Another achievement was Richard’s successful improvement to the standard Fireball spell: he had shortened the incantation time by half a second. This was the first, and most crucial, step towards an instant-cast Fireball. Since it wasn't a standard spell-quickening technique, it signified that Richard's understanding of the relevant magical principles had reached a new level. If he could later master Spell Empowering or even Spell Maximizing, Richard would possess the signature magic of powerful mages: the "Instant Great Fireball."

  Richard began carefully arranging his appearance in the mirror; those with elven blood naturally paid close attention to their looks. Today, Richard had planned a special outing for himself. He had ordered a bouquet of pure white flowers, intending to scatter them from Deepblue's upper open-air platform. It was said that the top of Deepblue neared the trade wind belt. Theoretically, if these flowers were thrown high enough and were sufficiently lucky, the perpetually blowing trade winds could carry them hundreds of kilometers away.

  Richard hoped his mother, in heaven, would be able to see them.

  As usual, Richard left his residential area, carrying the ordered bouquet, and walked towards the teleportation array leading to Deepblue's upper levels. The teleportation array could transport over a dozen people to a designated floor at once, making it the most convenient and fastest mode of transport—of course, its expense was another defining feature.

  As Richard approached the teleportation array, several young magic apprentices were already standing beside it. Among them were a few familiar faces from classes he had attended. The others, Richard had never seen before. They seemed to have been waiting for something. When Richard stepped into the teleportation array, they appeared to change their minds and crowded in together. The array wasn't large, and with several people already inside, it became quite cramped. After a few seconds of swaying, the feeling of encompassing restraint vanished—the sign of arrival. As the magical light screen descended, Richard had reached the twentieth floor of Deepblue. Here, he needed to transfer to another teleportation array to reach the fortieth floor, repeating the process until his destination, the Grand Terrace on the eightieth floor.

  Just as Richard stepped out of the light screen, a sharp pain shot through his rear—he had been kicked hard! Caught completely off guard, Richard cried out, instinctively lunging forward, only to have his feet violently tripped by an obstacle. He tumbled heavily, sliding several meters across the mirror-like black stone floor before stopping. The intense pain throughout his body momentarily prevented him from getting up, and the sudden impact left his head slightly dizzy. But the bursts of mocking laughter from behind made him realize he had just been pranked.

  That vile, underhanded sneak attack wasn't what bothered Richard most. It was the bouquet he had been holding for his mother, which had flown from his grasp when he fell, landing three or five steps away. Not only had several petals fallen off, but the bound stems were also in danger of completely coming apart. Greatly alarmed, Richard scrambled up and rushed over to retrieve the bouquet. These were his mother's favorite flowers before she died. They weren't a rare variety, but they were uncommon in the North, far from his mountain village. He had placed a special order with the florist a month in advance to receive them precisely today.

  But just as his hand was about to touch the bouquet, another hand snatched it up first.

  Richard froze instantly, slowly straightening up and looking forward. Standing before him was an adolescent mage, about fourteen or fifteen years old. He was half a head taller than Richard, his face a mask of arrogance and mockery. Dressed in an apprentice's robe, he was tilting his head, examining the bouquet in his hand. He was one of the young apprentices who had been waiting by the teleportation array earlier, and now appeared to be their leader. The other young apprentices also approached in twos and threes, subtly encircling Richard.

  Even if Richard were slow-witted, he understood now that these people had come specifically for him. What he didn't understand was how he could have provoked them, having been immersed in the world of magic and interacting with almost no one besides his instructors. Richard was certain he had never spoken a single word to any of these young apprentices. However, the exceptional memory granted by his intellect allowed Richard to vaguely recall that the boy before him was named Papan, seemingly from a minor noble family in the Sacred Alliance. He had some magical talent but wasn't particularly outstanding within Deepblue; otherwise, Richard would surely remember more details. As for his mana level... In Richard's vision, the numbers representing Papan's mana fluctuated constantly—his Precision talent automatically calculating Papan's total mana based on his fluctuations—finally settling on the number 15. Thus, Richard knew this Papan was already a Level Two mage, at least in terms of mana reserves.

  Papan turned the messy bouquet over and over in his hands, even shaking it forcefully. Besides dislodging more petals and leaves, he didn't seem to find anything interesting. He then glanced sidelong at Richard, his arrogance laced with frivolity. "So you're that Richard? Can't really see what's so special about you, that the great Lady Helen would take you as her disciple. But honestly, you do have a pretty nice ass!"

  The apprentice boys immediately burst into laughter. They clearly had experience and understood the implication. Even without experience, Richard could easily grasp it from their lewd gazes. His face flushed crimson, but his resolve allowed him to restrain his anger. He said, word by word, "Give me back the flowers!"

  "Aha, flowers! I almost forgot about this thing!" Papan exclaimed exaggeratedly. He then made a show of looking at the bouquet again, even sticking out his tongue to give it a heavy lick before saying, "Is this thing important to you? Let me guess, must be for some woman, right? I say, little Richard, I seriously doubt you've even started growing hair down there, and you're already learning from other men to give flowers to women? That's not good. Who are you giving them to? Maybe I can help you out! See, I'm a really nice guy, love helping people! But speaking of which, this bouquet is really ugly, all messed up like this." He shook the bouquet forcefully again, sending more petals and leaves fluttering down. "Looks like something you'd give to a whore..."

  "Give them back!" Richard's voice was low, like the growl of a young lion.

  "Ah! So you really like this thing..." Papan bowed slightly, bringing his face close to little Richard's, but his hand loosened, letting the bouquet fall to the ground. Before Richard could react, a nearby apprentice stomped heavily on it, then ground his heel into it several times.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  White petals scattered across the floor, damaged beyond repair. More petals groaned beneath the apprentice's shoe.

  Richard’s reaction surprised everyone. He didn't rush forward to protect the bouquet first, nor did he try to stop the apprentice. Instead, his body leaned back, then snapped forward like a fully drawn bow, his hard forehead smashing violently into Papan's still-smiling face!

  The area before the teleportation array was a main thoroughfare, so quite a few people had gradually gathered nearby. Besides a sound like crushing berries, onlookers heard the distinct crunch and crackle of breaking bone. Seeing Richard's headbutt, some of the more timid onlookers felt their own noses begin to tingle sympathetically.

  Papan’s vision suddenly went black, then was filled with reds, yellows, and all sorts of colors. The world spun, and for a moment, he had no idea where he was. In the instant the other boys stood stunned, Richard had already lunged onto Papan, grabbing his hair with both hands. Using his entire body weight as leverage, he pulled Papan's body airborne, while his hands held Papan's head firmly, aiming to smash that already blurry face viciously against the incredibly hard ground!

  If that blow landed squarely, Papan's skull would crack!

  However, in Deepblue, teeming with mages, such a vicious incident naturally wouldn't be allowed to happen. Two Level Six "Physical Immunity Shields" simultaneously appeared around Richard and Papan. The repulsive force between the shields sent Richard and Papan bouncing apart like colliding spheres.

  Mages capable of instantly casting Level Six spells were at least Level Fourteen Grand Mages. Sure enough, two middle-aged mages walked over, their faces grim. "What happened?" one asked.

  The Physical Immunity Shield was incredibly effective. Unless it absorbed enough damage, it would only dissipate when its duration expired or it was dispelled. Encased within the shield, Richard's eyes were bloodshot. He was desperately attacking the shield, trying to break free, completely ignoring the middle-aged mage's question.

  In the other shield, Papan finally recovered from his daze. Recalling the recent events, he felt both fear and fury. An almost unbearable pain radiated from his nose. He raised a trembling hand to touch it; the mangled sensation nearly made Papan faint for real. His face, which he had always been proud of, was ruined! This realization almost drove Papan insane, temporarily suppressing even the sensation of pain. He pointed at Richard and screamed maniacally, "Bastard! Do you dare have a magic duel with me?! The loser has to lick the winner's ass!"

  Hearing Papan's shouts, Richard actually calmed down. He stopped attacking the shield, even casually smoothing the sleeve that had rolled up his arm. With a solemn expression and a composure belying his age, he said, "I accept!"

  "No!" The middle-aged mage who had separated them frowned and started to object. But the other mage tugged at his robe and said, "Let them go!"

  The first mage paused, lowering his voice slightly. "But Richard is Her Ladyship's student..."

  The second mage smiled faintly and whispered back, "The challenger is Papan. He's one of Randolph's little followers. Randolph is also Her Ladyship's student. So I think the magic duel was Papan's real intention; the idiot just nearly botched it."

  The first mage understood. "This is a matter between Her Ladyship's students. We don't need to get involved. Alright, let's proceed according to the rules!"

  It was a tradition in Deepblue: if an irreconcilable conflict arose between two parties, besides overwhelming them with gold coins, overwhelming them with magic was equally effective. If one party proposed a magic duel, the other agreed, and there was no obvious disparity in strength, the duel was sanctioned and conducted under the supervision of Deepblue's Enforcement Mages. Magic duels had designated venues and assigned resident mages for protection. Using the dueling arena required a hefty deposit beforehand to cover potential damage to the facilities. The resident mage's primary duty was to protect both duelists, as the principle of magic duels was non-lethality.

  Of course, absolute fairness didn't exist. For instance, Papan's registered information listed him as a Level One mage, but his mana had actually reached the standard of a Level Two mage.

  Half an hour later, Richard and Papan stood at opposite ends of the dueling arena, twenty meters apart. Papan's injuries had received basic treatment; aside from a pale complexion, his earlier battered state was no longer visible. His blood-stained robe had been replaced with a new one, though the half-collapsed bridge of his nose looked decidedly unnatural.

  Although it was just a magic duel between Level One mages, news of the earlier conflict had spread surprisingly quickly. Due to Richard's special status, many people had come to watch. The stands, capable of seating two hundred, were completely full. The spectators appeared relaxed, greeting acquaintances and chatting casually, seemingly not treating the upcoming duel as a major event. A fight between Level One magic apprentices offered little spectacle; even if both stood still and bombarded each other with Level One spells without defense, neither would die. Besides, with their mana, they could cast at most three Level One spells each.

  In truth, most attendees harbored the thought of seeing just what was so extraordinary about Richard that Helen Su would accept him as an apprentice. If Richard were to make a fool of himself, that would be even better. Schadenfreude, watching the fortunate fall from grace, was a dark spot in many hearts.

  In a private box high above the stands, behind a one-way magic window, stood Helen Su’s other two students: Minnie and Randolph. Minnie was a tall young woman, cold, beautiful, and proud. Though young, she was already well-developed. Her austere, keep-your-distance aura was precisely the trait that most attracted the opposite sex. Randolph, on the other hand, was already a tall young man. Compared to his peers, his appearance, family background, temperament, and strength were all impeccable. If he weren't a one-in-ten-thousand genius, he couldn't possibly have become Helen Su's disciple.

  Minnie looked down from her vantage point at the two individuals in the dueling arena, whose countdown had begun. She said coldly, "Randolph, that was quite a clever idea you came up with. If Richard loses under these duel conditions, Teacher definitely won't want him anymore. But he's just a Level One mage. Is he really worth so much of your attention that you need to use such methods against him?"

  Randolph shrugged nonchalantly, smiling. "I just wanted to see what's so remarkable about this future Rune Graft. Honestly, I've never understood why Teacher wouldn't let me develop towards becoming a Rune Master. You know, the renowned Rune Graft Saint Kruss affirmed my talent in rune grafting long ago. Besides, since he's also Teacher's student, there's no reason he should lose to that trash down there, right? After all, it's only a one-level mana difference."

  Minnie scoffed, "Yes! Only a one-level difference: the difference between Level One and Level Two. Randolph, are you insulting my intelligence, or your own? And doing this, aren't you afraid Teacher will be angry when she finds out?"

  Randolph smiled arrogantly. "Teacher won't abandon a genius like me for a failure. On my monthly ledger, the entry for Teacher's Joy is often over 100,000 gold coins! Not to mention my father is... Alright, the duel is starting. Let's watch first!"

  Minnie's gaze also turned to the arena, but she seemed to mutter to herself, "But how come I heard Richard's income from that item is 500,000 gold coins per month?"

  Randolph remained silent, as if he hadn't heard Minnie's words, but his expression turned somewhat unpleasant.