Chapter Twelve: The Coming-of-Age Ceremony

Andy felt truly blessed. Long ago, when he was an orphan struggling to study while working odd jobs, he never imagined he would be where he was today.

Now, he was not only the country’s foremost magician, with millions of fans, but he had also won the heart of the goddess he secretly admired during university. Today was his wedding day.

He had a secret, one he hadn't even shared with his new wife. In fact, he had returned from a world of wizards, and the magical arts he learned there became the foundation of his meteoric rise.

He had intended to take this secret to his grave. Yet the feeling of walking alone in splendor weighed heavily upon him. He decided that on their wedding night, he would share his secret with his wife—after all, his love for her ran deep.

“Darling, I want to tell you a secret,” he began.

“Sweetheart, I want to tell you a secret,” his wife’s voice echoed, perfectly synchronized with his.

“You go first,” he said.

“You go first,” she replied, again in unison.

“Fine, I’ll go first then,” his wife said with a playful laugh.

“Actually…” she suddenly became hesitant, her voice growing quieter. Andy leaned closer.

“Actually… I am Compson! Roar!” The beautiful girl’s head abruptly transformed into the pale, decaying visage of Compson, eyes wide, lunging at Andy with bared teeth—

Andy jolted upright, shaking his head vigorously, as if to fling away every memory of that absurd dream.

He glanced outside; dawn was breaking. With no intention of returning to sleep, he got out of bed.

This evening, he would hold his coming-of-age ceremony at the Phillips estate. Old Brown had arranged everything; Andy only needed to arrive on time.

After a cursory breakfast, Andy went to the meditation room to continue studying the Level 1 sorcery model, “Arrow of Fire.” Yesterday’s events had left him cautious. Had Bill not appeared, Andy would have faced Compson and John alone. The thought sent a chill through him. He had been lucky to kill Compson, but as the saying goes, “He who kills shall be killed.” Who could guarantee luck would favor him again? Only true strength could be relied upon.

Perhaps it was the lingering adrenaline, or perhaps his luck had not run out, but today Andy’s analysis of the Level 1 sorcery model proceeded unusually smoothly. His mind was clear, inspiration flowed, and puzzles that once baffled him now dissolved easily.

At last, he completed the analysis of the Level 1 sorcery, “Arrow of Fire,” and began simulating its construction within his spiritual space.

When a wizard attempts to formally construct a sorcery model, failure can cause severe backlash to their mental strength. Thus, before attempting construction, they repeatedly simulate the process in their spiritual space to ensure nothing goes awry.

Simulation involves the practitioner outputting only a trace amount of mental energy to build the sorcery model in their mind. If it fails, the damage is negligible. Through simulation, wizards assess their mastery and check for any gaps or errors.

After failing twice, Andy carefully reviewed his mistakes and refined his approach. On the third attempt, he succeeded.

Then came the fourth, the fifth—each a success.

Were it not for the hour, Andy would have locked himself away to formally construct the Level 1 sorcery model and advance to a mid-level wizard apprentice.

But today was not the right time. Two failed simulations had somewhat depleted his mental energy, and besides, he had to attend his coming-of-age ceremony. Formal construction demanded utmost precision; even a hundred successful simulations could not guarantee flawless execution. Wizards always ensure they are in peak condition for such tasks.

Of course, wizards with high-level mental strength achieve much greater success rates when constructing lower-level sorceries. But for spells of their own rank, caution is essential.

From records Andy had read and legends he’d heard, only knights broke through in battle, awakening their seeds of power. Wizards never advanced in combat, a difference rooted in their respective paths.

That afternoon, Andy arrived punctually at Mr. Phillips’s estate. Under Old Brown’s guidance, he donned an elaborate suit and joined Mr. Phillips at the entrance to greet guests.

Most guests were Mr. Phillips’s business associates and their families—people who, while exchanging pleasantries with Mr. Phillips, lavished praise upon Andy: handsome, promising, talented—even though none knew who Andy was before receiving the invitation.

Andy’s smile grew stiff, but finally the arrivals slowed. Then a few familiar faces appeared together: Bill, Elena, and Catherine, apprentices from the Wizard Tower.

Andy had heard from Old Brown that invitations had been sent to Wizard Stein and all his apprentices. Stein was busy and declined, Compson would obviously not attend, and as for Edward, Andy doubted he would come either.

“Andy, you look so dashing today! Truly a golden boy—ha!” Bill greeted him cheekily. If not for the crowd, Andy would have liked to set Bill’s trousers alight to show him what “angry birds” really meant.

Elena and Catherine were much more composed. They greeted Mr. Phillips politely and congratulated Andy. Catherine held her cat, Angel, who bared its claws at Andy.

At that moment, Jera—who had been helping Old Brown and Mrs. Phillips—ran out. Lightly made up and dressed in a white princess dress, she looked charming and delicate. She seemed to be checking if all the guests had arrived, exchanged glances with Bill, and warmly led Elena and Catherine into the estate.

Andy’s coming-of-age ceremony proceeded as planned. Mr. Phillips, the host, introduced the history of the Charles family in operatic tones, giving special attention to Andy’s father, Sir Charles. Then, before the assembled witnesses, he declared Andy Charles officially an adult, henceforth the head of the Charles family.

After Andy thanked Mr. Phillips for hosting and the guests for attending, the ceremony moved to its next phase: “A Man of Victoria Must Conquer the Sea.”

Andy had always found this name amusing. In Dallas City, unless one had traveled to the royal capital, most people had never seen the sea. He wondered how this tradition had persisted for generations.

Despite the grand name, the ritual simply required Andy to take a deep breath and immerse his face in a basin of water, with Mr. Phillips timing him.

When Andy finally lifted his head for air, Mr. Phillips announced loudly, “Two minutes forty seconds!” The guests cheered, for the average adult in Victoria managed barely over a minute. Andy owed his impressive performance to his near-knight physique.

Again, as tradition dictated, the guests showered Andy with compliments. Afterward, Mr. Phillips announced the start of the coming-of-age ball. By custom, Andy would invite his partner for the first dance.

Scanning the hall, Andy noticed Jera was missing. He recalled Mrs. Phillips instructing Jera to be Andy’s dance partner, and Jera’s confident promise to do so. Andy shook his head, grateful he had prepared a backup plan.

He walked over to the twin-tailed girl chatting with Elena—Catherine.

“My lady, may I have the honor of this dance with you?” Andy bowed slightly to Catherine. She was unsurprised, gracefully taking his arm and leading him to the dance floor.

As the music began, Andy and Catherine, much shorter than he, danced slowly. Other guests invited partners and joined them. Jera reappeared in the dance with Bill. Mr. Phillips, observing all, exchanged a helpless glance with his wife before leading her onto the floor as well.

“You wicked senior, how will you thank me for this favor?” After the dance, Catherine pulled Andy into a corner, giving him a sly, merchant-like grin.

“I’ll treat you to a feast tomorrow, how about that?” Andy was genuinely grateful. He had told Catherine earlier he might ask her to be his partner for the first dance, and she had agreed without hesitation.

“Hmph! Don’t try to placate me like a child. If you’re truly grateful, give me a magic stone!” Catherine’s delicate hand waved before Andy.

“Uh… Magic stone? I don’t have any, and even if I did, a favor this small hardly merits a magic stone. How about I give you a goldfish instead?” Andy let out a laugh that made Catherine shiver.

Fortunately, Catherine did not understand the implication of Andy’s laugh. She insisted Andy had recently received ten magic stones from his mentor and was now rich.

Andy was surprised—he had no idea how Catherine knew his mentor had given him magic stones. Yet no matter how he tried to coax her, she wouldn’t say. She only claimed she had many secrets for sale: minor secrets for one stone, medium secrets for two, major secrets for five. She repeatedly stressed payment must come first.

Andy took it as a child’s jest. In his previous life, at Catherine’s age, one would just have finished primary school. Her so-called secrets were probably things like, “Who got scared by yesterday’s prank?”

Despite Andy’s repeated claims of having no magic stones, Catherine wouldn’t listen. So “wicked senior” became “stingy senior.” When Catherine stormed off to find Elena, Andy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Unreasonable—your name is woman,” Andy mused, shaking his head, his mischievous smile lingering.

At that moment, Andy failed to notice that Bill, having just finished a dance with Jera, received a note from a maid. Bill’s face changed dramatically as he read it, and, grabbing Jera, he hurried out…