The God of Magic: Archmage Academy (OP, LitRPG)

Sen walked through the halls of Brightsail Academy with Professor Sikar after a wonderful night out with his friends. After all the celebrating, socializing, and the intense duel against Snake, Sen’s bed was more tempting than ever. But Sikar had promised his rank reward, and that was too tempting to pass up. Not to mention Sen’s mana was still abuzz from his private moment with Milim. He wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to rest anyway.

“I thought Crosp would be the one to hand these out, since he’s the new dean and all,” Sen said. Their footsteps echoed against the fourth floor of Brightsail Academy. He walked past classrooms, facilities, and offices he’d never have a need to step inside now. He’d bypassed these things by virtue of beating someone who hadn’t. Still, it was an odd feeling, knowing his time at Brightsail was coming to an end. Since coming to this world, he’d spent most of his time here, among these walls and its students. He’d made friends. He’d made enemies. Through it all, he’d gained more knowledge about this world and surpassed his former power more with each new day.

Higher levels. More spells. New artifacts. About eight months had passed since he, Mori, and Ilm had traveled from the past to this new time. Now, he started to wonder what was ahead. Would he regret leaving the academy? No, he’d regret not finding out what else was out there. He had an entire continent to explore. A whole world. The mountains he’d seen in the distance, the desert, the ocean. It sounded pleasant, sitting in the sand and listening to the waves crash in the background. No, he’d certainly miss the academy, but he couldn’t stay here any longer.

It was time to move on.

Sikar let Sen’s statement sit for a while before speaking. It turned out it was because he had something to share. “I’ll be leaving the academy after this semester.”

Sen stopped walking. He turned to look at the professor. “What? Why?” he asked. That was unexpected. Professor Sikar was probably the professor he’d worked with the most. Their hours spent in the forge, studying weapons and armors. Crafting Malleore together, the weapon that had served him faithfully ever since. Their invasion of Harpis Castle. If there was one man Sen associated the most with Brightsail Academy, it was Sikar. Even though he’d be moving on as well, part of him had enjoyed the idea Sikar would still be here should he ever return.

“These past semesters have left me wanting more from the world. I’ve done a lot here in my time at the academy. I’ve been able to watch some of the brightest minds grow up and graduate. Even learned some things myself.” He nodded his head to Malleore. “But the world is changing. This past year was proof of that. The cults are growing bolder, and I want to be out there, doing more. I have an opportunity to do that now. So, I’m going to take it. I’m not the only one, Ladia’s leaving too. But Dean Crosp has it handled. He has plenty of academic connections, and it’s not like Brightsail isn’t the foremost academy in the country now, if not the world. Thanks to you, there won’t be any shortage of professors vying to come teach here.” Sikar stopped at a blank stretch of wall and paused. He looked in both directions before casting a reveal illusion spell.

A door appeared with the Brightsail Academy logo on it. A sailboat with rays coming from the sails.

Sen quirked an eyebrow. Sikar smiled and pushed the door open. He closed it as soon as Sen followed him through, and the illusion returned, leaving a blank wall behind them. A small, three-step stairway led them into the secret room. The far wall was full of curved glass panels that faced the town of Bright Sail. The view stretched into the distance behind the academy. Sen caught the hint of an illusion. From inside you could stare out, but to outside observers, the window would look like a wall. Barriers reinforced the entire room. So whatever was in here was important.

But beside the curved windows of the room and the well-polished wooden floors, the room was empty. “Another illusion?” Sen asked.

Sikar smiled. “Stand in the center, here,” he pointed to a specific spot on the ground. Sen followed his instructions and waited.

Sikar cleared his throat, looked toward the window, and spoke clearly. “I present the top student of Brightsail Academy, first-year turned fourth-year, Sen Locke.”

The room filled with mana, and the room around them shook in what felt like an earthquake. Sen steadied himself with his mana, forming a barrier with his reserves. The sensation settled down. From above, a pedestal descended from the ceiling until it sat directly in front of Sen. Atop it was a book. It had no text, but it too had the symbol of Brightsail Academy on it.

Sen turned to glance at Professor Sikar.

The man was smiling. “This book is the inheritance of Brightsail. A technique passed down to only a single student each year. The student who tops the ranking list. Traditionally, it has always been a fourth-year student, but…well, your time here has been anything but traditional.”

Sen’s heart raced. That meant whatever this prize was, it was rare. An inheritance? Was it a spell? It had to be right? What spell would Brightsail Academy consider so valuable that they’d present it to one student a year?

Sen reached out to touch the book slowly. He wanted to savor every moment. The anticipation of it. The endless possibilities. He shot one last look at Sikar, who nodded encouragement.

Then he opened the book and felt knowledge flow into him. His mana buzzed, his wards shook, his senses flooded with stimuli.

An endless stream of books passed by him in the most vivid illusion he had ever seen. He heard a door close and realized Sikar had left the room. Whatever he was about to experience was his, and his alone.

Then, he saw an image of a man standing in front of him. He was an old man with an extremely long, white beard and a blue robe with Brightsail’s symbol emblazoned on it. He leaned forward and studied Sen for a moment. “Well, hello! Are you him? Sen Locke? The one the professor presented?” he asked.

Sen nodded slowly. “Yes…who are you?”

The man smiled. “I’m the first Dean of Brightsail Academy. Dean Jonathan. Give me a moment to ascertain the status of things.” The old man’s beard trailed nearly down to the floor, and as he strolled about bobbing his head, his feet kicked it accidentally a time or two. “I see. So Remias is gone?” he perked up. “That’s excellent news.” He noticed the confused look on Sen’s face. “Ah, not all of us deans were fond of Remias. Not all of us went along with his plan. Some of us resisted. This inheritance is the culmination of a technique I cast during my time as dean. So many teachers, faculty members, students, and deans have contributed. Whether knowingly or not.”

Sen paused at that. “Then…you used a technique similar to that of Remias?” he asked.

Jonathan’s eyes widened at that. “Absolutely not! That scoundrel hoarded knowledge. This book does just the opposite. It takes from those willing to share. The students who tutored others, the teachers who stayed late to help struggling students, those loyal, studious members of the student representatives. Acts of selflessness, acts of bestowing knowledge to those who lack it, those actions fuel this spell. It seems you have fueled it quite a lot, Sen Locke. You gifted artifacts, weapons, and spent your own time training others. Others who grew much stronger than they would have otherwise. Your reward will be well worth it.”

Sen swallowed at that. He wasn’t sure how to take any of this. “What exactly…is this reward?”

Jonathan beamed. “It depends on the student. That boy, Snake for instance, if he had remained the top student, the quality of the reward he received would have been diminished. He shared nothing during his time here. He learned, he trained, he fought. But he gave nothing back. This book was meant to build up those who share knowledge, not those who hoard it.”

Sen frowned. If he were being honest, there were plenty of things he wasn’t willing to share with the world. There were some things better kept to oneself. Imagining some of his worst and most powerful techniques in the hands of someone like Snake led him to dark places. “Not all knowledge should be shared,” he said, though realizing that might be a mistake.

Jonathan nodded. “I don’t disagree, but to me, it seems you shared knowledge and power with no consideration of your own gain. This book was made for someone like you. Sometimes it passes on a spell. Sometimes a new artifact or weapon is created. I wished to strengthen those who strengthen others. It was an act of defiance against Remias, who used others to strengthen himself.”

“Surely Remias had to be aware of what you were doing, was he not? Why would he allow that?”

Jonathan chuckled. “The ranking system encourages students to push themselves, and Remias benefited from that when he stole their knowledge. In truth, each of us had something to gain. My creation of the ranking system pushed students to grow stronger. Remias could steal the techniques of more powerful students, and I could strengthen the knowledge givers among them. At least in years where someone like you reached the top spot.” The first dean of the academy turned and lifted a hand. The book on the pedestal floated into the air. Sen watched it carefully.

The book flipped open rapidly, each page slapping against the next until finally it came to a sudden halt.

A surge of magic escaped the page before him.

[New Maximizer acquired. Alumnus.]

[Alumnus - Allows one to bolster a spell with the power of their colleagues, but the call must be answered willingly. Colleagues are the member(s) of any faction to which one belongs. Current faction(s): students and graduates of Brightsail Academy. Members of the former Kingdom of Magic.]

Most mages only ever learned or created a few Maximizers in their lifetimes. Now, Sen’s arsenal of them had grown to five. Maxim, Maxima, Fireking, Garden, and Alumnus. He could also use his title as a Maximizer, but the effect was largely the same as Maxim or Maxima, so he didn’t include that.

Jonathan nodded. “Alumnus. The most powerful Maximizer the book can bestow. This particular variant of the Academy Inheritance has only been granted a few times. Still, I’m surprised—”

The pages continued flipping, and a System notification popped up for Sen.

[Bonus Reward for reaching the Top Rank in the Isle of Magic: Studious Modifier]

[Allows a summoned unintelligent Spirit or Summon to gain knowledge from its experiences.]

Sen blinked. That was…really good. His thoughts were already turning to the flame summon he’d gotten as a prize from the Flamelord. If he summoned it with this Modifier, its potential would be even greater.

Jonathan stared at Sen. “Did you receive another prize just now? I’ve…I’ve never seen that before. What was it? I couldn’t see this time?” He turned as the book beside him flipped wildly; its pages moved so quickly they tore away from the binding. “What’s going on?” Jonathan reached out for the book.

So, whatever was happening, it wasn’t normal.

The book floating before Sen crumbled. Mana exploded from it as it turned to ash.

Sen’s brow furrowed. The dean’s jaw dropped.

Jonathan paused suddenly. His eyes lowered, and he scanned the air in front of his face. Sen recognized the distinct look of someone receiving a System notification. Based on the way the dean’s eyes scrolled over the same area over and over, it was clear he was re-reading something difficult to comprehend. His eyes only grew wider by the second until finally he looked up at Sen.

“Why did you seek the top spot, Sen?” He took a step towards Sen. “You were only a first-year student, but you fought so hard for it. Something…something drove you to reach the top rank, didn’t it?”

Sen hesitated. Is he talking about my quest?

Jonathan suddenly calmed down. Almost unnervingly fast. “Can you see it?” He squinted.

The question was vague. The first Dean of Brightsail Academy could be asking about the town outside the windows of this secret room. He could be talking about the ashes of the book scattered around the pedestal before him. It was possible he was talking about something completely unknown to Sen, that he could not, in fact, see. But the moment Jonathan asked, Sen knew exactly what he was talking about.

“The sun in the sky.”

A shocked expression slowly morphed into a smile on the dean’s face. “You’re rare. It’s there, for everyone, you know? It’s not some hidden thing. Some of us notice. Most of us don’t. There are magicians who have risen to the level of god that know nothing about it. For me, it was a blur that only became fully visible in my final moments. For some, it’s there from the start. What was it for you, I wonder?”

Sen closed his eyes and watched the spiderweb connecting all magic form in his mind. Threads that connected Fireball to Tri-Infernal Hellscape. The strings that connected Candle Lance to something that seemed totally unrelated, like Shatter Vine. There were connections that didn’t always make sense initially, but there was always some sort of logic to be found within. For Sen, that magical sun high above the spiderweb was a fact of life. He could sense it in his mind before he could cast magic. At night, he sometimes stretched a hand toward it in his dreams. When he played as a child and cast imaginary spells at imaginary beasts, he imagined his power coming from that sun.

When he learned his first spell, he closed his eyes and realized he could see a magical impression in his mind. That first spell was like a sphere with loose threads hanging all around it. A web he could connect if he just figured out the next steps of the puzzle. It became an obsession, and he filled that web until he’d reached the limits of his time. Never before had he met anyone who had seen it, though he’d asked. He’d asked plenty. Sen had spoken with master magicians and other god-class magicians in the final moments before he struck them down. He’d given up on finding someone else who knew about that mystery of magic.

Until now.

“It’s always been there. As real as the beat of my heart, or a gust on a windy day. I’ve seen it since I was a child.”

Jonathan nodded. “I’ve met evil men who could see it. I’ve met ignorant men who could see it. I don’t believe it’s a representation of character, or that it marks one as chosen. As you say, it’s there, it’s always been there, and those who choose to look for magic in a world already full of it, find that burning sphere. You looked deeper, Sen. I wonder what you’ll find at the end of this mystery.”

“What do you know about it?” Sen asked. He stepped forward, nearly knocking over the pedestal in his haste, and scattering ash.

Jonathan sighed. “Not much. But I have learned one thing in the time since my passing. My soul has lingered here, waiting to share the truth. Now I see, the book’s destruction proves it, that person was you. The threads? The sphere at the center of it all? They’re real Sen.”

Sen blinked. “Real?” He knew that already. The sun that floated above the interconnected threads of mana was just as real for Sen as any other thing. It had always been there. “What exactly are you trying to say?” he asked.

“The thing that you see when you attune your senses to the magic within, it isn’t just there. It’s here too. Somewhere in this world, it exists physically. I can tell you progressed further in your studies than I did in mine. My threads didn’t reach so high, but they reached far. That was when I noticed the pattern.”

“What pattern?” Sen demanded.

Jonathan smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m afraid I could never decipher it. But the hints of it are there. I thought I’d gone mad until I received the quest.” Jonathan paused as if contemplating what to say. “My father used his power for evil. I sought to rectify that, but it seems it’s time for both our stories to end now. Tell your professor that this will be the last year they can offer the Academy Inheritance to the top-ranked student. Whatever extra power you drew from the book spent the last of its mana. It’s finally over.”

Sen shook his head. “What are you—” He realized when he reached out to grab Jonathan’s soul. Whatever had kept the man here all these years, whatever had bound him to this place, was fading. He shook his head. There was more he needed to know. But no matter how he adjusted his grip, grains and droplets continued to escape him until there was barely anything to hold on to.

Jonathan turned to look out the window. “It all started with that quest. It popped up as soon as I noticed the pattern. I was on my deathbed. Can you imagine that? All those years ago, the System gave me a quest. A quest, it seems, was meant to find its way to you. It’s like it knew you were coming. How odd is that?” The man sighed. “I’ve spoken at length with two others about the pattern. They also sought to learn more about it and received a quest to do so. At least one of them is still alive, based on the memories I found from your fight with Dean Withershade. Nowadays he’s known as the Shield Lord. The other…well, you’re better off not pursuing him. Though I’m sure you’ll cross paths if he still lives.”

Jonathan turned and stared at Sen. “Find it, Sen. Fulfill the purpose of the System.” With that, the old man faded into nothing.

[Quest Prerequisite Complete: Talk to Jonathan Brightsail, the first Dean of Brightsail Academy.]

[New Quest: Locate the Core.]

And finally, the System forced through a reward notification.

[Quest Prerequisite Reward: You may upgrade one high-grade artifact.]

Sen had a thousand questions in his mind. Jonathan’s father had been Remias Brightsail himself. And Jonathan had somehow passed a quest to Sen. He’d never heard of a human quest giver. Then there was the quest itself. “Locate the core…”

He turned at the sound of banging on the door behind him. Sen reeled around. “What’s going on?”

[Can you hear me? Why were you just standing there] Tutor asked.

Sen shook his head. “What? You didn’t see any of that?”

[Any of what? You stood there for a long time, then that weird book turned to ash. Sikar’s been banging on the door for minutes!]

That…didn’t make any sense. Tutor hadn’t perceived the conversation with Jonathan at all? And Sikar was the one who let him into the room. How had he gotten locked out? Had Jonathan somehow kept Sikar from re-entering? Sen hurried and turned the doorknob. The professor almost fell through the door. He stepped past and scanned the room quickly. “What happened? Are you okay?” Sikar asked.

Sen nodded. “I’m fine—why do you seem so flustered?”

“There was…” Sikar grimaced. “A student came to get me. It’s Orttha, he’s not doing good. He asked to see you before he…well, you should hurry.”

A pit reared its head in his stomach. “Before he what, Sikar?” But he knew the answer to that question already.

Orttha was dying.