Exploiting a Loophole

“So, you went through all this trouble just for the Apprentice assessment?”

Ogre could only feel that the gap between people was truly immense.

He was running around all day, either fighting or training, just to become a Professional, while the young master from the outer city in front of him was suppressing his own power, intentionally refusing to condense a mana core in pursuit of so-called perfection.

“That's only one of the reasons. I don't want to casually engrave some low-level spell into my mind,” Folke explained.

Whether they were Mage Apprentices of the evocation or manipulation paths, the sign of their promotion to a professional Mage was the same—condensing their mana to form a mana core.

In the process of condensing a mana core, a Mage could engrave one of their highly proficient spells in the form of mana runes into the core to gain greater power.

This stage was also where the manipulation and evocation paths completely diverged. Manipulation Mages would infuse their own soul and a massive amount of mental will during the process of condensing the mana core.

On the other hand, those of the evocation path would forgo engraving a spell and reduce the mental power they infused, choosing instead to condense it using even stronger elemental power.

This elemental power would permanently change the nature of the mana core, but at the same time, Evocation Mages would also obtain far greater mana.

Those with greater elemental sensitivity and better mental talent would become manipulation mages, while Mage Apprentices with stronger mana reserve talent but poor elemental perception would choose the evocation path.

“Pursuing strength and perfection is perfectly reasonable.” Ogre picked up his wooden mug and took a sip, then voiced his doubt. “Though, I find it strange. With your family's influence, it shouldn't be very difficult to find a few outstanding apprentices, right?”

The ale at this tavern was very low-proof. Rather than alcohol, it was more like a beverage, though fortunately, it tasted decent.

Ogre actually quite liked this slightly bitter beverage—the bitterness was good for keeping him awake and alert.

Lange, however, did not seem to like the brew as much. Ogre noticed that the knight squire only took a single sip before sticking out his tongue in disgust off to the side.

“The Apprentice qualification assessment does not allow anyone above the Apprentice level to interfere.” Folke seemed to think of something, pausing as he spoke.

After contemplating for a few seconds, he continued to explain to Ogre, “What I want to aim for is a high-star Apprentice adventuring band rating, which will be of great help to me in the future. That's why I need genuine Apprentice-level experts. This is the real reason I came to the frontier city with my uncle.”

“Could it be because... your family's special recruitment quota didn't go to you?” Ogre voiced Folke's true predicament.

Back when he was trying to learn, he had also researched that so-called sacred land of mages—the Serris Mage Academy.

Serris Mage Academy only accepted apprentice-level Mage students. In the words of their headmaster—they were only responsible for cultivating blank paper with potential.

Mages of the Professional rank were usually unable to become students of Serris Academy.

Trying to enter Serris Mage Academy was quite difficult. One either needed a recommendation quota from a major power, or had to pass the direct entrance exam with exceptionally outstanding magic talent.

Although Folke was already outstanding as a Mage Apprentice, it seemed he was still slightly lacking if he wanted to enter Serris Academy on his own merit.

‘Speaking of which, the location of the warlock organization that the information broker provided was also there. Could it be that those warlocks are actually run by some of the Mages within that academy?’ It wasn't Ogre's fault that he hadn't guessed where the warlock organization was located before.

Almost no one would think that warlocks, who were hunted like rats in the streets, would head straight for the largest residence of Mages.

Ogre found it hard to believe there wasn't some connection between the two.

He felt that this academy was, in all likelihood, thoroughly infiltrated.

“I didn't expect you to know about this as well. Yes, my plan is to enter Serris Academy by achieving a high-star rating in the Professionals Association's Apprentice evaluation.” Folke did not try to hide it.

His uncle was the one who had pointed out this path to him. He was quite unlucky—in Folke's generation, three Mage Apprentices with exceptionally outstanding talent happened to emerge in his family at the same time.

This resulted in the recommendation quotas for two consecutive years skipping right over Folke. He really couldn't afford to wait any longer. The only “shortcut” he could use by leveraging his family resources was this six-star Apprentice-level Professional evaluation challenge!

As long as he met the standard, the Professionals Association would naturally act as his guarantor.

“I don't want to wait until the end of next year. I don't want to compromise on my path as a Mage, and I also want to obtain more through my own strength. That is why I came here,” Folke said bluntly.

It wasn't that he had no other mage academies to choose from.

But he wanted the best!

When someone didn't covet small, immediate gains, it was usually because they desired something far greater.

“Just say whether you agree or not. For my young master to take an interest in you is your—” Seeing Ogre's hesitance, Lange couldn't hold back anymore.

“Lange, shut up. You're not allowed to interrupt from now on!” Folke tapped the wooden table with his fist and warned.

He knew Lange was still harboring resentment from before.

Looking at the two, who seemed to be playing good cop and bad cop, Ogre shrugged. “I have no other demands. I'm a very pragmatic person—just pay me.”

Ogre didn't even know if he had scraped together enough money for the forbidden elixir he planned to buy.

“Most of the apprentices I know aren't very good at fighting,” Folke explained the real reason he had sought out Ogre.

That the people of the frontier were skilled in combat was a classic stereotype. But since it had become a stereotype, it did reflect the difference in local customs.

Apprentices who weren't in frontier cities truly rarely had opportunities for real combat. After all, they had better environments and could spend their time on more important matters.

Those with outstanding talent usually didn't waste their training time for promotion on honing combat techniques.

From this perspective, Folke was indeed telling the truth. It also explained why he had immediately challenged Ogre, the strongest fighter in the Apprentice colosseum, upon his arrival.

Though the strongest in the Apprentice colosseum wasn't necessarily the absolute strongest Apprentice in this region,

they were certainly the easiest reliable Apprentice teammate to find.

This method of selection was probably taught to him by his uncle.

“Are there other teammates?” Ogre's question carried a double meaning.

First, he was asking about the state of their roster; second, he was testing how much Folke was willing to pay for his services.

“Not at the moment. I passed through several cities and couldn't find an apprentice stronger than you,” Folke lied slightly. He had actually met apprentices stronger than Ogre.

But those “genius” apprentices wouldn't risk their lives for others as easily as a colosseum fighter would.

Unless they had a specific reason, those people were usually incredibly proud—each one holding themselves above all others.

A high-star adventuring band could only apply for a single guarantee.

So Folke had ruled out Mage Apprentices early on. Of course, this was also because Mages indeed had very weak combat capabilities during their apprentice stage.

In his eyes, Ogre, who was used to living near the Forest of Monsters, was probably far more useful than those so-called stronger individuals.

“Do you have any experience fighting monsters?” Ogre asked again.

Folke and Lange exchanged a glance, then both shook their heads.

Naturally, this was within Ogre's expectations.

This was a bad thing, but also a good thing.

The bad part was that this job might not be easy to pull off.

The good part was that his bargaining power had effectively increased.

“What is the maximum number of people that can join the team?” Ogre set down his wooden mug and immediately asked the next question.

Ogre only knew that the fewer people there were in a Professional's adventuring band, the better they performed, and the easier it was to get a higher rating.

The first few stars were easy to get, but starting from the fifth or sixth, things got tough—the more deadweight there was, the harder it was to carry.

Generally, boosting others to a win like this rarely happened—because it was almost entirely pointless.

With the passage of time, the adventuring band's rating would decay.

Even if someone paid to carry them to a high rating, once the powerhouse left and they failed a few commissions, the rating would drop.

The adventurer who carried them might also face a reduction in their own star rating.

An adventuring band's rating was a combination of the overall ratings of the Professionals within it.

For each mission, individual scores were allocated based on contribution, especially during star-ascension assessments, where practical observations and tests were conducted.

Professionals with strong individual abilities and genuine skills either established their own adventuring bands or were recruited by various factions.

Carrying others was fundamentally pointless. Except for Folke's loophole-exploiting behavior, there was almost no benefit to it.

And if Folke wanted to rely on the Professionals Association's guarantee, he either had to establish his own adventuring band and climb the ranks, or join an already highly rated one to secure that sole recommendation.

Both routes were highly difficult. Highly rated adventuring bands wouldn't let Folke join so easily, either—because too wide of a gap in ability would drag down the overall score.

And once it dropped, climbing back up was an absolute nightmare.

Even those adventuring bands that wanted to cultivate newcomers wouldn't directly add them to their main roster.

“Have you decided what missions to choose?” Ogre added.

He already tacitly accepted Folke as the leader; after all, it was just a temporary arrangement for this period.

Currently, if Folke wanted to exploit this loophole, his only option was to create his own adventuring band—unlike registering for Professional qualifications, registering an adventuring band required paying a hefty sum.

The benefit was that adventuring bands were allocated missions more easily.

The Professionals Association did not place major restrictions on Professionals switching adventuring bands.

However, every switch would be noted in their personal record file.

Switching too often would have a certain negative impact.

Of course, for those solo Professionals who wanted to form groups, the Professionals Association had also arranged a reasonable system—temporary adventuring bands.

The difference between temporary and official adventuring bands was that the rating of temporary ones would often be docked by one star during evaluation, and a portion of their earnings would also be deducted by the Professionals Association.

“I already have some plans for the missions. As for personnel, there are only the three of us at the moment. I can accept at most two more people; any more would affect my plans. I cannot accept anyone too weak, as that would ruin our efficiency.”

Folke had set up this adventuring band specifically to strive for the Serris Academy quota this year.

To him, whether the rating would decline in the future didn't matter.

The adventuring band only needed to exist for a year to get him admitted.

However, this would also delay the other participating Apprentice-level Professionals, because during this period, Folke had to ensure that no members withdrew—which would also cause the score to drop.

Therefore, he wanted skilled hands, but they couldn't be official Professionals.

This requirement was quite harsh.

This was also a restriction intentionally set by the Professionals Association to select and recommend those with true ability.

Of course, if you truly possessed the ability to exploit the rules despite having so many restrictions, the association would accept it.

Usually, however, people of that caliber had their own channels.

“This will also benefit your future professional path, won't it?” Folke said with a grin.

Naturally, it wasn't nearly as great as he made it sound—if one actually joined, they wouldn't be able to raise their rating or accept missions in the Professionals Association for at least half a year.

For an Apprentice-level Professional, such a restriction was neither overly heavy nor too light—for those in the frontier city who relied on this line of work to make a living, the impact was quite significant, but for those who relied on a family system or entered an academy, it had virtually no impact.

It was hard to find willing candidates among the former, and those among the latter usually had weak combat power at this stage.

There was no other way around it. If Folke wanted to form his own adventuring band and obtain this recommendation, his best bet was to find fellow Apprentice-level practitioners.

This was because the Professionals Association didn't just classify Professionals by their individual strength, they also did the same for adventuring bands (star ratings and strength were not entirely correlated).

For adventuring bands below Silver-grade, the strength rating would be determined by the highest-ranked Professional in the group.

This meant that...

if their adventuring band had an official Professional, it would be classified as a Black Iron adventuring band, and the difficulty of earning stars would be on a completely different level.

He was looking to exploit a loophole, not to challenge his absolute limits.

“I still value immediate benefits more. However, Young Master Folke, if you need a candidate for our team, I happen to know one,” Ogre said, not particularly caring about his so-called future prospects.

He wouldn't be using this current identity of his for very long anyway.

Thus, he possessed ample confidence.

As Ogre spoke, he picked up a knife and fork, cut off a piece of steak, put it in his mouth to chew and swallow. His slow and unhurried demeanor gave Folke a bit of confidence.

The limitations of the teammates Folke was looking for were simply too great.

At the same time, this highlighted Ogre's importance. This was probably why Folke was so polite to someone from the colosseum.

Of course, the possibility that he was simply well-bred could not be ruled out either.

‘There's another expert?’ Folke's eyes widened slightly as he instinctively asked, “Who?”

He was indeed quite looking forward to the teammate Ogre spoke of.

He had been having a headache over this issue for a while.

If he couldn't exploit this loophole, he could only choose to inherit his family's quota a year later, or find a slightly inferior academy.

One could only say that everything came with its own risks.

Fortunately, a Mage's age was not as critical as a Martial Artist's; a Mage's training and improvement after reaching adulthood were very steady.

Spending more time absorbing mana at the apprentice stage wasn't useless, either. When they finally condensed their mana core, it would enhance its quality—it was just that the efficiency wasn't as high as a Professional's.

“He is a knight, a reserve Paladin. He probably wouldn't care about the Professionals Association's restrictions...”

Ogre ate the steak on his plate clean, wiped his mouth, and finally revealed the person's name. “His name is Serandic. He is a reserve Paladin here in the Church of Dawn. Well... strictly speaking, he should be considered my junior brother.”

He had to admit, the steaks here were indeed delicious; Ogre was eating much faster than usual.

Perhaps this was because Ogre had eaten a large amount of sugar yesterday. Having had his fill of sweets, he naturally developed a greater appetite for savory meats.

It wasn't that honey was bad, but rather that anything eaten in excess would eventually grow tiresome—unless it was something addictive.

And the same could be said of long, tedious training where progress offered no visible feedback.

“You can even invite people from the Church of Dawn! Right, why didn't I think of that?” Folke patted the table in excitement—he felt that this time, exploiting the loophole might actually work out.

“In terms of strength, I can guarantee there won't be any issues. However, he is a bit difficult to invite, so it might not succeed,” Ogre didn't dare to make any absolute promises.

“If that doesn't work, my only option will be to ask my uncle to recruit an archer...” Upon hearing Ogre's words, Folke's expression grew less excited.

“No, no, no, you might have misunderstood me.”

“What do you mean?” Folke asked, somewhat puzzled.

“What I mean is, as a rare Paladin, it is indeed hard to invite him to take risks, but the success rate is still very high as long as you play to his preferences. It just so happens that I'm quite familiar with this aspect.”

“You mean...?”

“It will require more money.”