Several days after reaching Mist rank, I left the oasis, heading straight southward towards the border. I still felt the increase in strength was worth the delay, but waiting much longer would be too much of a risk.

As I rode, I considered something that had been in the back of my mind since my last fight. So far, my physical abilities and skills with my weapon had kept me alive, but only barely. If things had gone just a little different with that abomination, I would have been left a corpse on the forest floor or a monster too twisted to keep its intelligence.

My style of combat was too limited, and I needed to round out some of my weaknesses. In particular, I needed ranged options for when close quarters was not an option or were too much of a risk. But what should I use?

The first thought that came to mind was copying Leon's bow. It worked great and could cripple or kill with a single shot. With my more significant mana reserves, I could fire projectiles several times as powerful. But his weapon was custom-made and cost a small fortune, something I could not match. And besides that, I had only practiced archery a handful of times. Becoming his match could take months, maybe years, even with my improved physical abilities.

A crossbow was much easier to use than a longbow but would still be far too expensive, not to mention limited. Firing a single shot at once made it useless against groups and impractical for most purposes. Altogether, it was no better of an option.

Throwing knives? No, those might be cheaper but required as much, if not more skill than a bow to use. I could use telekinesis to guide and strengthen my throws, but I might be better off just using magic by that point.

And then I paused before letting out a snort. Why was I bothering to consider weapons when magic was an option? My reserves were not unlimited, but now that I was at Mist, it was far more viable than before.

Reaching over, I flipped open one bag, pulling out the book on beginner spells that Master Julian gave me at the start of my first semester. Maybe there was something in its pages that I could use to develop new spells.

Something I became aware of months ago, and which had remained true even now, was that few spells existed built around Aether. The few who were not scholars died too young to develop any impressive magic. In all likelihood, I would need to create or modify some preexisting to suit my needs. The question was, what should I do?

A wall spell of some kind would work well, and I knew there were wind magic principles that might be transferrable. Rapidly rotating mana was dangerous regardless of the element, after all. But I lacked the reserves to maintain a spell like that, at least for the foreseeable future.

What about an explosive spell? Fireballs were always useful, and I knew from my experiments with mana crystals that Aether produced a significant amount of force. But that was the instant release of a high amount of pressure, thanks to the crystalline container. Would I be able to replicate the same effect with my magic?

"Fortuna. What spells did Cortos use in battle?" I asked, turning to the feline. Maybe hearing about my predecessor's preferences would give me inspiration.

His eye popped open, and he yawned, blinking several times before turning to me.

It depended on the situation, but he tended to fall back on the use of overwhelming force. Blasts of mana launched from a dozen locations at once, spheres designed to crush foes, and massive surges as large as a grown man were his preferred attacks. If ever forced on the defensive, he used shields several inches thick durable enough to hold up a small castle. He was many things, but subtle was never one of them.

That made sense, considering everything I knew about him. If the stories were true, he had the raw power and reserves to overwhelm almost anyone. Still, the lack of efficiency and skill were pitfalls I had to avoid, for my own sanity, if nothing else. Wasting energy and effort might be exhilarating for a moment, but it was a great way to end up dead. There was always someone or something more powerful, and forgetting that was a fatal mistake.

Digging through my bags again, I retrieved the brilliant white and gold tome I found in Flynn's room. The beginner spellbook had been mostly useless, but this one contained the secrets of one of the most powerful noble families in Ferris.

Unfortunately for me, most of what I found was useless at first glance. All of the spells, methods, and techniques were built around light mana, which presented problems applying them to my style. Still, what was far more critical to me was not the skills but the principles behind them. If I could understand those, I could apply them to my own magic.

Something that stuck out to me was that the Sion family prized offensive might even more than I had realized. There were no less than eight variants of the Light Blades spell that Flynn preferred, all designed for different purposes. In my opinion, a bit excessive, but if my future self was any indication, plenty effective even with Aether.

But was that the best option? Modifying my Arcane Beam into a blade might increase its offensive power, but it would also increase the mana cost. My reserves were growing, but could I risk running out of mana halfway through a fight? Conjuring a dozen blades and discarding them just as quickly would burn through my energy in minutes. If the Sion family had this issue, nothing in their notes indicated as much.

As I pondered this problem, something occurred to me, and I retrieved my personal notebook, flipping back to pages from months prior. Light magic might not have the secrets, but they were just a single aspect. Why borrow from only one element when there were so many to pick from?

The Sion book had techniques for shaping and creating multiple blades at once. With the addition of telekinetic exercises, I could maintain control over them, turning my projectiles into guided weapons. That solved the accuracy problem, at least, but not the stamina issue.

However, I recalled the skills Simon developed for that exact issue. In his case, persistent constructs saved energy in the long run. If I bound the created weapons to my core, I could reduce the overall drain and reuse the blades. There were even a few water element exercises to compress and strengthen constructs that I could look into in my spare time.

Homing mana blades that could shred anything within a few dozen feet solved my problem of mid-range. I could still buy a crossbow of some kind, just in case, but I doubted I would ever be much of a long-range fighter. With my skills and physical abilities, my place would be short to mid-range in most situations.

With my plan set, all that was left was to practice, practice, and practice more. Weeks passed in a blur, and soon enough, my training yielded results. Shaping my mana into a shape similar to a shortsword was easy enough and only took a few hours to get down. Attaching the spell to my core was a bit more challenging and took a few days, but in the end, I got it down.

By far, the most challenging prospect was creating and guiding multiple blades at once. My body refining and cultivation had improved my mind in various ways, and I grew more accustomed to balancing so many skills at once. However, it still left me with a headache controlling any more than three blades at once.

Still, as I stood in a small forest clearing, staring at the deep gouges in a tree a dozen feet away, I felt a sense of accomplishment. If I fought that monster as I was now, I might be able to kill it without taking any serious injuries.

With my reserves, I could maintain my Arcane Blades for around five minutes without any other spell. If I added in Mana Shell, it went down to about three minutes, leaving me just enough mana for a handful of Flicker Steps if absolutely needed. Still too short for my tastes, but far more effective than several weeks earlier.

Of course, the Sion tome gave me some ideas to modify and alter my other spells, which should help improve them. But Arcane Blades took up most of my effort, and I knew improving my offense took priority, at least for now. The sooner whatever was trying to kill me was dead, the less chance it had to rip me apart after all.

It all came down to my personal philosophy of magic. While most decided to learn dozens or even hundreds of spells and practice them to mediocre results, I knew the better option would be to focus. Why learn so many forms of magic you will never use when you could instead take a handful and improve them to untold heights?

Knowing that I had used up what little grace period I might have, I rode fast, only stopping in settlements for a night at most to rest and resupply as needed. My body might be able to handle the stress I was putting it under, but my mount far less so. If I had the choice, I would have abandoned it and moved on foot, but forests had given way to open fields and farmlands. A man running as quick as a horse would stand out far too much for my tastes.

After a month on the road, I reached Aranth, the southernmost city in Ferris. Half-built on the water, the city was famous throughout the kingdom for its incredible cuisine, a side-effect of constant access to the ocean. It was said that every royal feast in Volaris was catered by someone trained in Aranth.

Even though I was not fond of seafood and had come to enjoy the simple, efficient beads that I used to replace meals, I found myself eager to try the legendary foods of Aranth. It was likely the last time I could enjoy a meal from my home for the next few yearss.

Finding one of the Wandering Cities would be a challenge in and of itself. Locating Cortos' sanctum in their territory, and surviving the trek, could take months, possibly even years to accomplish. And that was without considering all the possible ways things could go wrong with my journey.

Putting aside those worries, I approached the main gates of Aranth, jumping down from my mount and leading it with one hand. Guards covered the main entrance, and high stone walls protected the outskirts of the city. Hundreds of traders came and went, caravans packed full of supplies headed from the settlement and further north.

Although it was best known for its cuisine, Aranth also served as a significant link in the Ferren trade routes. As the largest settlement this far south, nearly every profitable item within several hundred miles came through the city. Magic was a relative rarity within its walls, and Girem once told me that "the strongest thing in Aranth is not spellcraft, but gold."

I disagreed, but I could see the point he was trying to make at the time. After stopping by a mid-sized inn near the front gate and checking in my horse with their stable, I dropped off my bags and decided to visit the market. I wanted to grab some final supplies and see if I could learn anything from the locals about the Wandering Cities.

As I walked through the streets, I spotted stalls dedicated to exotic spices, meats, and fish. Brightly colored dyes, crafted from marine animals' shells, were prevalent in the finer shops I passed, and I tried not to gawk at the prices listed. Prices were shouted out and haggled over, and I was knocked around by the milling crowd more times than I could count.

I was so enthralled by the smells and sights that I almost missed the probe, brushing against my core.

Freezing for just a moment, I forced myself to continue walking, double-checking the shroud around my mana that I always kept up. If I appeared startled, it would only draw attention to me. Better to appear as if I had not noticed and continue to act normal.

Stopping by one stall, I asked the man running it for a sample of whatever fried meat he was cooking. As he got my order together, I cast out my senses, scanning the crowd within a few hundred feet.

Although they were powerful, at least Fogs and maybe even Clouds, their concealments were pitiful. Energy bled off them in waves, and I spotted at least three in the market with me. Still, if it came down to a conflict, I was hopelessly outmatched, even with my new and improved spell.

Walking further down the streets from the market, I weaved through the crowd, flipping my hood up as I moved. It took me less than a half-hour to spot another mage, this one at least a Drop and far more skilled at keeping his magic hidden. I almost missed him, only noticing after I caught a blonde man scanning the crowd with sharp eyes, positioned at a major intersection in the road.

Turning down another street, I ducked into a side-alley, leaning against the wall and cursing in my head. The optimistic side of me said that maybe it was a coincidence, and I was overly cautious, but my gut said otherwise.

It seems that my luck had finally run out. They knew I was alive, and it appeared that the King was not willing to let me go without a hunt. The only question was, what do I do now?