The Runic Alchemist

Potion Crafting was exactly as dull as Damian had expected. It was neither challenging nor novel, consisting only of things he already knew or had read about.

The professor, a pleasant-looking mage in her mid-forties, initially struck Damian as a kind and helpful woman. Her honey-colored hair and gentle demeanor gave her an air of innocence—at least, that was Damian's impression until a boy made a small mistake while preparing ingredients for a simple universal poison-cleansing potion. In response, the professor made the unfortunate student chant the dispelling spell 100 times in front of the entire class, then declared him the potion tester for the day.

A chill ran down Damian's spine as he witnessed the ordeal. He immediately redoubled his efforts on his own potion. Thankfully, his little glass apparatus, containing the mixture, showed no signs of error. To be extra cautious, Damian used his Arcane Synthesis ability, occupying one of its empty slots to infuse the potion with cleansing spell oil, enhancing its potency. While it was far from what large-scale runic mana dust spells could achieve, it was still superior to traditional methods.

He didn't want to stand out or make more effort than neccessary yet, he ended up crafting the best potion in the class. The professor even hugged him in appreciation, causing his face to flush a bright red from embarrassment. Thankfully, no one familiar to him was present—only a few Knowledge Keeper students, who laughed at his expense.

On the bright side, at least the professor revealing Damian's weird title made the students come to him for some advice for their own potions, it helped break the barrier that might have seemed like it was there, with him only hanging out with high nobility constantly. Unlike the nobility, the commoners and lower-ranking nobles spoke with refreshing directness, which Damian found to be a welcome change from his interactions in the Eldoris capital, where he was constantly surrounded by nobles and researchers.

All in all, it turned out to be a decent class.

The third class was Magic Theory and Advanced Spellcraft. After a brief five-minute walk, Damian entered the classroom and immediately spotted Sam, Grace, Evrin, and Einar. Several others from the Spellborne Legions were present as well—at least, those who had managed to secure seats. The class allocations were determined by rankings and early registration. About one third of the attendees were from the Knowledge Keeper section, while none hailed from the Fist of Valor.

Damian joined his friends in the middle of the seven arched rows, as they called him over with exaggerated gestures. The Knowledge Keeper students he had been chatting with on the way found seats among their own section students whom they knew.

As Damian scanned the room, his eyes landed on Lucian, sitting alone, and then on the prince, a few rows behind her, surrounded by Dawnstar nobles. The beastman boy sat off to the side with a group of commoners, while Alex, along with several others, sat by themselves. These were the top-ranking fifth-year students—a mix of nobles and commoners, more nobles than commoners though. Also, Damian noticed that the mana levels of the commoners were somewhat lacking. Unlike noble children, who received guidance from an early age, commoners often ascended jobs as quickly as possible, driven either by the desire for power or the necessity of supporting their families. Making them ascend before their skills were properly leveled up, except select few who had liberty to do as they pleased.

Damian took a seat beside Evrin and Einar.

The room fell silent as the professor entered—a casually dressed woman, perhaps in her fifties or sixties. Despite her relaxed appearance, the immense mana radiating from her identified her as at least a transcendent seed. Damian had noticed that most of the professors at the academy were on the older side, almost as if the Highswords treated the institution as a retirement haven.

For second-rankers, however, their fifties and sixties were prime years. With their enhanced bodies, they could live up to 120 or 130 years. Third-rankers lived for centuries, and fourth-rankers? Damian had no idea. The king of Faerunia had not changed for a very long time. He did leave the Highswords recently though, and married a noble lady from his own kingdom. Whether that was to make Hellstorm part of his family or not was a question in and of itself.

The professor wrote her name on the pitch black wall with a twist of her hand, the runestone chalk moved on its own and revealed the words of 'Professor Thalrisa'. The bright, luminescent letters shimmered as if alive. Damian had seen such runestone chalks, he even used some back in Eldoris.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The display was impressive, though Damian saw in real time how it worked. She had a runic circle of some sort of spell active before she entered the class, it seemed like a real time imitation of her two fingers made of pure mana thread. It was invisible, well at least for others, Damian could see the mana threads stretching from the runic circle and forming two golden fingers. However it moved and acted like the real thing. The mana cost of maintaining such a thing for even 3 minutes would be astronomical, and she very wisely dismissed the spell after writing her name.

A clever trick. But that small display alone had cost her over 40% of her mana.

As the class admired the display, Damian quietly sketched the runic circle into his spellbook in meticulous detail. Einar, seated beside him, squinted at his work but said nothing.

"This is your first class in spell-crafting as fifth years huh..? Some of you already know me, as I taught the same class last year to you. But for those who don't, my name is professor Thalrisa and…"

The class was more theoretical than practical. And most of the theories Damian knew by heart. He had searched extensively on how people created original spells, but had found nothing conclusive. All authors went on and on about the foundation of spells and understanding the various gestures and what not. He even asked the butler he was assigned to deliver this request of his and the reply was, 'Pledge loyalty to our house and we will tell you'.

If they teach it here, then he would really think highly of Highswords, but seeing the professor Damian had very low expectations.