New Life As An Overpowered Mage With Infinite Classes

Chapter 14 : Servants & Price Tags

Robb knew this was the critical moment. During the last body tempering, this surge of energy had nearly torn him apart.

But this time, he'd grasped the essentials.

Taking a deep breath, he began attempting to guide the raging energy using the distinctive cadence of the Solar Breath.

At first, the force remained difficult to control, rampaging through his meridians like wildfire.

But as he regulated his breathing, the violent energy gradually calmed, settling into a specific trajectory.

[Perfect guidance rhythm detected]

[Control level: High]

[Bonus attribute increase: Constitution +0.2]

[Constitution: 1.2 → 1.4]

Just as the energy was about to be fully channeled into his meridians, Robb sensed something unusual.

In his perception, the flowing energy seemed to form a pattern, like a miniature sun, slowly rotating within his body.

It reminded him of the vision from his first body tempering, but this time the image was far clearer. He could even sense a deeper meaning embedded within it.

"Stay focused." Arnor's voice turned abruptly serious. "You should be seeing something right about now..."

Indeed, in Robb's perception, that sun was more than just a pattern. It was the embodiment of a principle.

Its movement aligned perfectly with the rhythm of the Solar Breath.

[Special perception unlocked: Solar Wheel Rhythm]

[Understanding of solar energy slightly increased]

[Solar Breath training speed slightly increased]

"So that's what it is..." Robb finally understood.

The reason this breathing technique was called the Solar Breath wasn't merely because it channeled sun-like energy, it was because the technique itself was an imitation of the sun's rotational principles.

When the last wisp of energy had fully merged into his meridians, Robb slowly opened his eyes. He found Arnor watching him with a peculiar expression.

"Did you..." Arnor seemed to want to say something but hesitated. "Did you see the solar wheel pattern?"

Robb nodded. "Not only saw it, I felt the... principles within it."

"Unbelievable." Arnor's expression grew complicated. "Even I didn't have that kind of insight until I'd reached the second stage of training. And you're only on your second body tempering..."

He didn't finish the thought, but Robb understood. This kind of comprehension of a breathing technique's essence carried far more significance than simply completing the physical process.

...

On the way back to the dormitory, Robb kept mulling over the day's experiences.

The reason he'd been able to maintain the stargrass's vitality was entirely because he'd unconsciously applied the rhythm of the Solar Breath while sorting it.

Each guided breath had caused the energy within the herb to flow in a specific cadence.

"What are you thinking about?" Arnor's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm thinking..." Robb stopped walking, his mind turning to that bottle of artificial stardew.

"Does every form of supernatural power have its own specific 'rhythm'?"

"What do you mean?"

"Stargrass maintains its vitality in response to a particular cadence. Scorching Essence Oil only works properly when paired with a breathing technique's rhythm."

Robb explained. "So spirit power, could it also..."

Arnor's interest was piqued. "You're saying that if we could find the 'rhythm' of spirit power, it might accelerate meditation?"

"At the very least, it's worth trying." Robb nodded. "Lady Elena said she'd teach me to prepare simple potions today. Maybe I can find some clues there."

As they spoke, the two arrived at the dormitory area.

The moment they stepped onto the stairs, hurried footsteps reached their ears.

A girl in lavish but disheveled clothing rushed past them. The heavy perfume she wore barely masked an underlying scent of something metallic and the faint tang of sweat.

Robb recognized her as one of their fellow Initiates, Emily.

According to her earlier self-introduction, she was the daughter of a Grand Duke's household, a noblewoman of considerable standing.

But at this moment, the duke's daughter looked more like an escort leaving some private engagement, her collar hanging open, her carefully applied makeup smeared beyond repair, a trace of crimson at the corner of her lips.

Spotting Robb and Arnor, Emily's face flushed red. She raised a hand to shield her face and quickened her pace, vanishing around the corridor's bend.

"Another one." Arnor let out a scoff laced with contempt. "That's the third this month who's chosen that path."

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't know?" Arnor glanced at Robb's confused expression.

"Apprentices who've passed the evaluation have the right to take on personal servants. For those who see no hope of advancing, pledging themselves to an established apprentice early is... one way out."

His tone dripped with derision.

"Emily's been going to High Apprentice Marcus in Tower Three. I hear that fellow has a particular fondness for collecting 'beautiful maids.' He's already got five or six."

Only then did Robb fully grasp the situation. He noticed a shadow cross Arnor's face.

"Come to think of it, Marcus and his twin brother have been researching some kind of cursed sorcery for extracting spirit power. Word is one of his servants has already been reduced to a vegetable because of it."

He paused, his voice dropping low. "But even so, people keep throwing themselves at him. In the Black Mist Order, simply being allowed to stay is already the greatest luxury many can hope for."

Robb fell silent. This was the Magus Civilization, the strong held absolute power of life and death over the weak, and this hierarchy was ingrained to the bone.

"That said..." Arnor reined in his emotions somewhat.

"You've found yourself a decent path. Lady Elena may be strict, but at least..."

He didn't finish, but Robb understood. The old woman might look terrifying, but based on the past two days of interaction, she was actually remarkably kind.

"Speaking of which." Robb thought of the artificial stardew and cast about for conversation. "Why do you think Hadrian would give me such a precious potion?"

"Probably has his eye on your talent." Arnor shrugged.

"In the Black Mist Order, no gesture of goodwill comes without a reason. If you successfully advance someday, you may well be expected to repay the favor."

Every gift bestowed by fate has already had its price tag quietly attached.

Robb nodded. The implications behind this "gift" were something he understood perfectly well.