Reading. Always reading. That was Malcolm's life in the [Emperor]'s castle. Magic was a fascinating concept, even if he wasn't good at it. He had finally succeeded in learning the [Light] spell after days of intense studying and practice. The light could be adjusted to his liking, bright or dim. The night the spell finally clicked, he had been ecstatic. He was proud of achieving something, even if he had not been able to learn any of the next spells from his spellbook. The next one in it was a simple way to help you manifest fire in your hand. It was the first step towards learning [Fireball]. He was a [Warrior], but he felt like it wasn't for him. Every time he imagined himself fighting up close to a demon, he shuddered. He found it way too dangerous. But fighting from afar? Throwing spells? He would do it.

He had finally gained the [Mage] class when he went to sleep, and learned a second spell. It wasn't a useful one, like the [Fireballs] and [Lighting Bolts] his classmates were throwing around every day, but it was his. [Lesser Earth Manipulation]. That was his spell. When he had first gotten it, he thought he could use it to fight. Maybe take chunks of rock and dirt and throw it at the head of his enemies. He was wrong. While his comrades were practicing outside with their weapons or reading spellbooks, Malcolm was practicing with this new spell outside. He held out his hand and concentrated.

"[Lesser Earth Manipulation]."

The earth budged and shook slightly, and that was it. No fancy stone darts or anything. He sighed. It had clearly improved since he started using it a few days ago, but how long would it take for it to become useful? He sat down the grass, and sighed again. He was only a level 1 [Mage] and a level 4 [Warrior], the lowest in his class. Almost all of them had broken level 10 already on both their classes, which apparently a spectacular pace, according to most trainers and even the Grand [Mage].

Thinking of the Grand [Mage], he spoke to himself.

"Maybe I should ask him for advice. But he hates me."

Indeed, he hated Malcolm. In the weeks he had been there, once the Grand [Mage] saw Malcolm's leveling speed, he started to despise him. Yes. Despise. He looked at him like he was a bug.

"Albert, then."

He rose. If someone would help him, it was surely going to be their history teacher. He was the closest thing Malcolm had to a friend here. He walked at a fast pace towards his quarters. The magical feeling of living in a castle had faded, and he no longer took his time to look at the details in the walls or in the paintings. After around ten minutes of walking, he made it to Albert's room. He considered going in, but stopped when he was about to knock. How would he start the conversation? Should he be direct? Should he ask him how his day has been? No... surely that would be too awkward.

Social anxiety was the bane of his existence. He always planned his conversations ahead of time, otherwise, after the usual 'hello' and 'how are you', he was stumped. He hated being this way. When he was a kid he was a chatterbox and had many friends, but after becoming a teenager, he became more and more introverted until... He simply forgot how to have a proper conversation, especially with newer people. He cursed internally. What to say? But he didn't have time to think as the door was opened by the man he came to see himself.

"Malcolm? I'm sorry I didn't see you. Did you wish to talk?"

"Um. Yes. Uh, I'd like to ask you a question, actually. Regarding magic."

"Well, ask away. Come in."

"No, it's fine I don't want to annoy you. You must be busy."

"No, not at all! Come in, please, I'll help you out."

Malcolm nodded and walked into Albert's room. Well, it was more like a study, with books and parchment everywhere. Albert gestured at his chair and Malcolm sat.

"So. What's on your mind?"

"Well... I finally gained the [Mage] class the other day and I got a spell. [Lesser Earth Manipulation]. But It's ridiculously useless and I fear I won't level up in the class anytime soon. And I'm also still stuck on the second spell of my Spellbook."

"Hm. Well, first, let me congratulate you on your new class. Gaining one is always good."

"Thank you. But-"

"Secondly, you are right. [Lesser Earth Manipulation] is a weak spell that takes many hours of practice to grow into the second stage, [Earth Manipulation]. Usually, you can get it quite fast but for someone with a low mana capacity... well... I'm sure I will figure something out. Don't worry."

Malcolm's eyes met the ground. Again. Again he was pitied. He hated it. He wished he was strong. He wished he was like everybody else. He wished he could help the world get rid of these Demons. They committed so many atrocities. But at this rate... he would be useless once they actually went to Kistror.

Albert was browsing his numerous books on magic. Malcolm wasn't too hopeful. He had already been recommended to stop learning magic and commit to his [Warrior] Class. At least his warrior skills were useful. He had [Lesser Sword Proficiency] and [Arc Strike]. But being a [Warrior] didn't call to him as magic did. And it was dangerous.

"Ah! Found it!"

He dusted the old book. It looked old, worn, and it had a boring brown leather cover, but Malcolm was still interested.

"It's an old spellbook on Golemancy. Not too strong of a domain, but most of the mana doesn't come from you. It's drawn from the environment, so even people with a small mana pool can do it."

Golemancy. Making golems and making them fight? That sounded... interesting."

"You say it's weak. Why?"

"Well truly, making golems that are worth anything take weeks, sometimes months. Weeks of preparation so it can be as good as a fresh level 1 or 2 [Soldier] or [Warrior]. And they can't even use skills. All of that so they can be destroyed likely in one battle. Is it worth it? Most people don't think so. They don't see much use outside of Sahir, and most of that use isn't oriented towards combat."

Malcolm couldn't believe what he was listening to. Weeks? Shouldn't it be instant, like in games? What was the point of doing it then?

"But, I believe you can make it work. I've seen how you study. It's probably more than every other [Hero] combined. If you had their talent you'd be the highest leveled by far."

That stung Malcolm a bit. Albert was effectively saying he had no talent. But he knew he also meant it as a compliment. He smiled and took the old book.

"Thank you, Albert. Truly."

"Well, it was nothing. Anything to help you get better at killing the Demons."

Both of their faces grew dark. Demons. The bane of all the races. Kidnappers. Genociders. Treating other races like animals. They had to die.

-----------------------------------

Claus was outside, training with his friends. Friends from another world. He raised his wooden sword to intercept a strike coming from Steven, and pushed back. Steven's sword flew off and Claus struck him on the side. Steven grunted in pain and raised one hand.

"I surrender! God damn it, Claus, you don't have to hit me so hard! It's practice, not real fighting!"

He was clutching his side with his other hand. His friends laughed.

"Shut up, you wuss. If you can't take a strike like that the Demons are gonna crush you in one blow!"

That was Blake. Arrogant. Loud. Obnoxious. That was what Claus thought of him, but he kept up the facade. He acted like he liked Blake. He didn't want to be kicked out of the group just because of him. He enjoyed the other's company, but only one person really mattered to him.

"Don't be so insensitive, Blake. Claus is good. I bet he's level 20! He's holding back on us."

That was Sarah. She was beautiful. Her hazel eyes shone in the sun with confidence. He loved her. But he couldn't tell her. Not yet. Blake smiled and put his arm around her back. He talked sarcastically.

"C'mon Sarah. You know I'd totally beat him with my hands tied. I'm the one who's holding back!"

Sarah giggled and then smiled at him. They kissed. They had started dating recently. Claus was hurting, deep inside, but he didn't let it get to him.

I have to win her over. That's what he thought. How? Well, he wasn't sure. It had been a month since they arrived. Blake was the highest level. He was a level 13 [Warrior] and a level 11 [Mage]. His growth was far faster than Claus'.

"So. About your world. Tell me about planes again."

They all looked at him tiredly. Skye answered him.

"Again? Come on Claus. We've told you this like three times already."

"I know, but it's just so... fascinating.

She begrudgingly nodded with a sigh and answered his question.

"Planes are... hunks of aluminum in the shape of a bird. And they're like, 50 meters long. So you go inside and you could fly anywhere in the world in a few hours."

"Wow. Every time I hear that I can't believe it. Though you didn't mention this aluminum before. What is that?"

"It's a type of metal. The lightest one."

"How can something made of metal fly? I don't get it."

"Well, I read it only once, something about wind draft..."

Claus eyes widened, as Skye was explaining how planes flew to him. The rest of the group returned to training. How could humans in her world do such a thing? Without magic? Impossible... but it was. He had seen what they called 'phones'. The Grand [Mage] had tried to analyze them for reproduction, but it was too complicated. Too... advanced. And there wasn't any magic in it.

Time passed and their training was over. Now the [Heroes] were free to do whatever they wanted, as long as they stayed in the castle. They couldn't go outside. Not yet. His father had explained it to him. He had said that [Heroes] are meant to inspire hope, and pride in humanity. Right now, they are simply too weak. Sarah was right, he was holding back on the [Heroes]. He would crush them if he went all out, even if they were progressing extremely fast. The Demons could send [Assassins], or even get help from humans. As despicable as it was, they had insiders in the empire. Humans giving out information to the Demons for money or artifacts. They were routinely found every few months across Draele. As soon as they were caught, they were paraded and stoned by a crowd, and then executed. Claus would never forgive them. How could they help scum like the Demons?

Sarah went back to her room, closely followed by Blake. The rest went to see the rest of the class. Claus was sad now. He wished he grew as fast as the [Heroes]. He wished he was a [Hero]. They were all so fast... well, not all of them. Malcolm flashed across his mind. He was slow. Well, slow compared to a [Hero]. At this rate, he'd never be ready. Where even was he?

Claus asked around and no one had seen him the entire day. Strange. Claus thought he had simply given up then. Despicable. Was he just doing nothing all day long? Claus stormed to his room. When he made it, he knocked. A tired voice answered him

"Who's there?"

"Claus. I was wondering how you were doing."

"Claus? Who's... oh okay, come in."

Normally, addressing royalty this way wasn't appropriate. You were supposed to open the door for him. But Claus didn't mind. He had given up being a [Prince] a long time ago. He went inside the room.

The floor was covered in dirt. There was an even larger lump of dirt next to his desk. It didn't look like anything. What was he doing?

"It smells horrid in here. What in Esmund's name are you doing!"

"Ah, um. S-sorry about the mess. I was trying to make a golem"

"A golem? Why would you- just do it outside, not here!"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"I just can't. Sorry. I'll clean up after I'm done."

"You better. The [Maids] aren't [Slaves] you know."

"Right."

They stood there awkwardly in silence for a few seconds until Claus broke the silence.

"Well, I'm busy so-"

"Right. Right. I understand. I'm busy too. Right."

"So... goodbye. Good luck on your... creation."

"Thank you."

Claus left in a hurry and wondered why in the world would anyone try to make a golem, especially one made of dirt. It would be useless.

-----------------------------------

Malcolm was mad. Mad at himself. How could he be so bad at making a conversation happen? But he was also mad about how hard it was to make a Golem. He actually had to shape it. And he had to learn how to draw magic from the environment to his golem. The book said to first, create your golem in any shape that would allow it to move. That was easier said than done. Dirt wasn't malleable. He had to find something to make it stick, and that was where his magic came in. He had to figure out where to concentrate his magic and create anchor points for the golem, and a center of gravity and those changed every time you shaped the golem. That basically meant you had to shape it little by little, changing your input of magic each time you added to it. So many variables. Too many. All of that for a dirt golem that wouldn't do anything?

He felt his mana 'slip' out of his hand. His dirt lump exploded. Too much mana. He cursed to himself.

"Damn it! I fucking hate this!"

He kicked what remained of his dirt shape on the ground. Hours of work amounting to nothing. He was used to it, but this prospect of creating golems had given him hope. Hope that he would be useful. His mana control simply wasn't good enough to progress. He was about to call it a day when he remembered he had just promised to clean his mess.

He had nothing to clean here, so he opened his door and peeked at the sides of his room. No one was here. Good. He didn't want Sarah to see him covered in dirt. Or anyone, for that matter. He made his way to where the [Maids] resided, which was ironic because it looked as luxurious as their rooms. He didn't mind though. A few [Maids] managed to catch him, and he lied and said he had fallen during training. He grabbed a mop and jogged back to his room.

He made it back. None of his classmates had seen him. He breathed a sigh of relief, and started mopping the floor. He joked to himself.

"I better not get the [Cleaner] class from this."

He chuckled at his own joke. It still intrigued him though. No one seemed to ask how the system worked. What was the requirement to gain a class? Some people knew a few spells but they weren't a [Mage]. Was it because they didn't want to be one? But Malcolm didn't want to be a [Warrior] either and he had gotten the class. It didn't make much sense to him.

Twenty minutes passed in a flash, and Malcolm was done. He didn't want to take the mop back anytime soon. He felt like he would need it. He was physically and mentally exhausted. He collapsed on his bed.

[Mage: Level 4]

[Skill: Greater Mana Manipulation Obtained]

[Skill: Lesser Earth Manipulation ––> Earth Manipulation]

Maybe this wasn't such a bad day after all.