Rob and Lena arrived at the robed mage’s hideout as the last remnants of daylight faded into a deep indigo.

  Rob pulled the reins, bringing the horse to a halt near the entrance. “We tie it here.”

  Lena hopped down, dusting her clothes before reaching to secure the rope. The grass here was ridiculously high—so high, in fact, that it reached up to the horse’s ankles. The beast gave a slow, thoughtful blink, looked down at the feast surrounding it, and promptly started eating.

  Lena frowned. “Uh, is that okay?”

  Rob sighed. “It’s a horse, Lena.”

  “I know, but what if it gets a stomachache? What if this is cursed grass?”

  “Then it’s a cursed horse now,” Rob said flatly.

  Blorbo, sitting atop the wagon like the most useless piece of luggage, watched as Lena poked at the grass experimentally before turning back toward the hideout. The wood was swollen, leaned to one side against the rusted hinges. The old, crooked sign still read Liquidity, and the warped wooden door still looked like it had been in a long-term abusive relationship with humidity.

  Lena squinted at it. “Huh. Looks worse than last time.”

  Rob huffed. “So this is the place you went to alone that time? Have you no care for your own safety?”

  “Like I said, I was with Blorbo!”

  She’s safe with me, don’t worry! I can walk faster than a snail now.

  Rob just sighed.

  Lena asked, “Do we knock?”

  Rob said. “You might knock the door off if you do.”

  A gust of wind whooshed past them.

  Twump.

  The robed mage dramatically jumped down from the roof.

  “Zere is no need to knock,” he announced, sweeping his arms out. “For I have anticipated your arrival!”

  Lena clutched her chest. “Lords above! Why were you on the roof?”

  “I sensed ze disturbance in ze air,” the mage continued as he flicked his sleeve. A pigeon flew out of the sleeve. “Ze winds whisper to me. Ze currents of magic shift in your presence.”

  Did he just summon a pigeon for no reason?

  “Come! Ze path to magical enlightenment awaits!” He raised a single hand, and as they followed him inside, torches along the walls lit up one by one—except for one, which flared pitifully before going out again.

  The mage coughed. “A minor… atmospheric malfunction.”

  The moment the torch fizzled out, a system notification blinked into view.

  [Sidequest Available—The Flickering Flame]

  Objective: Light up the malfunctioning torch. Somehow.

  Reward: +1 PER, +1 END, Epic Mystery Box (Containing: 70% chance to get a Basic item, 20% Rare, 10% Epic)

  Prerequisite: 30 PER (You currently have: 21 PER)

  Failure: The torch stays unlit.

  Oh come on! What kind of absolutely arbitrary nonsense was this? Why is lighting a torch, a task that requires all the magical effort of a matchstick, locked behind 30 PER?

  And why does it offer an Epic Mystery Box as a reward?! That’s the kind of loot you’d get from banishing a Candy Dragon Queen, not fumbling around with medieval mood lighting!

  There was only one way he could reach 30 PER.

  Cabbage Points.

  Blorbo knew full well how painfully difficult it was to earn those. Cabbage Points were a currency granted by the system whenever he physically ATE a cabbage. Otherwise he could only earn them through quests.

  Was he really about to gamble his precious, hard-earned points just to light a stupid torch?

  The system left the choice up to him:

  [Spend 9 Cabbage Points to increase PER to 30?]

  ? YES / NO

  Blorbo let out the longest, most suffering sigh of his existence.

  Fine. I’ll do it.

  He hovered over the YES option, mentally preparing himself for the sheer wastefulness of it all. Nine Cabbage Points—gone. Nine Cabbage Points that could’ve been spent on actual survival necessities, like passive stat boosts or resistance to soup-related burns.

  With great reluctance, he clicked YES.

  Nothing happened.

  What?

  He clicked again. Nothing.

  Wait.

  Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his focus toward the torch. The question mark above it had turned grey.

  The quest had expired.

  THE MOMENT RIGHT BEFORE HE CLICKED YES.

  YOU HARLOT-BUTTOCKED FOOL! YOU DARE PLAY ME LIKE THIS? YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!

  The mage, unaware of the cataclysmic betrayal that had just unfolded, had already walked toward his seat.

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  Lena was looking around. “We agreed on learning the basics, and no more summoning creatures from another realm. So, where do we start?”

  With legs crossed and put on his table, the mage spread his arms. “Ah! Ze fundamentals! First, we must examine ze natural inclination of your magical flow.”

  Lena straightened her back, eager. “Oh, finally! I was born ready!”

  The mage dramatically pointed a single finger at her forehead, then snapped his arm back as if he’d been electrocuted. “Ah-ha! As I suspected! Ze elemental force within you is… ze culinary arts!”

  Rob sighed. “Yes, of course.”

  “Zis is truly remarkable! Your first spell… will be a grand conjuration! Point your wand forward and repeat after me: Dulcis, Crystallum, Manifest!”

  Wait. Why does this specific chant sound so Roman? The other chants were in another language.

  Lena clapped her hands together, excitement bubbling up. “Yes! Magic time!” She shut her eyes, extended her wand, and chanted with all her might, “Dulcis, Crystallum, Manifest!”

  A tiny pop! echoed.

  When Lena opened her eyes, a single, perfectly wrapped piece of nougat sat in her palm.

  She gasped. “It worked!”

  Rob raised a brow. “Whatever shall we do with that?”

  Lena tossed the nougat into her mouth with a grin. “Duh. Eat it. If we ever run out of food money, we can munch on free nougat forever.” She chewed it. “Oooh! It tastes like peanut!”

  Who needs fireballs when you can outlast a famine?

  The mage chimed in, “Zis basic spell yields different results for different classes of mages. A basic Elemental Mage might summon a floating spot of fire, for instance.”

  “Then what do you summon with that chant?” Rob asked.

  “Lots of things,” The mage replied before doing a 360-degree spin. “Now! For other ezzential spells!”

  To his credit, the mage actually taught her normal beginner-level spells, such as a weak protective shield for blocking pebbles and aggressive geese, and a beginner-level unlocking spells that can unlock simple non-magical locks.

  After seeing the banker robed mage perform his protective spell, then tried it herself, Lena asked, “Why were your barrier dark purple and mine was pink?”

  “Ah. Ze color of the barrier differs from class to class, maybe even from lineage to lineage. Pink would be one of ze rarer colors. I suggest not casting ze barrier spell if you wish to conceal your class,” the mage replied.

  Lena gulped.

  After Lena had learned the unlocking spell, Rob gave her a pointed look. “This lockpicking skill better not awaken anything in you.”

  Lena gasped. “I would never use magic for crime, honeypie.”

  To be fair, Rob should’ve had that lockpicking skill if he isn’t such an upstanding citizen.

  I have no idea what this banker mage is trying to achieve. Why steal the knives THEN give the daughter the skills so they can be on their way and retrieve the knives you’ve stolen? It makes no sense.

  By the time she reached the fourth spell, Lena was riding a high. “Alright, what’s next? Something cool? Something powerful?”

  “Ah, zis next one is very important!” The mage waved his hands theatrically. “A light sleep enchantment! Useful for calming down restless spirits, hyperactive children, or simply getting a good nap!”

  Lena nodded eagerly. “Oh, that does sound useful.”

  “Repeat after me—Saqu Gadoga!”

  Lena took a deep breath, focused her energy, pointed her wand forward, and chanted, “Saqu Gadoga!”

  Rob raised his voice, “Your wand tip is pointed toward—”

  A barely visible twinkle fired toward Lena.

  “—yourself.”

  She wobbled.

  Her eyes drooped.

  “Oh,” she swayed. “That’s… cozy…”

  She slumped forward, onto Rob’s catching arm with a soft thud.

  Rob pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. “Of course.”

  The mage stroked his chin, nodding sagely. “Ah, ze lightweight.”

  Thus, Lena missed out on the other three spells.

  Ah, they’re just basic spells! Surely she’s not gonna miss much.

  “Alaz! Such a shame!” The mage shook his head sagely, peering down at Lena as she was fast asleep with a dumb smile on her face. “Ze next spell was Gawoni Uduliha—a weight-reducing spell zat makes objects easier to carry. Ze second spell was Agiya Woyi—ze Whispering Ear spell! Allows ze user to hear soft conversations from afar! Perfect for eavesdropping on your enemies… or your in-laws. And lastly, Gohwelodi—ze basic mending spell! Small cracks, torn cloth, broken buttons—zey would be no more!”

  Of course they are the three most useful spells. This is not going to come back to bite us later, is it?

  But who knows, maybe one day I find myself in need of eating a nougat then take a furniture nap.

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