Robb set the booklet down, his heart pounding with excitement.
Advancing from elementary to intermediate apprentice within three years? That might be a significant challenge for the average person, but for someone like him—who possessed a class system and multiple synergistic professions—it felt almost too easy.
He continued reading, eager to learn more about the advancement system.
"The formal ceremony for advancing to a full-fledged wizard is called the 'Gate Opening'. Each candidate must complete a trial and undergo a highly dangerous cerebral awakening ritual under a mentor's supervision."
"This ritual requires a specially crafted 'Key' potion as its medium, and the recipe is strictly confidential—known only to a few professors within the academy."
"I see..." Robb murmured to himself.
This explained the intense competition among upper apprentices—each eligible candidate was fighting over scarce resources and limited opportunities.
The unspoken rivalry between Hugo and Oliver now made far more sense: both were approaching the threshold of becoming senior apprentices and eager to earn a place in the next tier.
The booklet also detailed the differing levels of privileges and benefits across apprentice ranks, and Robb was overwhelmed by the contrast:
Elementary apprentices could only access public laboratories, with tightly restricted time limits each month.
Intermediate apprentices could apply for their own research space.
Senior apprentices? They might be granted their own private wizard towers.
And the disparity in resource allocation was staggering. A senior apprentice's monthly base income in magic crystals was more than ten times that of an elementary apprentice—and this number multiplied even more for those in the Reserve Wizard Track.
"So class hierarchy exists everywhere, huh..." Robb smiled to himself. "But at least now there's a clear path upward."
He turned to the next section, "Apprentice Duties and Privileges," and his expression grew more serious.
According to the rules, as an elementary apprentice, he was required to complete a set number of potion-making tasks each month, which he would submit to the academy.
The specific quantity and type would vary depending on his personal skills and specialization.
In addition, he had to regularly participate in public maintenance tasks or carry out certain field assignments.
In return, the academy would provide basic living necessities and access to essential resources—housing, food, use of public facilities, and a small monthly allowance of magic crystals.
The booklet also noted that apprentices could earn extra crystals or academic credits by completing additional tasks or donating rare materials. These credits could be used to purchase paid courses offered by the academy.
"Paid courses?" Robb raised an eyebrow.
He quickly flipped to the relevant section and discovered an extensive catalogue—courses ranging from basic "Mental Control Techniques" to advanced "Principles of Energy Transmutation," covering nearly every aspect of wizardry.
These courses were tiered by difficulty, with prices ranging from a few shards to several full magic stones.
What truly captured Robb's interest, however, was the section at the back titled "Mentorship System."
"In the academy system, apprentices with mentors receive significant advantages and privileges. Beyond regular monthly one-on-one instruction, they gain priority access to the mentor's research findings and may even participate in experimental spell modification."
"However, formal wizards are highly selective when choosing apprentices, typically requiring a display of extraordinary talent or the provision of rare research materials. Those who wish to secure a mentor should focus on increasing their value to attract attention."
Robb closed the booklet and took a deep breath.
"Advancing to intermediate apprentice within three years, entering the Reserve Wizard Track…" he quietly repeated the goal.
With the advantages provided by his system and multi-class synergy, that goal seemed well within reach.
But the real challenge would come afterward—how would he distinguish himself among countless other geniuses and earn the coveted attention of a formal wizard?
Robb walked to the window and gazed out over the Black Mist Forest.
Night had deepened, but the eerie halos swirling over the forest canopy remained visible—like countless eyes, silently watching.
Deep within the Black Mist Forest, inside a tall tower, Oliver stood by the window, holding a freshly delivered intelligence report.
"Robb Reyne. Has successfully passed the elementary apprentice qualification…"
He tapped his pale, slender fingers against the window frame, calculating.
"He passed months earlier than I expected."
The room inside the tower was lavishly decorated, yet saturated with an eerie, disturbing aura.
Human skins—meticulously preserved—hung from the walls, each frozen with the final expression of its original owner. Some showed terror, others pain, but most bore an incomprehensible void of confusion and despair.
At the center of the room lay a dismembered corpse strapped to a ritual table, riddled with tubes and rune-etched needles.
Though humanoid in shape, the body was clearly pieced together from various sources—one arm longer than the other, the head oversized for its torso, with rough stitchwork marking where neck met shoulders.
Next to it lay a newly delivered cadaver—Darude, now fully mutated and deceased.
His grotesquely swollen brain had been carefully removed and preserved in a special solution.
Oliver set the report aside and approached the jar containing Darude's brain, gently caressing the exposed tissue. A trace of frustration and regret flickered in his eyes.
"Look at this, Amanda," he whispered to the lifeless body beside him. "It was supposed to be a perfect mutated brain, but Robb ruined it too soon."
The corpse named Amanda, of course, didn't respond—but Oliver didn't seem to care.
"Everything was going according to plan," he muttered. "The dose of mental catalyst was precisely calculated. I made sure Darude found the correct formula... He should've maintained rationality longer before complete transformation."
He rapped the table in irritation.
"If not for Robb's interference, Darude would've fully transformed into a terrifying aberrant entity—strong enough to challenge even a senior apprentice."
Walking back to the window, his expression turned cold and calculating.
"It was a flawless plan. The other candidates would've cowered in fear, hiding in their rooms. Hugo would've rushed in, unprepared, only to face a powerful, mutated monster."
"If Hugo had been seriously injured—or even tainted by the sound-based attacks—I would've easily outpaced him in the Reserve Wizard selection."
As he spoke, Oliver picked up a syringe filled with dark red fluid and gently injected it into Amanda's lifeless veins.
"But fortunately, even if the plan was disrupted, it wasn't a total loss," he comforted himself. "I still have Darude's brain."
The corpse jerked violently. Its eyes flew open, mouth gaping in a silent scream—eyes filled with inhuman pain and terror, as though experiencing something unspeakable.
"Patience, Amanda," Oliver's voice was calm, even gentle.
"You're assimilating Darude's cognitive structure. If it succeeds, you'll be my thirteenth masterpiece."
He returned to the window and picked up the report again, eyes gleaming with hunger.
"Robb Reyne—from a worthless six-star failure, to a stable, qualified apprentice…"
Oliver gently ran a finger across his own cheek, tracing a faint, nearly invisible suture.
He walked to a cabinet and opened it.
Inside were rows of glass jars—each containing a preserved brain, etched with bizarre runes.
"That boy isn't ordinary… To kill a transforming aberration with nothing but a wooden sword?"
Oliver's eyes shone with fanatical fervor.
"If he really has some kind of rare awakening or special gift… then he might be the final piece I need to ascend to a true wizard."
A horrifying smile crept across his face.
"Patience. I need patience. Prey is easiest to catch when it's at its most relaxed."