Chapter Seventy-Five: Reflection and Starting Anew

Andy's life at the academy had begun.

His greatest concern now was how to resolve his low efficiency in meditation. After attending a few paid courses, he learned of a way to rapidly increase his mental strength: the use of a potion to assist with meditation.

It was a potion known as the Clarity Draught, a far more potent meditative aid than the Calming Decoction he had taken when first studying sorcery—by a hundredfold. Of course, the price was just as vastly different: the Clarity Draught cost thousands of times more than the Calming Decoction, requiring over a hundred magic stones for just one bottle.

Between the outer academy of Grimm and the Hybrid Institute, there was a small plaza. Here, apprentice sorcerers specializing in secondary professions often set up stalls, and over time, it had become a little marketplace.

It was in this market that Andy purchased a bottle of Clarity Draught. Upon trying it, the results were remarkable—he could clearly feel the growth in his mental strength. Though he was still far from the standard of a Bronze Sorcerer, this nonetheless allowed the talent-poor Andy to glimpse a ray of hope.

Unable to resist, he bought two more bottles to aid his meditation. Though the effect was somewhat diminished compared to the first use, he could still sense a marked increase in his mental power.

But now a problem arose: Andy was running low on magic stones. So he began to search for other ways, besides potions, to quickly boost his mental strength.

From the student handbook, Andy learned that a teacher from the inner academy would soon be giving a lecture—precisely on various methods to assist apprentices with meditation. However, lessons from inner academy instructors were much more expensive than those from the outer academy.

After a month of classes and potion purchases, Andy had less than two hundred magic stones left. He was reluctant to bear such costly course fees any longer.

So Andy came up with an idea: he would have his kitten, Catherine, disguise herself as the pet of a student attending the class, sneak in with them, and later relay the content of the lecture back to him.

Unexpectedly, on Catherine’s very first attempt, the inner academy teacher threw her out.

It turned out that every paying student bore a magical mark from the instructor. Some apprentices did bring pets to class, but their animals were marked as well. An unmarked Catherine stood out in the classroom like a firefly in the dark.

In fact, this ruse had long been tried by others. Apprentice sorcerers had their ways of making pets comprehend human speech, and with their eccentric creativity, all manner of bizarre pets had appeared. Thus, even a fly or mosquito without a mark would draw the special attention of an experienced teacher.

Foiled once, Andy devised another plan. In his spatial pouch was a sound eavesdropping device Catherine had acquired from Bill. Seizing a moment when the classroom was empty before the lecture, Andy installed the device in an inconspicuous corner.

But as soon as the teacher began, the ruby on the ring he wore on his left hand blared a piercing alarm!

Hearing the sound, Andy knew things had gone awry. He hurriedly packed away the receiver and waited anxiously at his lodgings, but no one came to accuse him. He let out a long sigh of relief.

The next day, however, Andy found a white slip pasted to the villa’s gate—bearing the bold title “Fine!”

The notice stated that Andy had deliberately disrupted classroom order and, due to the gravity of the offense, was fined one hundred magic stones, to be paid within three days at a designated location.

The fine bore the seal of the Discipline Office of Grimm Academy—a name Andy knew well. This department managed campus discipline and security, its headquarters located not in the outer academy but in the inner, overseeing all three branches. Due to its unique function, students of all three academies spoke of it with trepidation.

Lacking the means to defy the Discipline Office, Andy had no choice but to pay the fine—after all, he had indeed been caught exploiting a loophole and was willing to accept the consequences.

But this brought a new problem: after paying the fine, Andy had less than a hundred magic stones left. He urgently needed to find a way to earn more.

Having been steeped in all manner of fantasy games on Earth, Andy quickly realized that earning money as a primary profession sorcerer was nearly impossible at this stage; one had to pursue a secondary profession. If Bill had come to the capital, his alchemical skills would surely have earned him a fortune in magic stones.

Thus, Andy decided to learn a secondary profession. Here, the outer academy of Grimm had finally done something not entirely exploitative: after paying the tuition for the outer academy, one could take basic secondary profession courses at the Hybrid Institute free of charge.

Of course, the more advanced courses still required payment. But Andy was satisfied with just the basics—for now, a complete novice in secondary professions.

In fact, Andy’s original mentor, Stein, was quite accomplished as an apothecary. However, when Andy’s predecessor studied with him, he hadn’t even reached the level of an apprentice sorcerer, so there was no question of learning potion-making. Even mentioning it to Stein would simply earn a stern warning to focus on meditation and not be distracted.

The secondary professions at Grimm’s Hybrid Institute centered on potion-making, alchemy, runes, and sorcery arrays.

Potion-making, as the name suggests, involved identifying herbs and concocting various magical elixirs. Alchemy studied the properties of materials and the crafting of magical jewelry, strange alchemical devices, and rare treasures. Rune studies explored the meanings and combinations of runes, as well as the creation of rune-imbued equipment. Sorcery array studies were even more complex, requiring knowledge of material properties, runic lore, sorcery models, mathematics, elemental characteristics, and even geography and topography. It focused on the study of all manner of magical arrays.

After scouting the Hybrid Institute a few times, Andy began to frequent it daily, attending every free secondary profession lecture he could. He listened to courses on potion-making, alchemy, runes, and sorcery arrays alike.

As he listened, Andy began to notice a problem: he understood each sentence the instructors spoke, but when he tried to piece them together, he couldn’t grasp the overall meaning. This wasn’t limited to a single subject, but occurred in every class. Andy possessed a soul talent for “enhanced memory,” so even days later, he could recall every detail of each lesson.

But what good was remembering knowledge he couldn’t comprehend? Andy was certain that, attempting to brew potions or craft rune equipment with such a patchy understanding, he would fail again and again.

Records he’d read called enhanced memory the “apprentice’s friend,” of immense help to sorcerer apprentices. Yet in his own magical studies, Andy had rarely felt this talent’s benefit. Every time he learned a new spell, it was only with Catherine’s patient, painstaking explanations that he succeeded in constructing the sorcery model.

This led Andy to reflect: was his magical aptitude truly so poor? He accepted his low innate mental strength and inefficient meditation, but how could he fail to understand magical knowledge that most apprentices grasped with ease? Was he simply unintelligent? Andy could not, under any circumstances, accept that!

After much analysis and introspection, Andy arrived at a possible answer.

The crux likely lay in his identity as a transmigrant, not a native of this world of sorcery.

All his understanding of magic was built upon inherited memories from his predecessor. He had never been subtly influenced by magical knowledge during his formative years, nor had he spent years meditating daily to sense magical particles. He hadn’t been steeped in the history, culture, or customs of the sorcerous world.

He was, in essence, like a foreigner who had learned Chinese and thought it was authentic, but the moment he spoke, any native could tell he had a strange, unmistakable accent.

In short, Andy’s foundation in magical knowledge was shaky.

Realizing this, Andy resolved to cast aside the influence of inherited memories—after all, knowledge gained from books is always shallow; true understanding comes from personal experience.

He decided to treat himself as someone with no prior exposure to magical knowledge, to start from the very beginning and relearn the basics, laying a solid foundation for his magical studies.

Fortunately, basic courses in magical theory at the Grimm Outer Academy were free. So, early the next morning, Andy took his notebook and eagerly made his way to the “Introduction to Magical Theory” classroom.

But as soon as he entered, he was dumbfounded!

The classroom was filled with thirty or forty children, eight or nine years old, buzzing excitedly about their favorite topics. As Andy walked in, the children fell silent, all pairs of pure, curious eyes fixed on him. Suddenly, he heard a clear voice:

“Stand up!”

Swish! All the children sprang to their feet and chorused in unison, “Good morning, teacher!”

The scene took Andy completely by surprise. Unable to help himself, he replied, “Good morning, classmates!”

An awkward silence descended on the classroom, broken only when Andy recovered his composure and realized what he was seeing was perfectly normal.

After all, magical meditation required a certain degree of mental strength, so children only began studying it at a certain age. Yet parents, not wanting their children to fall behind, were eager to expose them to magical knowledge as early as possible. Thus, eight or nine was the optimal age for children to begin learning the basics, laying a foundation for future magical study.

With this in mind, Andy felt no embarrassment at all. He waved for the children to sit down and explained that he wasn’t their teacher, but a student just like them.

He ignored the bewildered children, made his way to the last row, and sat in an empty seat.

At once, the children in the last row leapt up as if their seats were on fire, scrambling for seats closer to the front. The two children in front of Andy quickly moved as well, and when one found himself without a seat, he squeezed in with another.

In no time at all, a semicircular no-man’s land had cleared around Andy…