To be precise, Richard had learned the spell Fireball—at just Level One.

  Fireball was a legendary third-level spell, unparalleled among the first three tiers, just as Helen Su was unparalleled within Deepblue. There were many legends and proverbs surrounding Fireball; the most famous was probably: "A mage who can only cast Fireball isn't a good mage." Yet, whichever way one interpreted this saying, it undeniably recognized the unique status of Fireball.

  This proverb emerged because, for low-level mages, Fireball was invaluable. It granted mages below Level Six a tangible presence on battlefields, transforming them from negligible participants into significant threats. Nearly every mage, upon reaching Level Five and gaining access to third-level magic, would first choose Fireball as their primary spell. Its relatively short three-second casting time, effective thirty-meter range, ten-meter destructive radius, and the sheer damage it inflicted—lightly wounding fortunate warriors, gravely injuring typical ones, and outright killing the unlucky—made it unmatched at its level. Here, "warriors" referred to those Level Five or below, against whom Fireball turned mages into masters of group combat. In contrast, warriors had to painstakingly fight mages one at a time—a dangerous and often fatal pursuit.

  Fireball was so potent that a craze once erupted among lower-ranked mages, all obsessively learning it. This led to the proverb's creation. The peak of Fireball research emerged when an eighth-level mage published a groundbreaking note: "On the Possibility of Killing a Magister with Five Fireballs."

  This essay changed magical history, containing every element needed for widespread popularity: a shocking title, rigorous logic, and astonishing conclusions. The original title had been "A Preliminary Exploration of the Stacking Effect of Fireball in an Enclosed Space." It concluded that twelve simultaneously cast Fireballs could threaten even an eighteenth-level magister, and under perfect conditions—every Fireball achieving critical damage in a uniquely shaped, enclosed space with the magister precisely positioned at the focal point of energy reflections—five Fireballs were theoretically sufficient.

  Initially unnoticed, the essay became sensational when someone renamed it "Kill a Magister with Five Fireballs!"

  Magisters found the article infuriating because, aside from the provocative title, its assumptions were clear, logic precise, and calculations accurate. Its conclusion, while practically improbable, was essentially correct. After all, no magister would willingly remain in a meticulously calculated confined space, letting five Fireball mages attack freely. Furthermore, magisters' powerful mental strength and precise mana control made critical hits from such low-level spells nearly impossible. Such circumstances required extreme improbability—yet lower-level mages and those with shallow magical knowledge cared little for nuance, fixating solely on "Kill a Magister with Five Fireballs!"

  Magisters found this frustrating but couldn't reasonably argue with novice mages over such details.

  Excessive obsession with a single spell was detrimental to magical progress. Eventually, a prominent archmage led dozens of mages and hundreds of apprentices in extensive research for nearly three years. Their resulting report concluded that obsessively studying Fireball hindered advancement for some mages, even limiting their ultimate magical potential.

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  This revelation caused an uproar among Fireball-focused mages, sparking fierce disputes over questionable statistical data. Despite being riddled with inaccuracies and logical flaws, these statistics were the only available reference, forcing both supporters and critics to rely upon them. Over time, frequently cited, these flawed statistics gained legitimacy. If reality contradicted them, then reality must be mistaken.

  Ultimately, angry yet powerless, Fireball specialists accepted the reality, genuinely fearing hindered progress. Though the archmage responsible lacked notable stature himself, he represented consensus among high-ranking mages who effectively dictated low-level mages' futures. Gradually, the Fireball craze subsided, ultimately benefiting magical civilization.

  This entire episode reinforced a critical truth: mage quantity mattered less than level—level determined everything.

  Yet, Fireball remained exceptional regardless of people's objective or biased opinions. Even a Level Twenty archmage confronting thousands of ordinary soldiers would likely instinctively cast a Fireball first. Decades of meticulous research spawned various metamagic techniques—Empower Spell, Maximize Spell, Quickened Spell, Instant Spell, Silent Spell, Spell Heightening, Precision Control, Spell Delay—all extensively studied specifically for Fireball. Among spells from the first five levels, none rivaled Fireball.

  After the Fireball craze subsided, the low-level mage who initially sparked the debate was immortalized as the "Five Fireball Mage," his true name gradually forgotten.

  Thanks to Deepblue's extensive library, Richard learned this complicated history alongside mastering Fireball.

  Throughout the month, only three days involved practical magic—classification, beginner's magic, and meditation. Beginner's magic was taught by another magister who largely covered theoretical concepts like elemental balance, leaving students to independently study casting techniques and gestures from provided textbooks. After weeks of observation, Richard realized Deepblue's mages loved theoretical discussions, enthusiastically diving into abstract principles while dismissing practical spellcasting techniques. Students had to figure out practicalities themselves.

  Elsewhere, such teaching would label mages charlatans or useless theorists. But in Deepblue, theory was highly esteemed. Outstanding theoretical research was a shortcut to Helen Su's favor. Aside from an elderly history professor, instructors were at least Level Fourteen—high enough to silence criticism.

  Richard learned Fireball from the textbook distributed in class. Casting and controlling it wasn't difficult; its third-level classification primarily stemmed from higher mana demands.

  Every evening, aside from necessary meditation, Richard continuously practiced spells. He mastered all six Level Zero general spells within fifteen days, achieving proficiency through repetition. Concurrently, he reviewed all spells up to third level, systematically understanding low-level magic to wisely select his first-level spell. His intelligence talent accelerated comprehension significantly; after several readings, he grasped fundamentals quickly. Unexpectedly, Richard found Fireball simpler than many first-level spells.

  Indeed, centuries of refinement had perfected Fireball, simplifying its casting precisely because simplicity equated effectiveness.

  Still youthful and intensely curious, Richard's heart raced uncontrollably when his recent calculations confirmed that his current mana exactly met Fireball’s minimum requirements.