Preparation

If they had both, those people stood far ahead of ordinary apprentices from the very beginning.

A trace of coldness rose in Matthew’s heart.

But soon, that coldness turned into an even stronger desire.

His talent was average.

Therefore, he needed resources even more.

Since his aptitude could not be changed in a short time, he would use magic stones, potions, spells, and every available external object to bridge the gap bit by bit.

This was the most realistic path.

Time passed slowly.

The luster of the magic stone gradually dimmed.

Matthew’s palm was no longer just cold, but somewhat numb.

The sensation of fullness in his spiritual sea grew increasingly obvious.

In the end, he even had a feeling of being “full.”

It wasn't a fullness in his stomach.

It was the satiety of his Spirit being filled.

That feeling was somewhat wondrous.

It was very comfortable.

It even made one instinctively want to continue absorbing.

But Matthew was not deceived by this comfort.

On the contrary, he immediately raised his guard.

Things that made one comfortable were often more dangerous.

Pain would make a person stop.

Comfort, however, would entice one to continue.

He did not speed up; he simply maintained his original rhythm, slowly incorporating the last bit of magic stone energy into his meditation trajectory.

Finally, the magic stone in his palm made a very faint cracking sound.

Crack.

Fine cracks opened on the surface.

The stone, which had originally emitted a faint glow, became grayish-white and dull.

In the next moment, as if it had lost its support, it crumbled into powder in Matthew’s palm.

Matthew did not open his eyes immediately.

He remained in his meditative state, circulating the energy he had just absorbed through his body three times. Only after confirming there was no obvious disorder did he slowly open his eyes.

The oil lamp was still burning.

The room remained quiet.

The charcoal in the fire brazier had collapsed slightly, with red light hidden deep within the ashes, occasionally flickering.

Matthew looked down at his palm.

The grayish-white powder lay there quietly.

A magic stone was completely exhausted.

Matthew’s eyes, however, lit up.

The improvement wasn't exaggerated.

It was far from enough to make him breakthrough immediately.

There was even a significant distance left before reaching the peak of a Second-Grade Apprentice.

However, this improvement was clear enough.

His total Spirit capacity had grown a little.

His meditation trajectory had stabilized a little.

The spell model for Energy Missile had also become smoother in his consciousness.

If he relied solely on ordinary meditation, achieving the same effect would take at least several days, if not longer.

And this was just one magic stone.

Matthew slowly clenched his palm, then slowly relaxed it.

He began to calculate in his heart.

The improvement brought by one magic stone was limited.

But what about three hundred stones?

Of course, it couldn't be a simple multiplication.

His conversion efficiency was not high.

There would be losses with each absorption.

Furthermore, a portion of the energy would first be used to recover the deficits in his body and Spirit, and could not be entirely converted into his cultivation base.

Aside from that, his spiritual sea could not endure an infinite amount.

The amount he could absorb each day was bound to be limited.

But even after deducting all these factors, three hundred magic stones were still a massive amount of resources.

As long as he was given enough time to absorb them bit by bit, convert them bit by bit, and stabilize them bit by bit...

Breaking through to a Third-Grade Apprentice was by no means a fantasy.

In fact, one could say the probability was extremely high.

When this judgment surfaced, Matthew’s heart couldn't help but beat a little faster.

Third-Grade Apprentice.

These words held an immense temptation for him right now.

If he could become a Third-Grade Apprentice, then when facing enemies like Herbert, he would at least no longer be suppressed so heavily by rank.

At that time, if combined with new spells, potions, and some magic items, his self-preservation ability would increase significantly.

His confidence in going to the Royal Capital would also be much greater.

However, Matthew quickly suppressed his excitement.

Being a Third-Grade Apprentice was only a goal.

It was not a result already in hand.

Three hundred magic stones seemed like a lot, but if used improperly, they could be mostly wasted.

Moreover, he had to set aside a portion to exchange for spell models, materials, and other resources.

He couldn't use them all for cultivation.

Resource allocation was equally important.

Matthew looked down at the powder in his palm, his brow furrowing slightly.

The energy of this magic stone was indeed pure, without impurities.

During the absorption process, he felt no sense of filth, nor did any bodily rejection occur.

This meant the magic stone itself was very safe.

At least for low-level apprentices, ordinary magic stones were a stable and reliable auxiliary resource.

But...

Matthew closed his eyes and felt for a while.

There was some swelling at his brow.

His consciousness also had a slight floating sensation.

It was like being too full; his stomach wasn't uncomfortable, but he clearly didn't want to continue swallowing.

It was also like his Spirit had been propped open by something clear and bright; his perception was sharper than usual, yet it carried a bit of lightheaded dizziness.

Matthew raised his hand to press against his brow.

This sensation was not painful.

One could even say it had a bit of addictive comfort.

But that was precisely the problem.

If it were someone with insufficient willpower, they probably wouldn't be able to resist taking out a second or third stone, absorbing until they reached their limit.

Matthew would not.

He quickly reached a conclusion.

Magic stones had no obvious side effects.

But his Spirit capacity was limited.

He could not absorb an excessive amount within a single day.

Otherwise, just like eating, no matter how good the food was, eating too much at once would harm the body. No matter how pure the magic stone energy was, it required time to digest, settle, and solidify.

Especially since his talent was average and his conversion speed was not fast enough.

If he forced an accumulation, it would only lead to his spiritual sea entering a saturated state, which might even affect subsequent meditation.

That would be counterproductive.

Matthew glanced at his storage ring.

There was still a large number of magic stones inside.

They lay there quietly, like a road that had faintly appeared in the darkness.

It wasn't a grand highway to the heavens.

But at least, it was a path he could walk forward on.

To Matthew, this was already precious enough.

He poured the powder from his palm into an empty bottle and capped it.

This magic stone powder, having been drained of energy, no longer had much value, but Matthew still did not throw it away carelessly.

Prudence was a habit.

Before he was certain something was completely useless, he did not like to dispose of it randomly.

Having done this, Matthew straightened his body again.

He did not take out a second magic stone.

Absorbing one tonight was enough.

What needed to be done next was to stabilize.

He closed his eyes and operated his meditation method once more.

This time, there was no magic stone to assist him.

Meditation became slow again.

But Matthew could clearly feel that the portion of energy he had just absorbed was slowly settling deep within his spiritual sea.

They were like tiny specks of light, merging bit by bit into his original Spirit.

It wasn't dazzling.

It wasn't violent.

But it truly existed.

Matthew’s breathing gradually became steady.

Inside the room, the oil lamp burned lower and lower.

The inner city outside the window also gradually grew quiet.

The streets that were bustling during the day had retracted their sounds in the night. Occasionally, the sound of a passing patrol squad could be heard from afar, their iron boots treading on the stone slabs with a low, rhythmic thud.

The Stone Statue Inn was like a silent giant beast, crouching in the night of the county seat’s inner city.

The clamor in the lobby downstairs gradually vanished.

From the direction of the stables came the faint snort of a horse.

In the corridor, a waiter spoke in a low voice before quickly moving away.

Matthew sat deep within the room, his shadow cast long by the fire brazier and oil lamp.

His face was still somewhat pale.

But his gaze was no longer as exhausted as when he had first returned.

Beneath that stillness, something was slowly igniting.

It wasn't impulse.

It wasn't ecstasy.

It was an ambition that had been suppressed very deeply.

The county seat could no longer hold him.

The trip to the tomb had shown him danger, but it had also given him resources.

Herbert had shown him the gap.

The magic stones showed him the possibility of catching up.

The Royal Capital was the next step.

Matthew knew very well that the path ahead would not be easy.

The Royal Capital would not become safe just because he was cautious.

Higher-level resources would inevitably be accompanied by higher-level dangers.

But this time, he did not plan to stop.

He had already tasted the improvement brought by resources.

He also knew that he wasn't without a chance to continue climbing upward.

As long as he didn't make mistakes.

As long as he stayed alive.

As long as the magic stones in his hand could be converted into strength bit by bit.

Then a Third-Grade Apprentice was not far away.

The meditation method operated slowly.

Matthew’s consciousness sank into his spiritual sea once more.

That wisp of pure energy brought by the magic stone finally grew completely still.

It was like a tiny glimmer of light beneath the dark surface of the water.

Faint.

But real.

And Matthew, under the reflection of this tiny light, began his cultivation in the truest sense.

...

...

At noon the next day, inside the room on the third floor of the Stone Statue Inn, sunlight shone through the gap in the half-open curtains, falling on the tabletop to form a bright diagonal line.

The inner city streets outside the window had already become lively.

Carriages drove over the stone-paved roads, the sound of wheels steady and rhythmic. Occasionally, the voices of shop workers hawking their wares to customers could be heard from afar, though they were muffled by the high windows. The Stone Statue Inn lived up to its reputation as an inner city inn; the walls were thick, and the rooms were quiet enough that even if people came and went downstairs, it wouldn't seem noisy.

Matthew sat by the table and slowly set down his utensils.

Today’s lunch was much simpler than last night’s.

A portion of fried meat, a bowl of hot soup, two slices of bread, and some boiled beans and vegetables. The food wasn't extravagant, but it was enough to replenish his strength.

Matthew ate steadily.

Unlike last night, he didn't have that almost desperate hunger to make up for his deficits. Today, he chewed every bite slowly, as if confirming his body’s reaction, and as if using the act of eating to pull himself back to reality from the shadows of yesterday’s tomb.

The soup entered his stomach, and a warmth rose within him.

The blood energy brought by the magical beast meat last night had already settled, and combined with a night of meditation, his physical state was much better than when he had first returned.

Matthew closed his eyes and felt for a moment.

His arms no longer felt heavy.

The soreness in his legs had also lessened significantly.

His breathing was steady, and his heartbeat was strong. Although there was still a slight fatigue deep within his Spirit, it no longer affected his normal thinking or spellcasting.

More importantly, the magic stone he had absorbed last night had completely merged into his Spirit.

That bit of improvement wasn't exaggerated.

Had Matthew not been extremely sensitive to his own state, an ordinary apprentice might not even have been able to distinguish the change. But Matthew could feel it.

His Spirit was indeed a fraction denser.

His meditation trajectory was also a bit more stable.

It was like a stream that was still very thin; the water volume hadn't suddenly surged, but a clearer flow could already be seen.

This feeling caused a very faint sense of pleasure to rise in Matthew’s heart.

He had never been someone who easily showed his emotions.

But this feeling of confirming that he was becoming stronger was still difficult to remain completely indifferent to.

The wretched state in the tomb yesterday, the pressure brought by Herbert, the shock given to him by the Fifth-Grade Apprentice’s tomb—all of it had not vanished.

They were like a layer of shadow weighing on Matthew’s heart.

But at the same time, the improvement brought by the magic stones was like a tiny glimmer of light in the darkness, letting him clearly see that he wasn't only capable of passive escape.

He could also move forward.

As long as there were enough resources, as long as he was cautious enough, and as long as he left the county seat alive, he would have the chance to close the gap step by step.

Matthew opened his eyes and picked up his water cup to take a sip.

The warm water slid down his throat.

His gaze was calm, but his heart was not as ripple-free as his surface suggested.

The Royal Capital.

This name had surfaced in his mind many times from last night to today.

The Royal Capital was not safe.

Matthew knew this very well.

The capital of a country could never only have prosperity and opportunities. There would certainly be more nobles, more knights, more Class holders, and more wizard apprentices there. The more powerful people there were, the more complex the rules would be, and the more undercurrents there would be.

But because of this, it was worth going.

The county seat was too small.

So small that having even a little more resources in his hands could attract prying eyes.

So small that if Herbert returned alive and intended to look, he would eventually be able to track Matthew’s movements.

So small that if he wanted to exchange for a more suitable spell, he might not even be able to find a stable channel.

But the Royal Capital was different.

The Royal Capital was large enough.

Large enough that a Second-Grade Apprentice entering it might not appear conspicuous.

Large enough that the overlapping of various forces could instead cover the tracks of a single individual.

Large enough that magic stones could be exchanged for more truly useful things.

Spell models.

Meditation auxiliary potions.

Protective items.

Magic materials.

Even news of higher-level wizard organizations.

As Matthew thought of these things, his fingertips lightly stroked the edge of his water cup.

He had expectations.

And these expectations were stronger than he had imagined.

It wasn't the naive yearning of a youth traveling to the prosperous world for the first time.

Matthew would not be so childish.

His expectations were calmer and deeper.

He looked forward to the resources of the Royal Capital.

He looked forward to more spells.

He looked forward to finding a method to let himself breakthrough to a Third-Grade Apprentice faster.

He looked forward to a day when he would no longer rely on caution and maps to narrowly escape from danger, but would be able to truly grasp the initiative.

Yet the more he expected, the more he needed to restrain himself.

Because expectation easily led to being over-ambitious.

And being over-ambitious often meant death.

Knock, knock.

A knock suddenly sounded at the door.

Matthew’s gaze shifted.

He almost didn't need to think to know that the person coming should be Aidan.

The matters he had ordered yesterday should have a preliminary result by this afternoon.

“Come in.”

The door was pushed open.

Aidan walked in.

The youth was wearing ordinary grey clothes today, with a short sword hanging at his waist and a bit of dust clinging to the edges of his boots. Looking at his appearance, he had clearly been running around outside all morning.