The players’ bodies were locked in meditation, frozen like sculptures adorning the halls of a museum. Fast forward a few hours, and they hadn’t even moved an inch. Everything seemed to be progressing as it should, devoid of any apparent issues.
Confusion etched across Victor’s face as he tried to find any anomaly he might’ve missed, but to no avail. “So, what exactly is the problem?”
“Just wait.”
Shortly thereafter, one of the bodies abruptly stirred, breaking the motionless position. The figure rose and glided to the exit with his eyes closed, disappearing into the bathroom, a segment of the recording tactfully skipped. Upon returning, the unconscious body resumed his meditation, seamlessly integrating this interruption into their practice.
A shiver ran down Victor’s spine as he uttered in a shaking voice, “Eh… It’s creepy, alright! I bet this is one of the shenanigans the previous headmaster had engineered. If I bump into one of them in the dead of night… That’ll be really disturbing.”
“Agreed.” Lizbeth interjected, her tone thoughtful, “But consider this — isn’t this arrangement advantageous both for you and the players? It allows their unconscious bodies to maintain a semblance of normal living, ensuring that extended periods of inactivity won’t pose concerns. It’s like a safety net.”
“Right…” Victor nodded, his unease gradually disappearing; he’d walked the path of Magus for years and climbed thus far by seeing strange and supernatural phenomena. This kind of scene could be considered normal and unassuming.
Furthermore, this safeguard indeed presented a practical solution to potential issues arising from players’ prolonged absence. Yet, a lingering question stirred in his mind: How would their unconscious bodies respond if they encountered a threat?
“Anyways, this is nothing to be worried about. Maybe once the acolyte dorms are up and running, each player can have their own private room,” Victor concluded thoughtfully.
This would solve some of the problems, but food might spoil sooner or later, and bringing them into the dorms felt inappropriate. He contemplated the situation further, pondering on potential solutions. While alchemical substitutes for food existed, Victor lacked the expertise of an Alchemist and the necessary recipes. One thing was for sure; this might’ve become one of the focal focuses when the “Alchemy Hall” was unlocked.
“Still, I never knew that the System had a recording function and could record things in real time… Did you happen to record the lecture I gave yesterday?”
Lizbeth’s response carried a hint of mischievousness. “Hehe, sorry. I forgot to activate the recording during that lecture.”
Victor was not one to be petty over small matters and said, “Well then, just remember to do so next time.”
The prospect of recording lectures had promising implications. These recordings could be preserved and distributed to players for review, potentially alleviating the need for repetitive classes on specific subjects. It was a development that could foster efficient learning among the acolytes.
“Okie!” She smiled and perched herself on Victor’s shoulder as usual.
As night almost settled on Earth, the imminent return of the players lingered in the air. Due to the late initiation of the new incubations, however, the next batch of players could only access the game the following morning.
Thoughts of these players and their progress suddenly piqued Victor’s curiosity. He cast his gaze around the holographic screen, navigating its interface to access relevant information. Notably, the players possessed subordinary Shadowlink Marks; this meant that their details should be accessible within the System for Victor to see.
And soon enough, Victor came across the section labeled “Academy Inhabitant List.” Within this tab lay a comprehensive compilation of players who had previously logged into the game and even himself, each accompanied by their own status screen. He then proceeded to open the status screens of all the players and compared their rate of progression.
“Whoa, this is an absurd level of progress!” Victor exclaimed, taken aback by the exponential growth depicted before him.
Despite variations in their inherent aptitudes, even the individuals with the least favorable aptitude showed a commendable progress of 4 percent. In stark contrast, the player possessing an inferior bright-grade aptitude boasted an astonishing 10 percent advancement in their meditation technique. Victor couldn’t help but calculate on the side that, at this pace, the fastest among them would reach the first-stage Initiate Attunement in a mere ten days. All without expending a single mana crystal!
Lizbeth, who had been observing alongside Victor, chimed in with an air of nonchalance, “Why with the surprise? These players have been engaged in rigorous activities during the day, and their evenings have been dedicated to nourishing meals. On top of that, they’ve been practicing meditation ceaselessly, thanks to the mechanics of the gaming capsule.”
Usually, the journey from a mortal to an official Magus was an arduous, multifaceted process that depended on an individual’s innate talent, dedication, and the resources at their disposal. On average, for individuals with glimmering-grade mana aptitudes, the timeline for this progression could span from a minimum of two to as long as ten years or even longer.
“Makes sense…” Victor concurred, acknowledging the significant difference in circumstances with a perfunctory nod.
But still, this meant that he could have an army of Initiate Attunement acolytes in less than a month. What would happen if they were provided with superior resources and an optimal environment for growth? Just imagining that caused his body to shiver with excitement…
With a little more than half an hour remaining, Victor opted to use it to refine some of the elixir that still lingered within his body and get ready for the day.
***
“Whoa! Guys, check out the new status screen. We finally have HP and MP bars! The game developers do listen to our queries!” exclaimed the first player who logged in to the game — Storm.
“Mm, the merit points are also shown in numbers here.” Zero signaled his agreement with a nod and added, “I see that I have sixty-one points. Not bad.”
“More importantly, I truly am the chosen one in this game! Don’t you see that 10 percent meditation progress? I’ll be the first prodigal true acolyte in this game!” Prominence struck a triumphant pose that screamed, “Look at me, I’m amazing!”
“Shuck! This game’s as uneven as my ex’s emotional rollercoaster,” Storm complained, wearing a glum expression. “My aptitude’s scraping the bottom of the barrel, and my progress is like a snail’s pace... Am I doomed to be the game’s snail? Can I reroll?”
“Welp, I don’t think that’s possible according to the wiki, not that you will be left behind by how much of an expert and competitive you’re in a game,” Zero rationalized.
“Relax! What Boss Zero said is correct. Even if you’re at the back of the talent line, I won’t ditch you, okay? We’re in this together, no matter how terribly you rank.”
“Get lost, man.” Storm pushed Prominence away from him.
“You’re still lucky. I’ve got the Umbra and Necro elemental affinities. At this rate, won’t I become a dark Magus, unlike the rest of you guys?” SuperNova added, his tone tinged with genuine concern.
“Hahaha! Dude, what’s wrong with being the spooky magician of the bunch?” Mike let out a hearty laugh. “Who knows, you might unlock a hidden class like ‘Necromancer’ or something and end up leading an army of skeletons, zombies, and who could forget, a bunch of friendly ghosts!”
“Eep! Piss off! That’s the last thing I want to deal with!”
“Ahem.” Victor’s cough cut through the players’ lively conversation — he’d been standing nearby ever since the players logged in. Perhaps it was because he had used his identity as the promotional manager of the game to chat with them about the amity setting last night, but the five players’ eyes were even more respectful than ever before.
For their sense of immersion, Victor decided to utilize his already-established image of majesty for his own use and declared in a serious tone, “The sands of time are slipping away. Sooner or later, those pesky enemies of old will discover us. In anticipation of their potential hostile actions against our academy, urgency becomes our ally. We must swiftly bolster our defenses to safeguard our haven. The missions that demand attention have been compiled on your Shadowlink Marks. I implore you to peruse them diligently.”
““Understood, Headmaster!”” The response was unanimous, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up the players’ faces as they promptly accessed their missions.
While it might sound like he had made this up, what Victor said was grounded in truth, however. The possibility that his “comrades-turned-enemies” would come back to this forest could not be dismissed. The artifact that had driven the wedge of betrayal between them held the key to an ancient civilization’s ruins from before the Dark Era. It was plausible that they would return to this very forest with a formidable force, driven by the prospect of exploring the ruins and claiming the hidden treasures.
With his instructions imparted, Victor sent these players out to do their tasks. The plowing of the agricultural area was not yet finished, so the players were eager to wrap it up first before tackling new challenges.
Meanwhile, Victor ventured deep into the west of the Thornwood Forest to finish the main mission while engaging in the hunt for some large magical game (magical beasts). Their carcasses were not only useful for essence points but also useful in enhancing the efficacy of their meditation progress. This two-fold benefit propelled Victor forward as he navigated the forest’s depths.
***
The sun was already sitting high in the sky when Victor came back to the academy. Nestled within his interspatial ring was a Thornback Boar, while being carried by his hand was another juvenile Mossback Turtle. Thornback Boars, as the name suggested, were huge boars with sharp, long, thorn-like growths on their back and were native magical beasts of the Thornwood Forest. They were aggressive and territorial, possessing similar combat capability to that of a second-stage Initiate Attunement, and one had attacked Victor when he encroached upon its territory but was swiftly dispatched by him.
Unfortunately, there were no indications of the whereabouts of the elusive last natural resource that could be found — all signs led to the heart of the Thornwood Forest, which was dangerous beyond comparison. Victor’s intuition warned him of an imminent, life-threatening danger that lay hidden within, so he had no choice but to explore there later.
In any case, he was going to process the turtle into the essence converter while keeping the boar for its meat and other materials. But butchering turned out to be a problem; he could do simple cooking, but dismantling large creatures was beyond him. Sure, there was the set of kitchen knives he’d gotten, but…
“Duh, I should have thought ahead and chosen a player with the skills of a butcher or cook.” Victor held his head in regret. “Well, it’s not too late to rectify this situation.”
All he had to do was to select the capable individual in the next batch. Or if luck was on his side, there might be one with the requisite expertise among the group of players on the next day.
Only time could tell…
The players’ bodies were locked in meditation, frozen like sculptures adorning the halls of a museum. Fast forward a few hours, and they hadn’t even moved an inch. Everything seemed to be progressing as it should, devoid of any apparent issues.
Confusion etched across Victor’s face as he tried to find any anomaly he might’ve missed, but to no avail. “So, what exactly is the problem?”
“Just wait.”
Shortly thereafter, one of the bodies abruptly stirred, breaking the motionless position. The figure rose and glided to the exit with his eyes closed, disappearing into the bathroom, a segment of the recording tactfully skipped. Upon returning, the unconscious body resumed his meditation, seamlessly integrating this interruption into their practice.
A shiver ran down Victor’s spine as he uttered in a shaking voice, “Eh… It’s creepy, alright! I bet this is one of the shenanigans the previous headmaster had engineered. If I bump into one of them in the dead of night… That’ll be really disturbing.”
“Agreed.” Lizbeth interjected, her tone thoughtful, “But consider this — isn’t this arrangement advantageous both for you and the players? It allows their unconscious bodies to maintain a semblance of normal living, ensuring that extended periods of inactivity won’t pose concerns. It’s like a safety net.”
“Right…” Victor nodded, his unease gradually disappearing; he’d walked the path of Magus for years and climbed thus far by seeing strange and supernatural phenomena. This kind of scene could be considered normal and unassuming.
Furthermore, this safeguard indeed presented a practical solution to potential issues arising from players’ prolonged absence. Yet, a lingering question stirred in his mind: How would their unconscious bodies respond if they encountered a threat?
“Anyways, this is nothing to be worried about. Maybe once the acolyte dorms are up and running, each player can have their own private room,” Victor concluded thoughtfully.
This would solve some of the problems, but food might spoil sooner or later, and bringing them into the dorms felt inappropriate. He contemplated the situation further, pondering on potential solutions. While alchemical substitutes for food existed, Victor lacked the expertise of an Alchemist and the necessary recipes. One thing was for sure; this might’ve become one of the focal focuses when the “Alchemy Hall” was unlocked.
“Still, I never knew that the System had a recording function and could record things in real time… Did you happen to record the lecture I gave yesterday?”
Lizbeth’s response carried a hint of mischievousness. “Hehe, sorry. I forgot to activate the recording during that lecture.”
Victor was not one to be petty over small matters and said, “Well then, just remember to do so next time.”
The prospect of recording lectures had promising implications. These recordings could be preserved and distributed to players for review, potentially alleviating the need for repetitive classes on specific subjects. It was a development that could foster efficient learning among the acolytes.
“Okie!” She smiled and perched herself on Victor’s shoulder as usual.
As night almost settled on Earth, the imminent return of the players lingered in the air. Due to the late initiation of the new incubations, however, the next batch of players could only access the game the following morning.
Thoughts of these players and their progress suddenly piqued Victor’s curiosity. He cast his gaze around the holographic screen, navigating its interface to access relevant information. Notably, the players possessed subordinary Shadowlink Marks; this meant that their details should be accessible within the System for Victor to see.
And soon enough, Victor came across the section labeled “Academy Inhabitant List.” Within this tab lay a comprehensive compilation of players who had previously logged into the game and even himself, each accompanied by their own status screen. He then proceeded to open the status screens of all the players and compared their rate of progression.
“Whoa, this is an absurd level of progress!” Victor exclaimed, taken aback by the exponential growth depicted before him.
Despite variations in their inherent aptitudes, even the individuals with the least favorable aptitude showed a commendable progress of 4 percent. In stark contrast, the player possessing an inferior bright-grade aptitude boasted an astonishing 10 percent advancement in their meditation technique. Victor couldn’t help but calculate on the side that, at this pace, the fastest among them would reach the first-stage Initiate Attunement in a mere ten days. All without expending a single mana crystal!
Lizbeth, who had been observing alongside Victor, chimed in with an air of nonchalance, “Why with the surprise? These players have been engaged in rigorous activities during the day, and their evenings have been dedicated to nourishing meals. On top of that, they’ve been practicing meditation ceaselessly, thanks to the mechanics of the gaming capsule.”
Usually, the journey from a mortal to an official Magus was an arduous, multifaceted process that depended on an individual’s innate talent, dedication, and the resources at their disposal. On average, for individuals with glimmering-grade mana aptitudes, the timeline for this progression could span from a minimum of two to as long as ten years or even longer.
“Makes sense…” Victor concurred, acknowledging the significant difference in circumstances with a perfunctory nod.
But still, this meant that he could have an army of Initiate Attunement acolytes in less than a month. What would happen if they were provided with superior resources and an optimal environment for growth? Just imagining that caused his body to shiver with excitement…
With a little more than half an hour remaining, Victor opted to use it to refine some of the elixir that still lingered within his body and get ready for the day.
***
“Whoa! Guys, check out the new status screen. We finally have HP and MP bars! The game developers do listen to our queries!” exclaimed the first player who logged in to the game — Storm.
“Mm, the merit points are also shown in numbers here.” Zero signaled his agreement with a nod and added, “I see that I have sixty-one points. Not bad.”
“More importantly, I truly am the chosen one in this game! Don’t you see that 10 percent meditation progress? I’ll be the first prodigal true acolyte in this game!” Prominence struck a triumphant pose that screamed, “Look at me, I’m amazing!”
“Shuck! This game’s as uneven as my ex’s emotional rollercoaster,” Storm complained, wearing a glum expression. “My aptitude’s scraping the bottom of the barrel, and my progress is like a snail’s pace... Am I doomed to be the game’s snail? Can I reroll?”
“Welp, I don’t think that’s possible according to the wiki, not that you will be left behind by how much of an expert and competitive you’re in a game,” Zero rationalized.
“Relax! What Boss Zero said is correct. Even if you’re at the back of the talent line, I won’t ditch you, okay? We’re in this together, no matter how terribly you rank.”
“Get lost, man.” Storm pushed Prominence away from him.
“You’re still lucky. I’ve got the Umbra and Necro elemental affinities. At this rate, won’t I become a dark Magus, unlike the rest of you guys?” SuperNova added, his tone tinged with genuine concern.
“Hahaha! Dude, what’s wrong with being the spooky magician of the bunch?” Mike let out a hearty laugh. “Who knows, you might unlock a hidden class like ‘Necromancer’ or something and end up leading an army of skeletons, zombies, and who could forget, a bunch of friendly ghosts!”
“Eep! Piss off! That’s the last thing I want to deal with!”
“Ahem.” Victor’s cough cut through the players’ lively conversation — he’d been standing nearby ever since the players logged in. Perhaps it was because he had used his identity as the promotional manager of the game to chat with them about the amity setting last night, but the five players’ eyes were even more respectful than ever before.
For their sense of immersion, Victor decided to utilize his already-established image of majesty for his own use and declared in a serious tone, “The sands of time are slipping away. Sooner or later, those pesky enemies of old will discover us. In anticipation of their potential hostile actions against our academy, urgency becomes our ally. We must swiftly bolster our defenses to safeguard our haven. The missions that demand attention have been compiled on your Shadowlink Marks. I implore you to peruse them diligently.”
““Understood, Headmaster!”” The response was unanimous, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up the players’ faces as they promptly accessed their missions.
While it might sound like he had made this up, what Victor said was grounded in truth, however. The possibility that his “comrades-turned-enemies” would come back to this forest could not be dismissed. The artifact that had driven the wedge of betrayal between them held the key to an ancient civilization’s ruins from before the Dark Era. It was plausible that they would return to this very forest with a formidable force, driven by the prospect of exploring the ruins and claiming the hidden treasures.
With his instructions imparted, Victor sent these players out to do their tasks. The plowing of the agricultural area was not yet finished, so the players were eager to wrap it up first before tackling new challenges.
Meanwhile, Victor ventured deep into the west of the Thornwood Forest to finish the main mission while engaging in the hunt for some large magical game (magical beasts). Their carcasses were not only useful for essence points but also useful in enhancing the efficacy of their meditation progress. This two-fold benefit propelled Victor forward as he navigated the forest’s depths.
***
The sun was already sitting high in the sky when Victor came back to the academy. Nestled within his interspatial ring was a Thornback Boar, while being carried by his hand was another juvenile Mossback Turtle. Thornback Boars, as the name suggested, were huge boars with sharp, long, thorn-like growths on their back and were native magical beasts of the Thornwood Forest. They were aggressive and territorial, possessing similar combat capability to that of a second-stage Initiate Attunement, and one had attacked Victor when he encroached upon its territory but was swiftly dispatched by him.
Unfortunately, there were no indications of the whereabouts of the elusive last natural resource that could be found — all signs led to the heart of the Thornwood Forest, which was dangerous beyond comparison. Victor’s intuition warned him of an imminent, life-threatening danger that lay hidden within, so he had no choice but to explore there later.
In any case, he was going to process the turtle into the essence converter while keeping the boar for its meat and other materials. But butchering turned out to be a problem; he could do simple cooking, but dismantling large creatures was beyond him. Sure, there was the set of kitchen knives he’d gotten, but…
“Duh, I should have thought ahead and chosen a player with the skills of a butcher or cook.” Victor held his head in regret. “Well, it’s not too late to rectify this situation.”
All he had to do was to select the capable individual in the next batch. Or if luck was on his side, there might be one with the requisite expertise among the group of players on the next day.
Only time could tell…
