Excited, since I’ve been waiting for this all morning, I head into the forest. Once I’m far enough from the village, I unsheathe my new sword.

  The light magic instructor seems a bit stingy with mana potions. Even though I used up all my mana during his class today, he didn’t give me a single one. I think that frugality, along with his obsession with healing magic as the most fundamental spell in the light school, comes from how seriously he takes being a battlefield healer. He’s nothing like the academy professors.

  Since I need mana, I take the little pup out of my backpack pocket and bring him close to my face.

  “Healing lick, please,” I ask.

  He barks, and immediately, I feel his wet tongue on my cheek, along with the wonderful sensation of regaining some mana. For a mage, running out of mana feels like being in a state of mental exhaustion.

  Next, I apply channeling to the queen mother’s sword. My first instinct is to use fire, but I correct myself just in time and go with water. They haven’t asked me to level it up yet in order to continue progressing in the other two elements, but I have a feeling that if I neglect it, my specialization will eventually require it.

  The blade takes on a faint bluish aura, as if it were radiating a glow that made the surrounding air shimmer. So far, everything seems normal. I’d like to test the extra damage, but I’m not going to cut into a tree branch or trunk just to see how easily I can do it—poor tree. If I run into a wild boar, I’ll try it out then. I think I could take on several by myself now, and since I have my major protection necklace, my life wouldn’t be at risk. And don’t forget, I have the wolf with me, of course.

  The next step is to apply another channeling effect to my sword: air.

  But I can’t. I don’t even manage to use up mana. I take a few deep breaths to clear my mind and focus on my favorite offensive element—fire. I begin the spell, picturing the blue glow merging with a crimson one, intertwining like tongues of flame and water. For a moment, it feels like it’s going to work—I almost sense that internal pull that signals I just spent mana. But no. Nothing. The sword only channels water.

  I guess either it’s impossible, or I don’t have the level or requirements for it. I check my stats. My mana is still at three points. At least I only spent the two points needed for water channeling.

  What if the issue is the order of the elements? I could try channeling fire first and then earth.

  I hesitate, though—because of the mana cost.

  Originally, my plan was to help the wolf pup hunt before meditating. If I cast fire channeling now, I’ll be left with only one point of mana out of the five I recovered from the lick—half of my nine, rounded up. And one point isn’t enough to channel earth. So, if I want to test this right now, I’ll have to meditate first.

  Hmm…

  I think it’s better to hunt first and meditate later. That way, I can spend the mana I have left.

  Since the water channeling effect wears off while I’m mulling this over, I sheathe my sword and crouch down near the pup, who has been standing at my feet since I took him out of my backpack pocket.

  “Let’s hunt for you, so you can level up. Shift to the biggest size you can,” I ask.

  He barks twice, excited by the idea, and grows to the size he sometimes uses—like when I woke up in the carriage after the dungeon, and he was curled up in Mary’s lap. He’s still a pup, but he no longer looks like a newborn that fits in my pocket.

  “Is this your max size?” I ask, curious.

  He shakes his head.

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  Aww … He’s so cute, especially when he tries to communicate with me through gestures. Ugh, I just want to smother him with hugs and kisses. But I hold back and start walking.

  “Let’s go.”

  My goal is for him to catch something small, like a rabbit.

  My first thought is to hit one with a fire arrow, and if it survives, the pup can finish it off. But what if it runs off and sets the forest on fire? That’s happened before. Not this exact scenario, but similar screw-ups in MMORPGs when I acted without thinking. So, I should use another spell instead.

  With a water splash, there’s no fire risk, and I’d get to level up the spell. But I’d have to get really close to the rabbit… Could I manage that? I mean, I’m a runner, but still…

  I stop overthinking when I imagine the pup laughing at me for not being able to catch even one. Traps—I need traps. Then, I come up with the perfect idea: I’ll trap them from a distance using earth magic.

  Pleased with myself, I spot a rabbit and summon several curved stakes from the ground, quickly forming a cage around it.

  And that only cost one mana point.

  “Your turn,” I tell the wolf pup. He barks and pounces on his prey.

  Alright… It’s a chubby rabbit, almost as big as the pup. But it’s an herbivore—it doesn’t have claws, and its teeth aren’t meant for tearing flesh like my little wolf’s. He struggles a bit, mostly because he can’t fit his head between the stakes, but he can reach in with his paws. Eventually, he manages to kill it.

  I check his status—his experience progress has gone from 5% to 10%. Assuming he needs the same amount as everyone else, the rabbit must have given him one point of experience, and he still needs 18 more.

  Perfect. I still have two mana points. Let’s get more.

  It takes a while, but we end up catching two more rabbits, bringing the pup’s progress to 20% toward level 4.

  I decide it’s time to meditate. I could use one more healing lick, but I’d rather save it. Plus, I want to train meditation too, so I can level it up.

  I look for a quiet spot. At first, I consider heading to the stream nearby, but I discard the idea—water sources attract too many animals. Instead, I find a small clearing and tell the pup to keep watch, just in case a wolf approaches. I haven’t seen any in this part of the forest, but better safe than sorry.

  Then, I sit up straight with my legs crossed, and try to mimic the meditation posture my real mother used when practicing yoga in our living room. I’m not very good at it, but I’ll learn. I adjust myself as best as I can and activate minor meditation.

  Immediately, I feel as if the energy flows within my body become more distinct, more perceptible. With my eyes closed, I can sense them coursing through me, and I begin to visualize them—though I don’t know if it’s real or just my imagination. I enter a trance-like state, where everything boils down to following those currents of energy, not just mana but vitality as well, watching how they converge in a core before branching out again, circulating through my body and extending slightly beyond my skin.

  I have no idea how long I remain in that state where time itself feels infinite. At some point, I become aware of my surroundings again—the sounds of the forest, the cool night breeze…

  Wait. Night?!

  I snap my eyes open.

  Yep.

  Oh no… I missed dinner.

  When I started meditating, it was just before sunset. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I wasn’t thinking—I just wanted to improve my skills. I forgot that each mana point takes twenty minutes to regenerate, and judging by my status, I’ve recovered all nine. That means I was out for three hours.

  Well… might as well keep going.

  I activate earth channeling on my sword. I use this first since it boosts the weapon’s durability instead of its damage, so maybe it’s the best base element. I spend the mana, and there it is—the brownish glow. I focus on channeling fire next.

  Just like before, it feels like I’m close—but it doesn’t work. I don’t lose mana either.

  Since I’m already here, I might as well see if I can hunt a wild boar.

  I’m not far from the area I hunted in last time. I push aside my guilt, promising myself that on a weekday, I won’t do this again—I’ll go straight from class to the academy.

  I spot three wild boars. Using earth control and earth channeling, I create reinforced stakes that pierce through two of them, stabbing into their bellies and exiting through their backs. They’re wounded and unable to move.

  “Go” I tell the puppy.

  I draw my sword, channel water into it, and move toward the remaining wild boar. As it charges, I sidestep its attack and slash its side as it rushes past.

  If my calculations are correct, that’s one point of damage from the sword, one from the sword’s magic with that kind of damage, one from the water channeling, and one more from the sword’s magic—four in total. And that’s assuming I didn’t land a critical hit by striking the gut or another vulnerable spot, which would have increased the sword’s base damage to two.

  The wild boar turns, moving more sluggishly now, and charges at me again, attempting to bite. Blood drips from its wound, matting its fur and staining the ground.

  I finish it with another slash.

  I wipe my sword clean on an unbloodied part of the boar’s hide before sheathing it.

  Congratulations! Your sword mastery has increased from Minor to Low. You gain +1 Strength.