Chapter 5
Vince spent most of the class staring at the glowing spellcode that Professor Ilyth kept suspended in the air. The neat lines of runes and operators burned themselves into his mind with every second he looked at them. He even saw a few students bent low over scraps of paper, scratching the lines down. Messy handwriting for all he could say but his stomach sank realising he had no paper on himself.
Still, he consoled himself with a thought. The spell is already in my status screen. If Artur could cast it, then the knowledge has to be in here somewhere. He’d just have to experiment later, figure out what this body of his could actually do. He hadn’t tried any magic yet, but the sight of that book rising and circling at a flick of the professor’s hand had set his curiosity ablaze.
That didn’t mean he ignored the lecture. If anything, every word hooked him deeper.
“I have displayed only an Initiate grade spellcode,” Professor Ilyth said in a clipped voice, her arms folded behind her back as she paced the front of the classroom. “It is the only grade of spell you will be allowed to practice at your current level. Even then, only after classes properly begin.”
Her eyes swept the room, making sure her words struck home.
“Students, understand this—[Ether Bolt] is mana-consumptive. You will not be able to cast it often. Not until you raise your level and expand your soul space.”
Soul space. That word was enough for a ripple of chatter to break out immediately. It buzzed on everyone’s lips. All of a sudden, excitement, whispers, and questions arose.
Vince, too, leaned forward in his chair.
Soul space… another thing to add to the list. But Professor Ilyth did not linger on it. She let the murmurs go for a few breaths before clapping her hands once.
That returned the silence.
“Now,” she said, pointing to the suspended code still glowing above them, “look at [Ether Bolt]. You will notice it has multiple components. All spellcodes are written in the Arcane Script, but the critical parts are the runic terms you bind together.”
Her finger traced the script midair.
“[Ether Bolt] requires at least two core runes—A summoning one and a shaping one. But,” her voice grew serious, “those alone will not give you [Ether Bolt].”
A few apprentices frowned at the sentence, looking at the spellcode.
Professor Ilyth’s eyes sharpened.
“You will also need to add intensity and dimensions to your code,” she said and raised her arms. “Only then you move to assign a target, or allow the spell to be guided as you cast. In battle, mages are not waving their hands and hoping for miracles. They are doing calculations—fast, precise calculations—so their spell finds the right target at the right time.”
Her lips curved into something between a smile and a sneer.
“There are artifacts that can assist with this… but none of you will be touching those. You will master your basics first before daring to think of shortcuts.”
Murmurs rippled across the room again. Vince stayed silent, eyes locked on the glowing script.
“A basic [Ether Bolt],” the professor continued, “will be more than enough to kill a beast of your own grade—except those with natural resistance to flame. Even then, there are workarounds. Remember this: spellcodes themselves have no limits. The only limits are the ones you choose to write into the code. And yes, it is wise to do so. Too much freedom in a code leads to disaster.”
She gave a slight wave, dismissing the thought for now. “But that discussion is for those who commit to my course.”
She moved smoothly back into her lecture, shifting to other components of the [Ether Bolt] code—parts she hadn’t projected, the hidden pieces that apprentices weren’t ready to touch yet.
Vince barely heard the words. His mind raced with every comparison. Spellcodes were programs. Not Java, not Python, but the same logic all over again—variables, conditions, outputs, execution. Arcane Script was a language, a strange one, but still a language.
And like any language, it had rules. Rules he could learn.
By the tone in Professor Ilyth’s voice, not all of those rules were public. She spoke carefully, as though holding back. How much of the Arcane Script was known? How much of it was hidden away? And how much of it could he dig out on his own?
Curiosity burned through him, crushing all his questions about this world for a brief moment. It was the same feeling he’d had years ago, the day he first opened a blank editor and typed out lines of code just to see if they worked. He hadn’t wanted fame or fortune then—only the joy of building something from nothing.
Now, he felt it again.
Magic was code. And he wanted to build.
Vince felt a small spark of something he hadn’t felt in a long time—the excitement of building and testing. Life and college had drained him dry, conditioning him with dread, tears, and unrewarding hard work. The grind of his previous life had left him unwilling to even think about going back to college again.
But this lecture… it was exactly what he needed. It had poured a little fuel back into the flame.
Professor Ilyth waved the floating code away with a sharp motion of her hands. Her eyes scanned the room as she spoke. “That was your introduction to spellcodes. I have shown you one example and explained it. Know this, that gives you no right to practice it anywhere in the academy or outside. Both Volkun Academy and Elkan city do not need more explosions. Keep that in mind, or you will face severe consequences you will not like. Do not come telling me that I didn’t warn you.”
Her voice had that bite of warning, and Vince thought, maybe a little of a dare. He could almost see the way she expected some of them to try anyway. A few apprentices shifted in their seats like guilty children. Vince did not care much for the threat itself—he understood the rules and doubted it applied to him anyway—but he noted how the professor watched, as if marking who might step over the line.
When the doors suddenly opened, students rose and spilled out into the corridor. Ilyth watched them go, hands folded, then turned away as the hall started to empty.
For a brief second, Vince thought about going up to her, about asking questions and talking about the code she had shown. He imagined the words tumbling out of him: ideas, corrections, the way the spell looked like a program. It was all exciting—too exciting for him to not try.
But the thought died as fast as it came. He had no footing here. He was still learning about his current body, still unsure how people would react if he drew attention. Approaching her now would only make him look strange, and the last thing he wanted was for a professor to be suspicious that it’d attract unnecessary eyes.
So he did the quieter thing. He fell in with the stream of apprentices, keeping his head low and blended with the crowd. He would watch, listen, and learn from the shadows for now.
That made him think again—the library; where he wanted to go when he stepped out of his room, could wait, only until he knew how to move without tripping over suspicion.
They hit the corridor toward the grounds but he didn’t bother trailing after the other apprentices, no matter how curious he was about what other introductory lessons might be happening in the academy. If luck held, those classes would run again tomorrow.
He could slip in then and catch up.
Right now, there was only one thing he wanted—to get back to his room, dig into whatever scraps of knowledge Artur had left behind, and maybe… maybe try magic for himself.
Just thinking about it quickened his steps.
Finding his way back to the dormitory wasn’t hard. Volkun Academy stretched massive in every direction, a maze of towering halls and courtyards, but Vince had always been good with directions. Even so, he doubted he had seen even a quarter of it. For all its size, the paths were eerily empty. Just like the last two times, he met no one on his walk back. Not a single apprentice, not even a stray voice carried through the halls.
I’ll ask Randall about it the next time I see him—if I see him, he decided. The students from Professor Ilyth’s class looked like first-years, bright-eyed and new. If the diary was right, Vince—or rather, Artur—was supposed to be a second-year already at the end of his semester. Though, something didn’t add up in his mind.
His thoughts were everywhere when he reached the door and unlocked it.
Slipping inside, he paused in his tracks.
Ugh, his nose scrunched in disgust as he saw the summoning circle that was still on the floor.
He stared at it blankly for a moment, jaw tight, before forcing his eyes away. Not the time to think about that. He reminded himself of the far more interesting things that caught his mind today and crossed the room.
He pulled the books that he’d stacked to the side closer.
“Let’s look at what Artur has been learning.”
One cover caught his attention at once: Theory of Spellcode. The title made his pulse jump. It sounded exactly like the kind of thing Professor Ilyth would have assigned in her class.
He skimmed the others: Elemental Arcane Script: Foundations, Beginner Combat as a Mage, and a few thinner tomes with cracked bindings and smudged ink. All useful, all things he should probably study. But Vince’s fingers lingered on the Theory of Spellcode.
He should definitely read that one. That would have a lot of important things. Printing the cover to his mind, he kept it on the neat stack to his left.
And finally, he pulled out another book from the stack that turned out to be exactly what he needed. The title stamped on the cover made his breath catch: Spells for Initiates.
He wasted no time. The book hit the desk with a soft thud, the chair scraped across the floor, and Vince pulled it close, flipping open the cover.
His eyes widened.
To his surprise, the book explained spells in a much more detailed way than he had expected.
Every chapter broke down one Initiate grade spell in detail: a description, the full spellcode written in Arcane Script, and pages of instructions on how to calculate mana, intensity, and dimensions before even attempting to cast. After that came blank pages, clearly meant for students to copy the code, scribble their adjustments, and solve the calculations.
It almost felt like a deadly math textbook.
Flipping further, Vince saw that Artur had barely touched it. A handful of pages bore cramped notes and scribbles, but most of the blanks remained pristine. Whoever Artur had been, he hadn’t practiced half the spells in here. Vince glanced at his status screen in memory, recalling what spells were listed, then looked at the first few spells presented here. The match was clear. Artur had learned only the first three.
And luckily, they were all described in good detail.
The first was [Ether Bolt]—the same spell Professor Ilyth had shown the class earlier. Simple in description, but Vince could tell from the structure and calculations that it could easily get out of hand. A bolt of fire energy. Basic, yes, but deceptively complex.
The second was [Arcane Shell]. A barrier meant to wrap around the caster’s body, protecting against spells and even some physical blows. The book wasn’t clear on its limits—how far it extended, how strong it was—but Vince traced the calculations with his finger and guessed it would only cover the torso at his current grade.
And the third was [Glyph Bind]. A binding spell. It created a glowing tether of magical energy—about two meters long—that could lash out, hold, or strangle an enemy in place. A control spell, crude but effective.
Vince leaned back in his chair, staring at the open book. Offense. Defense. Control.
It felt almost too neat. Like someone had set up a beginner’s toolkit for him. In RPG terms, it was a starter build. Enough to let him fight, survive, and get creative.
That was a good starter pack for him, and Vince could hardly sit still. His fingers drummed on the desk, his chest tight with anticipation and he wanted to sprint out of the chair and practice. The book had not only given him the codes but also explained how to cast them. He had seen Professor Ilyth do it with effortless grace.
So, why should he wait?
Exactly, why wait? When I could just cast it and see for myself.
[Ether Bolt] was out of the question. Trying it inside his dorm was just begging for fire alarms and unwanted attention. But [Glyph Bind] seemed simple, controlled, and non-destructive. Safe enough for a first attempt.
He bent over the open pages, his lips moving silently as he read the spellcode again and again.
His eyes traced each rune, each operator, until the lines blurred, but he didn’t let himself look away. When he was sure he had memorized every part, he leaned back, shut his eyes, and followed the instructions written in the book: Imagine the spellcode in your mind as if you were writing it on paper.
At first, nothing happened. Only darkness pressed against the inside of his eyelids, heavy and dull.
He expected it. He expected for nothing to happen at first attempt, but he kept at it.
He kept at it even after twenty minutes until his eyelids felt heavy and something shifted.
A strange sensation stirred inside him, faint at first, like pins brushing against his skin. It spread slowly, crawling down his veins, and soon it felt like liquid static was moving through his body. His skin prickled.
And when he focused harder, he saw it. Not with his eyes, but somewhere deeper inside of him.
***
[Spell Start]
Rune(Light) + Rune(Shape: Rope) + Rune(Direction: Target)
Length = 2m
Strength = CasterMana * 0.1
Duration = Maintain Concentration and mana
[Invoke: Glyph Bind]
[Spell End]
***
The spellcode began carving itself into the space of his mind—lines of glowing script etching into the darkness, rune after rune slotting into place.
His heart leapt, excitement flooding through him.
He pressed on, building it piece by piece exactly as the book described. His mind filled in each variable carefully, his focus narrowing until there was nothing else.
But there was a small issue, each of the syllables of the code seemed to pull something out of him, a slow drain that left his chest a little emptier each time.
Sweat gathered at his temples. His heartbeat thudded in his ears. His body screamed to stop, but his will pushed him forward. He was close. Too close to quit now.
The last line clicked into place.
Something clamped tight around his chest, a sudden tug like invisible hands gripping his heart. An unseen drain opened up, pulling energy out of him in a steady stream.
Then warmth burst in his palms.
Vince’s eyes snapped open.
Between his hands, light gathered. It spun like a living thread, strands weaving together until a rope of golden radiance hung heavy in his grasp. It pulsed and glowed till it illuminated the cracks in the ceiling and cast a shimmering reflection across the floor.
The rope stretched outward until it solidified fully—two meters long, just as the book described. He didn’t touch it, but he could tell that the chain wasn’t made of silks or chains, but something between, flowing runes that glistened along its length.
The same thought ran through his mind again and again—it was alive, and it was his and he could… control it.
Vince’s breath caught. His hands trembled as the weight of what he’d done sank in.
He had cast a spell. For real.
Even though it took him some time for the process, now it sank in.
He stared at the rope in his hands, the glow spilling across his skin, the steady drain of energy tugging at his chest. His pulse quickened with the thrill of it.
Magic, real magic.
His eyes darted to the wooden dustbin tucked in the corner. A target.
He stood up and swung the rope experimentally, then hurled it forward. The golden tether lashed out, but his aim was off; it whipped past the bin and fizzled into the wall before snapping back. Vince cursed under his breath. His aim had never been great.
He tried again. The rope struck the dustbin squarely this time, a satisfying thump as the light slapped against the wood. But instead of wrapping around, it bounced back limply.
“Alright… once more,” he muttered, gathering focus, the rope pulsing hotter in his grip.
But then the world tilted. A queasy wave rolled through him.
His throat dried, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, and the exhaustion came suddenly, sharp and heavy. His knees wobbled.
Instinct made him release the spell.
The moment he stopped visualizing the code, the rope vanished, unraveling into golden motes that winked out one by one. The sudden absence left his palms tingling, as though the energy still wanted to flow but had nowhere to go.
Vince raised a trembling hand, staring at the faint sweat beading across his brow, at the shake in his fingers. What the hell was that? Why did it—
Before he could think deeper, a knock rattled the door.
“Artur, it’s me.” Randall’s voice came, muffled through the wood.
Vince jerked towards the door, wiping his forehead quickly with his sleeve. His knees buckled but he stood straighter and moved to the door, pulling it open.
Randall stood there, tall as ever, his eyes landing first on Vince’s sweat-streaked face, then flicking to the pile of books strewn on the desk. He stared longer before coming back to Vince.
“I just came to tell you,” Randall said evenly, “that I took care of the grimmaw problem. But it looks like I interrupted you… what’s this? Practicing for Professor Blake’s repeat exam?” He hummed in approval. He leaned slightly forward and looked around. “Are you learning a new offensive spellcode to try against the beast he throws at you?”
Vince froze. His eyes widened, the words sticking in his throat.
“What… beast?” he asked. “And what exam?”