Not in a million years, seventeen million really, did John think he would be back in this situation.

In the few days after his breakthrough with Nifriden, the Elf had begun to teach him little things about magical theory. Things like mana pressure, mechanics of his own pool, and mana affinities.

Completely absent from his experiences thus far, the idea of mana having certain attunements was a curious concept.

The way that the Elf explained it was that efficiency would be increased in casting spells by using the highest matching affinity. Affinity itself was mana with a ‘flavor’. It was created in the mana pool of an individual. Certain people had predispositions to affinities that made this possible for them.

Nifriden’s example was of the combat spell, fireball. It could be cast with just normal run of the mill mana, but it required far more than if it was cast with fire affinity mana.

Casters weren’t locked into certain roles because of this though. Staffs, wands, and other magical casting aids could often be enchanted with a converter enchant. Like the name suggested, this enchantment would convert mana into the affinity the enchant dictated. It was widely used by those with little to no affinity as well as those who had so much affinity, they couldn’t create any spell apart from their ‘school’ with any efficiency.

That was another thing that the Elf had taught him about, schools. Magic was separated into schools that reflected the affinities one would make use of. The number of schools was huge, therefore, the same was true for affinities. They ranged from the more obvious ones like ‘neutral’, ‘fire’, ‘water’, and ‘light’ to the more esoteric ones that were called names like ‘psychic’ or ‘summoning’.

The concept of schools applied to the present in a different way from the affinity related stuff.

For the first time in millions of years, John found himself being instructed like a student in a classroom.

The first few days of Nifriden’s education was rather laid back with lectures so involved they could be called conversations. Now, Nifriden became a slave driver eerily similar to Ms. Michaels, his 9th grade English teacher. That woman still sent chills down his spine.

The alchemist had dusted off old books he had gotten in his ‘academy days’. They towered over John at his makeshift desk in the corner of the laboratory. His near-photographic recall was being strained by the sheer amount of information that was being stuffed into his mind. His memory quality was incredible, though the quantity was still in its infancy.

Every few hours the Elf would take a reprieve from his experiments to quiz him on material he had just read. He apparently taught in a similar way to his own teachers. No praise for correctness, only admonishment at failure.

These quizzes weren’t the standard of checking rote memorization, no, he would have been fine if that were the case. Nifriden wanted developed answers on concepts that were composite from many topics. The learning was so strenuous that on the third day of rigorous study, John received a system notification.

*Ding*

Wisdom has reached rank 2!

The rank up spoke to John’s diligent study. The news was much more shocking to his Elven instructor.

“You what! Already!”

“Is it really that strange?”

“For a human? Quite unexpected… But this is a unique situation…

“Elven education is not given to the shorter-lived races for a reason. Even those that possess an intelligence rank that can handle the rigorous material would balk at the challenge. The mental fatigue is immense. Elves inherently have some mental resistance outside of skills, so we can afford to offer it to our young as a standard.

“Since you did well with my first lessons, I decided to up the difficulty. You would easily be keeping pace with any Elf…”

Nifriden paused for a moment.

“There is a fairness to the system that you so conveniently disregarded.

“Elves develop their ranks much more slowly. That and my race’s birthrates are the price we pay for our long lives. To advance at a speed even a tenth of a human, we are forced to do these kinds of studies.”

“So, I’m cheating by being able to learn like an Elf while advancing at the rate of a human?”

“That seems to be the case…”

“That wouldn’t explain my other rank up though”

The Elf sputtered a little.

“O-other rank up! You have already had one? You’ve only been here less than a month!”

“Yeah, on the way to Lumis. I deescalated an argument with Vulgad and a blacksmith. It got me a charisma rank.”

“Hmm…? I’m not sure how that happened so fast! Maybe its just a talent thing.”

“Talent?”

Nifriden shrugged at the seated John.

“Just like it sounds. Some people have a high talent or aptitude, like affinities really.”

“Hmm, makes sense, I guess. I was thinking it may be related to before I came to Cuerus. My job would have required a lot of charisma if the system was involved.”

“That… is a possibility. You did say you were a conman, a professional liar of sorts. Might have been the system recognizing your rank?”

“I think that’s it. But we can’t be sure.”

“Indeed, we cannot.”

The two went into silence. Their topic naturally petered out in the way conversations often do.

John himself was none too eager to return to the books at the moment. He was happy to be making progress, but it was exhausting. Wanting an excuse to extend his break, he reignited their conversation.

“So… Are there any other ways to use my leaning ability to my advantage? This Elven education stuff is neat, so do you have anything besides magical theory? Cause, if I see the term ‘mana decompression equation’ one more time… I’m gonna flip.”

Eyeing him thoughtfully, the Elf smiled.

“I suppose I can show you another exercise that’s a bit more active than these books.

“Tell me John, do you like games?”

***

It wasn’t like any game he had played before, it was kind of like chess and tennis at the same time.

Nifriden had taken out a leather ball that was obviously enchanted. All the enchantment did was use mana to propel it in a certain direction. It was pretty straight forward.

The game, known as ‘Siege’, was a rather neat game where each player had a number of tiles they could arrange on the ground before every serve. The ball could only be moved with mana and had to land on a tile, or the ball must be served again. There was a strategy to arranging the tiles and skill was needed to control the direction of the ball. Once the ball bounced for the first time on the opponent’s side, then you could no longer control the ball and your opponent had to regain control and bounce it back. The first player to fail in keeping the ball inbounds or on a tile was the loser of the serve.

John failed miserably at first.

Nifriden was quick in his applications of mana and had a mind for strategy that was incredible.

They played until John’s mana pool started to get low, then waited until it refilled to begin again. In what was probably hundreds of serves, he never scored a point. Not all was hopeless though.

From when they had first begun playing, John was able to put up a much greater fight. The skill of the Elf was just far too much for even a moment of luck to overcome.

Nifriden had explained that this game was meant to improve the finer skills in applying mana at a rapid pace. Casters who were training for combat magic played this game with multiple balls to train their speed of casting. The greatest players could play with up to five balls. Being able to shift attention and focus quickly was necessary to become a great caster.

John learned from his experience so far that it could also be a game to improve mana conservation. Top notch positioning wasn’t all that difficult with extended mana use, but the trick to this game was quick bursts to endure longer.

According to Nifriden, Siege was a common pastime in Elven society. Where duels were often used in most of the world to solve disputes, a game of Siege was used to the same effect among Elves.

John found it curious that Nifriden mentioned facets of Elven society but never spoke of events at Altharic. He didn’t want to pry too much on the topic, but he wanted to learn more about the conquering legions from the north, and if they were a threat to Tyrshal.

It was days later that he found the moment to be conducive for such conversation.

The mix of lessons, reading, and quizzing made for a deathly bored John. When they once again played Siege, he waited until the Elf brought up Altharic in conversation.

“And that’s how I raised so high in my time serving Altharic’s army!”

“Ha-ha, fascinating…

“Nifriden I hate to be insensitive, but what do you know about the more recent events in the Altharic. I don’t want to bother you, but I’m concerned about the aims and capabilities of Gharabis.”

That question froze the Elf’s face. He scrunched his brow and looked to the floor.

“I can’t speak too much more than the average citizen of Tyrshal can. My family no longer resided in the country, and I haven’t been there in centuries.”

The alchemist looked older as he spoke. The words adding the weight of years gone by.

“From what I heard form survivors and refugees though. It was a slaughter. The armies of Gharabis are mighty, perhaps some of the mightiest. Their strength is of the brutal nature. They prize death in glorious battle above all else. Their whole culture worships the act of bloodshed.

That, coupled with their blatant hatred for other races, even other humans, makes them the worst of conquerors. They rape and slaughter to their heart’s content, and then systematically kill or maim what’s left…”

Nifriden swallowed loudly. His frown deepened. John wouldn’t dare say anything now and disturb the thoughts of the Elf.

‘Gharabis sounds a hell of a lot like some of the shit the Nazi’s did…’

“The only survivors are crippled slaves. All the Elves of Altharic are either enslaved, fled to lands far and wide, or in the dirt.”

Now the Elf looked up at John with a deathly serious edge to his gaze.

“Gharabis won’t stop until they are wiped from the land. Of that I am certain. They just haven’t kicked a big enough hornet’s nest. I eagerly await when they attack a foe too large, like Tyrshal. I can show them just what the fury of an alchemist looks like as they suffocate in the clouds of vengeance!”

John had never seen so much anger in the eyes of any person, in either of his lives. The Elf clearly held the atrocities in Altharic close to his heart. He also believed that they would attack Tyrshal.

‘I have a sinking feeling it’ll be more than a battle between nations. This is a battle of cultures. Hell, they even got gods on their sides…’

‘This is the stuff I need to prepare for. This is a dog eat dog world… Battles like those will decide the course of history. If I want to achieve my goals in the future… I’ll need to deal with Gharabis eventually. By that point I’ll need an army though.’

John had spent his idle moments considering what he wanted. He truly wanted the world for himself. He didn’t want to take the land itself as his own like what Vulgad described though, he wanted all of those powers to bow down before his own might. The conqueror inside of John didn’t see Gharabis as a threat to the peace of the world. He saw it as an obstacle in his way an opponent.

He honestly couldn’t shake his desire either. He had no reason to want to rule the world. He just felt that he should. There was a compulsion to it that was odd. Maybe the system had changed a vital portion of him. The very universe decided power by martial strength. Maybe when he joined with the system…

He shook his head.

‘Who knows. All I know is that this new body came with some spiritual balls of the most audacious kind.’

The Elf and Human sat in silence as they so often did, both considering bloodshed to come in the future. One looked forward to it with a vengeful glee and determination. The other, with a detached sense of hunger and greed.

***

Days passed.

For the first time in his new world, John had established a routine. Learn with Nifriden, practice his manipulation of mana and understanding of runes, and have casual conversations with Recia about various things in the world, they took up his time in a pleasant way.

Above all else, he sought to escape the feelings of eternal boredom he had previously suffered from.

The days that passed continued to do so.

He was doing spells and magical calculations to supplement his robust load of new knowledge. Nifriden had also begun to teach him about alchemy to some extent once his understanding of magical theory had progressed far enough.

***

Weeks had started passing. His daily activities were second nature by then.

The weekly visits to the market were a highlight in his schedule. The interesting objects of the curio pavilion occupied his free time as he unraveled the complex scripts of enchanted items he found. Recia had also brought him to the normal market too.

Just walking around the outdoor portions of Lumis with Recia had been fascinating. He met people of many races, and he at least saw far more. It seemed that the Kingdom of Tyrshal was welcoming of all races that showed peaceful intent. It rather reminded him of some of the more idealistic places on earth.

Discrimination still existed no matter the society. At least in Lumis, it was kept quiet and really only existed in the more fringe elements of any one race.

The race that had surprised him the most was the Goblins and the Gnolls.

In video games and pop culture, Goblins were usually seen as pests or monsters, but here it seemed that they were seen as a race like any other.

The Gnolls being tolerated was surprising based on historical context. The Gnollish nation of Kelaad was smaller and rather unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but its geographical positioning protected them from enemies. Since the Land Mother had divvied up the kingdoms so long ago, the Gnolls as a nation had declared war on Tryshal. The fact that the kingdom allowed them within its borders showed a more progressive view than he would have assumed from such a savage and brutal world.

He learned many more things in those first weeks. The complexities of society had begun to open to him.

***

In defiance of his hectic arrival in the Bet’ital Wood, the weeks became months.

To compare himself to the John who first walked through the city gates would be to compare a pickpocket on the streets to a conman as he had been in his previous life. Skill, intelligence, and experience made all the difference.

In fact, he had gained another rank in wisdom since the beginning of his training. Oddly, rank 4 intelligence still eluded him.

It was in his fourth month in Lumis that winter reared its head. The snow piled high on the roofs of the city. The streets were taken care of by city workers.

It was in that month that John’s life finally had a change from his new norm of learning and honing his magic.

But life changed, that was constant.

He smiled at the notifications that the system sent his way.

*Ding*

Intelligence has reached rank 4!

*Ding*

Level has reached 2!

*Ding*

[8] Points available for allocation!

‘Here we go! The world will never see me coming!’

Little did he know, surprises were a two-way street. Nothing good ever happens without some bad mixed in for good measure.