Chapter 54 Training (3)
Argider lingered in the library for hours, the quiet ticking of the ancient clock marking her slow, methodical progress.
By the time the fourth hour rolled around, she had gained more Conscience and Openness points than she knew what to do with.
Of course, they promptly hit their ceiling at level five, leaving her scratching her head in frustration.
Apparently, her Personality Development Stages were stuck at a measly level one, which meant she couldn't advance further until she completed some quests.
Her patience waned as the candlelight flickered low. "Personality stages," she muttered under her breath. "What's next, emotional boss fights?"
Groaning, Argider pushed herself up from her chair, the wooden legs scraping across the stone floor.
She wandered through the rows of shelves until her eyes landed on a particularly enticing title: Foundations of Arcane Theory.
It wasn't exactly a thrilling read, but it promised answers, and Argider was determined to learn. Cracking it open, she dove into the dense descriptions of mana, spells, and their origins.
"Mana," she whispered, running her finger down the page. "The lifeblood of magic, drawn from the soul and shaped by will."
The text described Mana Points or MP as the measure of a caster's magical energy, with Mana Capacity acting as the ceiling that dictated how much one could hold at any time.
Argider frowned. "So, like a magical wine glass? Fill it up, take a sip, hope you don't spill it all over yourself?" She glanced at the rows of diagrams detailing how mana flowed through the body like rivers in a landscape.
The description was captivating, but Argider needed a more hands-on explanation. With a decisive nod, she straightened her back and summoned her trusty magical interface.
"Magic Interface, open!"
[Loading...]
[Processing...]
— [COMMAND ACCEPTED!]
....
—[Rank]
Arcane Novice
—[Level]
One
—[Class]
Magic Bestower
—[Experience XP]
10/20
—[Mana Capacity]
100/100 MP
—[Mana Regeneration]
5 MP/min
Your journey continues at empire
—[Mana Potential]
Unknown
—[Control]
10%
—[Bestowal Energy (BE)]
50/50 BE
—[Casting Speed]
3.0 seconds/spell
—[Efficiency]
50%
—[Magic Skills]
Level One: Magic Activation ▪︎5/10
...
As she scanned the display, her eyes landed on her Mana Capacity.
Mana Capacity: 100/100 MP
Mana Regeneration: 5 MP/min
"Ugh," Argider groaned, tilting her head. "That's… not great. Is that the magical equivalent of being winded after walking up the stairs?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn
She squinted at the next line:
Level: 1
"Level one," she mused. "I'm officially a magical toddler."
She continued skimming, her mood lifting slightly as the numbers began to make sense. Beneath, the Skills section was equally barebones:
Magic Activation
She raised her hand, a faint golden glow flickering to life around her fingertips as she flowed her mana to its point.
It was small, subtle, but undeniably hers.
"Not bad," she admitted, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. "But I need more than a party trick."
Her gaze swept back to the interface, where her Bestowal Energy (BE) stat blinked invitingly.
BE Capacity: 50/50
Regeneration: 5 BE/hour
"Bestowal Energy? What's that?"
The System flicketed and immediately displayed a text infront of her.
"Bestowal Energy," she murmured aloud, testing the words as if they were a new spell on her tongue. "The essence of magic that's not meant for me, but for someone else."
The idea was both exhilarating and terrifying. BE was not like mana, the personal fuel every mage used to cast their spells. No, this was something deeper, rarer. It was magic meant to give rather than take.
"Imagine," the system had said, "a river that flows not into your fields but into your neighbor's, nourishing lands beyond your own. Bestowal Energy is the act of diverting the current of magic to another, gifting them what they lack—even if only temporarily."
She understood now why BE wasn't infinite. Unlike mana, which replenished naturally over time, BE was like drawing from the wellspring of her soul.
It required care, balance, and a steady hand to avoid draining herself completely.
The text had explained that BE could temporarily grant someone a fragment of her magic—a flicker of light for the magically blind, a sliver of power for the ordinary.
She could enhance a weapon, imbue an ally with the ability to sense mana, or even share her affinity for light magic, if only for a few fleeting moments.
But it came with limits depending on their level and rank. For now, she could only activate magic.
Argider frowned as she reread. Bestowal wasn't simply about giving away magic.
"Too much," the book had warned, "and you may weaken yourself permanently. Too little, and the gift will falter, unstable and useless. A Bestower must balance their generosity with their own survival."
Argider let her head fall back against the chair, staring at the vaulted ceiling above.
The chandeliers spun faintly, their lights twinkling like distant stars. "Generosity with limits," she mused, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "How very human."
BE wasn't just power; it was purpose. It wasn't about blasting fireballs or summoning storms; it was about connection.
Argider could give others a chance to shine, to become more than they thought possible, if only for a moment.
Still, she couldn't help but feel the weight of it. What if she bestowed her energy to someone who didn't deserve it? What if they used her gift for harm? The thought was enough to make her brain hurt.
"Alvator, I know you're there," said Argider, not even bothering to look up from her notes.
"Impressive," Alvator drawled, floating into the light. "You're actually studying."
"It's... cool," Argider admitted reluctantly, gesturing to the glowing magical interface hovering beside her. "I have to admit, maybe this power isn't that bad."
Alvator smirked, but before he could offer one of his usual sarcastic remarks, a sudden flutter of wings broke the silence.
A small bird—a robin with bright, curious eyes—swooped through the open library window and landed lightly on the edge of Argider's table.
"Well, hello there," Argider murmured, tilting her head at the bird. It hopped closer, seemingly unbothered by their presence, and tilted its head in return as if mimicking her.
"Perfect timing," Alvator said, his voice taking on a mischievous edge.
Argider blinked. "Huh?"
"Let's do our first test," Alvator said, his grin widening.
"What test?"
"Activate the magic in the bird."
Argider stared at him as though he'd suggested she juggle flaming swords. "What? Why would a bird have magic? And why would I—?"
"It's harmless," Alvator interrupted, waving away her protests. "It shouldn't require much mana, and it's an excellent chance to practice your Bestowal. Besides"—he gestured to the robin, who remained unnervingly calm—"this little guy doesn't seem like he's going anywhere."
Argider glanced at the bird, who chirped softly and tilted its head again. It didn't flinch, didn't flutter away. It almost seemed... expectant.
"Well, alright," she muttered, rolling up her sleeves. "If this goes wrong, I'm blaming you."
"You'll thank me later," Alvator said, stepping back with a flourish.
The Emperor took a deep breath, holding out her hand. A faint flicker of light appeared at her fingertips, her mana responding to her will. Slowly, she reached out to the bird, her fingers brushing gently against the top of its head.
The effect was instantaneous. A warm, golden glow enveloped the robin, growing brighter and brighter until Argider had to squint against the light. Then, just as suddenly, it faded, leaving the bird looking... exactly the same.
Both she and Alvator leaned in, staring at the robin as though it might sprout a second head.
"What magic do you have, little bird?" Argider asked softly, her voice tinged with curiosity.
The robin tilted its head the other way, seemingly considering her question. For a long, agonizing moment, it remained silent.
"God. Why do I feel so fucking weird?" The bird spoke exasperatedly.
Argider froze, her hand still half-extended. Alvator, for once in his life, seemed at a loss for words.