Chapter 139: Promotion to Mage

Emerald light emanated slowly from the jaws of the staff, the soft, delicate threads of radiance drifting around Vael’s body like a faint mist. Beneath this verdant glow, other subtle colors could be glimpsed. Upon closer inspection, one would realize these colors were composed of countless tiny light particles—magic elements that were normally invisible to the naked eye. Yet, because these elements had gathered with such astonishing density, they underwent a transformation; they clustered and shifted, eventually forming these minute, shimmering points. Under the shroud of that ethereal emerald light, the seven differently colored particles appeared even more enchanting, circling in a brilliant dance that created a scene of mesmerizing beauty.

Vael sat steadily on the ground, eyes slightly closed, his breathing rhythmic and even. His mind was calm as water, his consciousness having entered a state of deep meditation.

His crescent-shaped sea of consciousness continuously absorbed and refined the magic elements gathering from the surrounding environment. Ever since his consciousness had forged a close connection with the staff, drawing elements from the outside world had become exceptionally easy. In just a short time, a vast quantity of magic elements had amassed around him. Aided by the staff, the speed at which Vael refined these elements was significantly faster than before, and the quality of the magic power he produced was incomparable to anything he had achieved in the past.

His entire sea of consciousness operated in a cycle, bringing his body into a state of perfect harmony: absorbing elements, refining them into his own magic power, then repeating the process. He lost track of time. When the last traces of magic elements surrounding him had been fully absorbed and refined, a subtle ripple suddenly disturbed the tranquil air. A keen observer would have been stunned to realize that these ripples were being triggered by the magic elements in the environment itself.

The magic fluctuations oscillated, spreading outward in circles like ripples in a pond. Simultaneously, a change occurred within Vael’s sea of consciousness: the seven different attributes of magic power began to emit faint glows. These lights did not shine steadily but flickered intermittently. As time passed, the flickering grew brighter, particularly the fire-attribute magic. The fire-element magic crystal erupted with a brilliance that could only be described as radiant, its crimson light outshining the other six attributes. Vael could distinctly feel an energy unlike any before, swelling within the fire crystal.

Yes, swelling. It was as if the energy were molten lava, on the verge of erupting and shattering the crystal to surge forth.

Vael was intimately familiar with this sensation. It was the moment of breaking through the boundaries of a Mage Apprentice—it had finally arrived.

"Boom!"

It felt as though a bolt of divine lightning had struck his spirit. Vael felt his entire being submerged in a haze, his sea of consciousness shrouded in a thick, fiery-red mist that obscured everything. Just as the confusion peaked, the red mist began to converge toward a center, and within moments, the blurriness cleared.

The fire-element magic crystal remained intact, yet the crimson crystal appeared far more lustrous than before. Looking closely, its shape seemed to have undergone subtle changes—it appeared, perhaps, slightly more similar to the fire crystal atop his staff.

Everything returned to calm. Vael slowly opened his eyes, realizing that he no longer needed to rely on active perception to clearly sense the fire elements gathering around him. While he could not yet see them with his naked eyes, this was, without a doubt, another breakthrough for him.

Taking a deep breath to steady his mind, Vael cast his perception into his sea of consciousness to examine the changes following his advancement.

His Ice magic had reached the tenth rank of Mage Apprentice; Water and Light magic had reached the eighth rank; Wind and Spatial magic had risen to the seventh rank; and Dark and Earth magic had climbed to the sixth rank. As for his Fire magic, it had successfully crossed the threshold of Mage Apprentice, reaching the level of a true Mage.

In the hierarchy of magic, if the rank of Mage Apprentice was a long period of laying foundations, then the level of Mage was a brief period of rapid development. This meant that after reaching the rank of Mage, the pace of advancement would no longer be the rigid, step-by-step climb of an apprentice. The stage of a Mage was known for rapid growth; following the long, foundational period of an apprentice, one’s magic power would enter a phase of swift evolution. During this time, a mage would see massive improvements in magic control, the quality of their power, and the capacity of their sea of consciousness. As long as a mage practiced diligently, they could utilize this period to advance rapidly, potentially even skipping ranks—provided, of course, they possessed the ability to do so.

"Alright, that should be enough for now. Besides, it’s getting late."

Vael smiled faintly, took a deep breath, and looked up at the sky. Night had fallen.

Night had arrived, but night never truly belonged here. In this place, the night was never peaceful. A multitude of mercenaries wandered between the boisterous taverns and guild halls. Some had just returned from long, grueling journeys to collect their rewards and bounty; others were waiting for suitable contracts to avoid being beaten to the punch; while some, having completed their tasks, were busy loosening the nerves that had been stretched taut for days.

Mercenaries lived lives on the edge of a blade, and they were all, to a man, wild and rough. They drank and cursed in these noisy establishments, shouting about everything from thrilling, dangerous missions to the buxom wenches in various brothels. They downed large mugs of spirits, tore into meat and bone with no regard for decorum, and gambled with dice using grease-stained hands. Occasionally, some would get a sudden rush of blood to the head and insist on finding an opponent to fight a few rounds.

This was Como, the City of Mercenaries.