Kenneth was a fast worker and had my order delivered within the hour, all the better for my plans. I needed to return to full strength as soon as possible and get back into training. My latest purchases had drained most of my funds, and I would need to go hunting again.

After a few minutes, I had everything arranged on my table, neatly separated into rows. On the left were the potions, stored inside labeled glass vials. On the right, three leather pouches held my herbal treatments, copied from "A Study on Aether." Finally, a box small enough to fit in one pocket, carrying the nourishment and hydration pills.

My plan was simple enough. I lacked time to train in everything, and therefore I would use alchemy to buy more of it. Sleep restored the mind and body, which should be easy enough to replace. Stamina potions refreshed my energy, mental enhancement potions kept my mind sharp, and the rejuvenations should bolster my natural healing. I hoped that the last one might help me push my training even further than before, though that remained a side benefit.

The nourishment and hydration pills could replace food and water if taken three times a day. All I needed to do was place one of each under my tongue and let them dissolve. Exactly how they did that was unclear to me, though I lacked the motivation to dig deeper. I had too many other concerns, and alchemy had fallen to the wayside.

If all went well, all of those supplies should free up around nine hours a day, totaling four and a half months a year of additional time. I suspected I still needed some sleep, but even still, it was a staggering increase. But was it enough to make the difference?

I had to assume other apprentices would push themselves just as hard and had thought of every single trick that came to mind. The only solution that lay before me was to combine every little resource and leverage every advantage possible, and that was where my research had proven its worth.

Elliot Yardley was an Aether mage of little renown born around four hundred years earlier. Like most of us, his mana was unusually powerful, but he dismissed the risks as trivial, more concerned with other matters. I had no idea what these matters were, but his journals noted that this was his gravest mistake. By the time he came to this realization, it was already too late, and he found himself with a permanently damaged body.

Yardley spent the rest of his short life researching to try and repair his devastated body. He was apparently from wealthy stock, and that, coupled with sheer desperation, yielded results. Of course, they came too late to save him, but he was kind enough to document all of his findings, leaving invaluable wisdom for future generations. Wisdom I planned to exploit to the fullest extent.

Unfortunately, most of his findings reflected his wealthy upbringing and required gold or alchemic expertise I lacked, but I had found three feasible options among his journals. They were relatively cheap, readily available, and most importantly, left unpleasant but not debilitating or damaging side effects.

Ash weed was a dark green leafy herb that, when crushed and made into a tea, seeped into a mage's mana vessels, encouraging strengthening and growth. Star mint, a strong-smelling plant with bright white flowers, had to be mixed into bathwater but would repair minor imperfections in these organs. Finally, fire bloom, a fruit that looked similar to a shriveled apple, released small traces of Aether which, when ingested, cycled through the body, clearing away impurities and weakening potentially debilitating blockages.

None of these resources were incredibly effective, but over time, their effects would add up. I tried not to dwell too much on the nobles and the resources they might gobble up with each meal. Envy was pointless, after all, and would do nothing for my growth.

At least I had a source of motivation few other apprentices could hope to match. As Elliott Yardley might have said, there was little that drove you farther than desperation.

My ribs twinged as I adjusted in my seat, and I swore. Sig had not warned me just how annoying an injury like this could be, and I grabbed one of the rejuvenation potions, turning it over in my hand. The nagging injury nearly drove me to drink it right away, but I knew that I needed to be ready first.

I was not an alchemist but had read introductory books on the subject over the past weeks, mainly preparing for my classes. Most potions worked by introducing mana into the body, usually taken from plants or animal remains. Somehow, this energy caused different effects, almost like a spell, which tended to reflect traits from their source.

For example, my rejuvenation potion might contain blood from a beast with regenerative abilities or a plant capable of surviving extensive damage. The why of this was not listed, though I could not tell if this was because they did not know or if they wanted to avoid confusion. I suspected a bit of both.

What mattered for my current needs was how these effects spread. The mana entered my body through my stomach before moving to my channels. Just like a spell, it used these pathways to spread rapidly, bypassing the comparatively slower bloodstream. Consequently, these toxins moved with the mana, carried along like water following a river's current.

My working theory was that I could 'catch' these toxins in my channels before they infested my flesh and push them out through my lungs. It was a risk, but I hoped to adapt my purification techniques and mana control into a working method. If it failed, all that would result was a moderate stomach ache and a somewhat embarrassing trip back to the alchemists.

Before I could second-guess myself, I tilted the vial and drank it, noting was similar to watered-down juice. After finishing it, I moved my mind inward, briefly noting how smooth the process had become thanks to hours of dedicated daily practice.

I kept my focus on my stomach, hovering in the smaller secondary channels clustered around the organ, waiting for something to change.

After a few minutes, I spotted a swirl of mana leaking out, a mixture of greens, yellows, reds, and blues that danced in a chaotic mess of color and movement. It was strangely beautiful, and I nearly let myself lose focus, mentally shaking my head and remaining on task.

I had expected these toxins to look like impurities, an oil-like black sludge that clogged my body, but the reality was different. They appeared almost like the surrounding foreign mana but somehow wrong. The colors were off, appearing sickly, and I could sense a feeling of wrongness that worsened by the second.

My will stretched out for the nearest cluster, a cloud of brown-red the same shade as dried blood, only for my mental 'hand' to pass right through.

"Right, not Aether," I muttered, kicking myself for the amateurish mistake. Aether mages could not control any other element, even inside my body. I should have considered that before now, but it had slipped my mind.

Focus. I could kick myself later, but for now, I needed to solve this issue and fast. If I could not move the toxins directly, maybe I could do it indirectly. A wave of Aether mana surged, carried by my will, and I wrapped it around the sickly cloud. With another mental flex, I pulled it tight as a net, checking for any leaks.

Time remained a factor, and I moved fast, pulling my makeshift tool through my torso and out my lungs, exhaling it with a cough. Not only did it look like dried blood, it tasted like it too, but I did not have time to dwell on that. Returning to my stomach, I repeated the process several more times, finding it growing smoother with each repetition. Despite that, I did not feel any sense of satisfaction or accomplishment.

My technique was slow and incredibly inefficient. I had at best removed maybe a tenth of the toxins, the metaphorical equivalent of using a single bucket to douse a bonfire. I needed to move at least five times as fast for it to work, and there was no way of doing that. Not with my current level of skill and knowledge, at least.

Simply put, once the toxins spread and exited my channels into my organs, it was too late. Healers know how to move mana in the flesh, but that required near-perfect control and a firm understanding of anatomy. I was on my way to gaining the first, but the second required years of study that I lacked.

I sighed, returning my mind to the outside world, and rose, grabbing my purse and hearing the pitiful jingle of my remaining gold. Failure stung, but I would have to get used to it, and if nothing else, it taught me a few things. I was not ready to admit complete defeat, but I would come armed with more preparation next time.

At least I could feel the healing effects starting to work, multiplying my natural recovery rate three times over. The high-grade counterparts would seal sword wounds in minutes or fix a broken bone in several hours. Mine, while less potent, would still turn two weeks of rest into a few days.

Kenneth seemed amused at my reappearance, though he did not say too much about it. Kind though he might be, the man was not an idiot and knew better than to second-guess a customer buying more products in his shop. I thanked him and made my way back to the Academy, diverting my path to a training room.

I was close to breaking through the block in my right arm and wanted to improve my Mana Bolt before going on another hunt. If I could control two attacks at once, next time, I might avoid injury entirely. And at least this was something I had success with, keeping my mind off falling short on my experiments.

It was not until I returned to my room, several hours later, that it occurred to me. I would not be sleeping tonight. I let out a mixture of a groan and laugh, glancing at the window and noting the setting sun, casting an orange glare over the room.

"Well, might as well get back to it," I said, grabbing a book on physical enhancement spells and settling in for a long night of reading. If I were going to make a habit of fighting with a weapon, it seemed only logical to find magical ways to gain an edge.

And it seemed an excellent way to deter superhuman invaders from driving their swords through my chest. Sleep or not, that remained a waking nightmare that never entirely left my thoughts. As I began reading, I tried not to wonder if it ever would.