I’m laying down on a weird mattress. It’s quite hard and probably stuffed with God-knows-what.

At this moment, it finally gets to me. ‘It’ being the reality of having travelled to another world without any chance to go back; any chance in plain sight, at least. I’m not even sure that looking for a way back is the smartest choice.

There’s this magical phenomenon when, one second, it’s all good for us humans: everything looks pretty and doable. Then, the next second, one thing goes out of place, and we start spiralling out of control. Looking for a solution that doesn’t exist would quite ruin my life, wouldn’t it?

I can feel the anxiety in my neck, chest and arms. My stomach too, I think. It’s like getting a twenty-year-old fine for some unpaid taxes that has got in the range of millions. You can’t pay it. You will never be able to. There’s no way out and, suddenly, you have lost everything, and no matter whom you talk to, you are done.

Being in another world and panicking, just the teensiest bit, is in my rights. But I know myself and I know that if I start panicking, I’ll probably fall in that sorry state for a month or something.

Well, better distract myself before I start puking my breakfast. I had a nice sandwich with Flaminia during our break. I could have done with a croissant, but that’s another thing they don’t seem to know.

I get up and finally decide to do what anyone else in my situation would have done in the first minutes since arriving in this world.

“Ok, book, show me what’ve you got,” I say while moving my hand toward the cover to open the tome. I’m really curious about this ‘Magical Theory – The Omnium Compendium’.

Next, the book shoots up in the air, one foot from my face, and it turns to a blank page.

Black ink slowly materializes on it.

‘Place your hand on the page for the proficiency assessment.’

Where other people would have doubted or brought this thing to get evaluated before messing with it, I smile and place my hand there.

The black ink fades and a new sentence appears.

‘Proficiency: ...none’

“That sound about right,” I answer.

Another sentence appears below the second.

‘Dear disciple, I hope you’ve got my wondrous gift and that you will one day share it with the most talented [Mage] you know. This Relic is my life’s achievement. It will teach you all that I could not. We will revolutionize the field of magic teaching thanks to this Relic! If you ever meet the Meteor Archmage after becoming an [Archmage] yourself, please, do blast him into nothingness on my behalf. I’m still sick thinking about the disgusting dinner he treated me to at the last Magical University.’

There were a few more personal notes that made me laugh but carried no meaning to me.

Suddenly, the ink faded again, and the book materialized another sentence.

‘Lay your hands on both pages for the talent assessment.’

I was going to suck, wasn’t I?

I have a self-teaching thingy that should teach me magic. If it’s anything like the Indian YouTubers who taught me math in high school, this is going to be a blast. But even with the ungodly talent of those Indian dudes, I could barely cram the necessary notions to pass Calculus. By my standards, at least.

I lay my hands on the page, waiting for the disheartening judgement.

‘Talent level: 23!’

I remove my hands to see if there’s anything more written there. But nope, nothing.

Well, that’s... I don’t know. What the hell does ‘23’ mean? ‘23’ compared to what?

My swearing is interrupted by a new paragraph appearing.

‘An appropriate route to learn magic will be formulated shortly. Magister Mulligan enabled the homework function by default for his dear disciple. He also enabled the efficient homework punishing system: [Thunderbolt Curse] applied to the student.

For an instant, I feel an electric sensation through my veins. However, it goes away the next second, leaving me wondering if it even happened.

If homework is not completed, the student will suffer an electric shock as strong as the number of the remaining exercises. Beware! Have a healing potion on hand in case you’ve decided to slack off.’

Reading the warning at the end of the paragraph, I do feel like cursing. This book seems like the kind of thing that some adventurer nut would want to use.

“Book, I want to be a baker, can’t you take off this curse?”

The book doesn’t react to me complaining.

Or so I thought.

A jolt of electricity courses through my entire body, making me spasm. I can’t even shout because my muscles are seizing up on the spot.

It lasts something like two seconds, but to me, it was like two hours.

‘There is no complaining on the path to become an [Archmage].’

That’s the book’s response to my complaint.

The jolt didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would, but it’s still like being spanked hard all over your body. And not the kind of spanking that I wouldn’t mind.

‘Lesson 1: Use your natural Mana to create a [Light] spell.’

A veritable wall of text appears with finely distilled knowledge about what I need to do.

My eyes jump to the second page – yes, the instructions are two pages. Two big pages with small and wriggly instructions. At the end, there is something that stands out.

‘Description: even the most stupid [Mage] can cast [Light]. Even children learn how to do that. [Sailors], [Shopkeepers] and even [Politicians]. Your journey to greatness must start somewhere, before you go slay terrible monsters and live the mightiest adventures!’

‘Requirement: learn how to produce an inferior [Light] in two days.’

“Two days?” I scratch the back of my head. “I don’t even know what mana is and you want me to—”

An electric shock seizes my body again, but this time it stings.

I fall face first on the bed.

It seems like this book is set on making me an [Archmage] or whatever. Well, I guess I’ll be able to bake more with the help of magic.

Becoming an overpowered [Archmage] to live great— whatever,

I’m not interested.

I’m going to bake cakes and have a comfortable life.

The most effort I’ll make will be chasing girls!

Huh, maybe magic will help me with that too.

“Book, do you have magic that lets women fall in love with you or that helps you get some—”

Another shock snatches up my flesh, this time even stronger than before.

While I fall and get a huge bruise on my forehead, new words appear on the page.

‘Mind Magic is strictly forbidden and pursuing romantic relationships shouldn’t be on the mind of a future [Archmage], disciple. Focus on your magic! Good luck!’