit by illusion magic, a mind poison, or a lethal curse that might have been rigged as a trap inside that magic parchment.
Alphonse drew a deep breath, letting his turbulent emotions subside. A faint smile, laden with ambition, formed on his lips.
"Come in, and shut the door tight," Alphonse commanded.
Once Vrischil ensured the door was locked, Alphonse pointed toward the wooden desk in the corner of the room. Beneath the glow of the crystal lamp, the [Tier 1 - Cleanse] scroll lay open.
There was no longer a large stamp depicting the Magic Tower dominating the center of the parchment. Instead, an intricate arrangement of magic circles and rune geometry was clearly displayed, laid bare for anyone to study.
Arcus stepped closer. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the paper for a few seconds, then looked back and forth between it and Alphonse's face.
"And... what?" Arcus asked with a flat tone and an innocent face. He completely failed to grasp the urgency or the brilliance of a piece of paper whose ink had slightly changed.
Alphonse turned to Vrischil, ignoring Arcus's idiocy.
"Your analysis in front of the display case earlier was correct, Vrischil. There is protective magic in this world deliberately placed to hide the original magic circles so they cannot be studied or dismantled by outsiders. And I have just succeeded in erasing it."
He paused for a moment, letting the tension in the room build so his words could sink in perfectly.
"I erased it using a new magic," Alphonse revealed, looking at his two friends in turn. "A native magic of this world, which never existed in the game Orion Online."
Vrischil's eyes widened slightly. her brain quickly grasped the massive implications of that statement: Alphonse had just learned magic from beyond the boundaries of the knowledge they previously possessed.
Meanwhile, Arcus still furrowed his brow. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"And... what?" Arcus asked again, his tone genuinely implying utter confusion. "You are a walking archive. It is normal that you can cast one extra cleaning spell, right?"
Alphonse's forehead twitched violently. His patience toward Arcus finally ran out.
"You idiot," Alphonse hissed sharply, nearly grinding his teeth. "I succeeded in casting this new magic without using Skill Points to learn it first!"
Thump.
That final sentence struck Arcus like a bolt of lightning. His eyes widened until they nearly popped out of their sockets. His mouth fell wide open as his brain finally managed to connect the logical dots.
"Ouuuuhhhhh!" Arcus screamed in excitement, quickly clamping his hands over his mouth upon realizing he was being too loud. He had finally grasped just how massive Alphonse's discovery was.
Vrischil took one step forward. her rationality worked at full speed, dissecting this new reality.
"So..." Vrischil murmured slowly, stringing together her conclusions. "We can freely master various new magic or combat abilities in this world... without being restricted by Skill Points like in the game?"
"Exactly," Alphonse answered firmly. "The game is destroyed. Its rules have vanished. There is no longer such a thing as a Skill Point limit, and there is no longer such a thing as a Skill Tree."
"We are no longer bound by system requirements that force us to unlock skills sequentially," Alphonse affirmed.
Vrischil's thoughts leapt far ahead, reaching a tactical scale far grander.
"Meaning, theoretically," the Elf continued, staring intently at Alphonse, "if I possess the incantation... I could directly learn the spatial manipulation magic [Tier S - Gate] without needing to waste time mastering lower-tier displacement magic like [Tier A - Teleportation] first?"
Alphonse nodded. "Theoretically, of course you can. If you possess sufficient comprehension to read its structure, there is no system that will forbid you from casting it."
However, amidst the euphoria of the shattered system boundaries, Alphonse swiftly delivered a slap of reality.
"But, there is a fatal price to be paid," Alphonse warned, his face turning incredibly serious. "In the game, when we allocated a point and unlocked a skill at Level 1, the system guaranteed that the spell would definitely fire when we cast it, regardless of how weak its effect or damage was."
He pointed toward the parchment on the table. "However, in the world of Orion, without the automatic assistance of the interface system... the failure rate becomes a very real threat."
Alphonse looked straight at Arcus and Vrischil, offering an admission that struck down his own ego as a form of severe warning.
"In this world, the use of magic or energy manipulation can fail completely if you have not fully mastered the structure of its magic circle," Alphonse asserted. "Losing focus even slightly will cancel everything. Your mana line will snap, or worse, blow up in your own hands."
Alphonse leaned back in his chair. "Even I... failed on my first attempt trying to cast [Tier 4 - Null Script] earlier, simply because I felt a little nervous. We are indeed free to learn anything now, but mastering it will require effort."
Alphonse's explanation brought a momentary silence into the room. The destruction of the game's laws was a double-edged sword. It granted freedom, yet demanded absolute precision over every flow of mana.
"There are consequences to failure," Alphonse looked at his two friends with a very serious expression. "I have not yet attempted to cast high-tier magic. But, when my attempt failed earlier, even though it was merely a utility spell, there was a mild shockwave that struck back at my mana flow."
He rested his elbows on the wooden desk. "In this world, I do not yet know how the reaction of failing to cast a high-tier spell would be... especially those related to spatial manipulation, or large-area attacks."
Alphonse looked straight at them, issuing a stern warning.
"I do not want you getting hurt as a result of experimenting blindly," Alphonse said with a softening tone. However, subconsciously, his gaze was fixed solely on Vrischil when he said the words 'do not want'.
Vrischil, the Elf who usually radiated an aura as cold as a blizzard and never flinched when facing a legion of monsters, suddenly froze stiff. her eyes widened slightly. The tips of her pointed Elf ears flushed slightly red, overpowering the natural pale hue of her skin.
A faint smile, so subtle it was almost invisible, painted her lips. Vrischil immediately lowered her face, trying to avoid eye contact with Alphonse to hide her suddenly racing heartbeat.
In the corner of the room, Arcus, who had been standing listening to the serious warning all this time, now felt like a third wheel in the middle of winter.
Arcus immediately clicked his tongue cynically. He mimicked Alphonse's tone of voice with a dramatic flair, intentionally exaggerated to ruin the moment.
"Tch," Arcus sneered, crossing his arms. "'I do not want you getting hurt...'."
Arcus sharpened his voice, glaring at Alphonse with a mocking look. "You had better change the word 'you plural' to 'you singular' if your eyes have only been looking at one person this whole time, Mr. Monocle."
Alphonse's ears instantly heated up hearing his best friend's mockery. He realized where his eyes had been glued earlier. To cover up the sudden awkwardness, Alphonse coughed loudly, clearing his throat.
"Wait a moment," Alphonse cut in quickly, refusing to entertain Arcus's teasing. He had to change the subject before his dignity crumbled for a second time tonight.
Alphonse closed his eyes. He centered his remaining concentration. The next second, when his eyelids opened, his golden irises emitted an incredibly bright glow, piercing the dimness of the room.
Seeing that glow, Arcus and Vrischil instantly reverted to serious mode. They realized Alphonse was using his ultimate ability once again.
In a fraction of a second, Alphonse's consciousness shot to the Akashic space. He did not linger; he only requested one structure from the Terminal: the arrangement of [Tier 3 - Magic Inscription].
As soon as the geometric pattern of that sealing magic was recorded perfectly in his brain, he immediately severed the connection.
The golden glow in Alphonse's eyes dimmed drastically. He exhaled a long, heavy breath. Cold sweat ran down his temples and neck.
His mana capacity had shrunk to its absolute lowest point as a result of using the Akashic Terminal repeatedly without adequate rest.
"Alphonse!" Vrischil reprimanded worriedly, seeing Alphonse's body slump slightly in the chair.
Ignoring the fatigue, Alphonse raised his right hand. He pointed his softly trembling index finger toward the parchment scroll that was now clear of the magic tower's logo.
With mental visualization, the air above the parchment vibrated instantly. For three seconds, lines of light assembled themselves in the air. Hundreds of runes locked together with precision, carving the complex geometric pattern of [Tier 3 - Magic Inscription].
Once the magic circle was formed perfectly and hovered stably, Alphonse opened his eyes. With a flick of his finger, he dropped the magic circle right onto the surface of the paper.
The golden light absorbed quickly into the parchment.
A new crest was printed boldly, a crest highly familiar to the three of them. The Pioneer Guild Logo.
It was an elegant carving of a compass, where the outer circle was formed by a row of intricate magic runes, while the directional needle in the center was a crossing of a sword and a staff.
Alphonse picked up the parchment scroll slowly, displaying the new stamp to his two comrades. A tired, yet victorious smile adorned his face.
"As you can see," Alphonse said hoarsely, placing the scroll back down. "I can not only erase their properties. I can replace them. From this second onward, we can produce, manipulate, and monopolize any Magic Scroll we desire in this world."
Seeing that achievement, Arcus cheered like a little child who had just been shown a toy store.
"UOOOOHH... Incredible!" Arcus exclaimed with sparkling eyes. "I want to master a new skill too! Alphonse, quickly find a list of lethal magic or archery skills in this world from your ability! I want to pick one to master tonight!"
Faced with that enthusiasm, Alphonse could only gently massage the throbbing bridge of his nose.
"Tomorrow," Alphonse answered weakly. "My mana is completely depleted. If I force it again, my life will be in danger."
But Arcus did not give up. "Oh come on, find a low-tier one, that's fine as long as I can try it before I go to sleep!" Arcus whined, destroying his image that was usually deadly.
Running out of patience watching his comrade's childish behavior, Vrischil immediately stood up.
Without saying a single word to Arcus, he stepped behind him, gripped the back collar of Arcus's black cloak tightly, and dragged him out of the room forcefully, completely ignoring his protests and struggles.
"Good night, Alphonse," Vrischil said politely with a calm tone, while still restraining Arcus with one hand outside the room. "Please rest."
She then shut the room door tightly.
Hearing the sound of Arcus's whining fading down the hallway, Alphonse could only lean his head back against the chair and reply with a tired smile.
While silence enveloped the Black Crow Inn, the atmosphere in the Noble District of Wealden City was far from peaceful.
A dark velvet-lined carriage engraved with the crest of a golden falcon sped through the night streets.