Once you start learning some magic, you truly don’t expect your life to be riddled with the same stupid problems that affected you before. So, when I wake up with a terrible pain in my neck, I’m surprised.

Wouldn’t you think that once you start leveling up and doing that kind of stuff you wouldn’t get neck pain from sleeping on a bad pillow?

What now? Do I have to invent cervical pillows?

And how long did I sleep anyway? I look at the enchanted clock that Clodia gifted me, and I notice it’s 4 PM. I slept an hour and a half, or so.

I’m feeling better.

The whole fiasco with Lucinda really put a dent in my mood.

She’s beautiful and smart. Plus, the first time I looked at her, I immediately felt like she was the perfect candidate to be my future wife.

But what am I supposed to do? I can’t date or court someone who’s mean. I have enough issues in my life without adding a mean person to it, don’t I?

One of said issues is the book that currently rests on my nightstand. I wish it was some erotica, to be honest. It would have caused less problems so far.

Now, I must tell Lucinda I’m not going to teach her how to multi-cast because she was an ass. Oh, sure. Let’s go tell her that after we relentlessly flirted with her, hired her as a lawyer, and even told her we would probably teach her.

Let someone shoot me in the head right now, please. Put an end to my suffering.

I look at the window, since there was a whole world out there. It was messy, but magical. It was full of romance – maybe – but also a big pain in the ass.

That’s why I decide to look at the book.

I’m not in the mood to be told what to do, who I am and what my future should be. But I’m also not in the mood to stir up any trouble in the outside world.

“Wassup, book, how you doin’?”

The book flies in front of me and opens in the middle.

‘Description: simul-casting [Lights] is the most appropriate exercise based on your evaluation by the The Omnium Compendium! Your last attempt gave life to a superior [Light] spell. Now, you must take one of the great challenges in advance. Wasting your talent is a mortal sin. And with a mortal [Thunderbolt] you shall be rewarded if you slack off!’

‘Requirement: learn how to simul-cast at least three inferior [Light] spells in a month.’

The description of the previous assignment appears. Slightly below it, the book adds something new.

‘You completed the homework assigned to you well in advance. Magister Mulligan would be impressed by his disciple.’

‘You receive a prize for such a great deed!’

“Huh, a prize.”

I’m not that excited.

Not being zapped to death is already something.

But I wouldn’t mind something nice. I wonder if there is a chance that I’ll get a physical prize. Maybe it’s a magical wizard robe?

‘The prize is an even bigger assignment!’

Why do I even bother?

The pages flip and the book materializes new ink.

‘The road to mastery is hard! You will need to practice different matrixes, more and more complex. However, [Light] is the foundation for everything else.’

‘You will need to practice spinning, shape-changing, dynamic movements, coordination, and many other cantrips!’

‘Magister Mulligan prepared 529 cantrips to practice! And you qualify to practice them all!’

What?

WHAT?!

How many?!

‘Once you have practiced all the cantrips, you will finally have the necessary foundation to start practicing magic properly! And don’t go learning some inferior spells outside the Omnium Compendium if you don’t want to suffer at the hands of the [Thunderbolt Curse]!’

What’s this stupid nerfing?

So, let’s see if I got this right:

This is an extremely powerful self-teaching relic that should impart insane knowledge onto you. However, the same Relic gives you stupid tricks to strengthen your foundation. Now, what would happen if I were one of those wacko adventurers who needed to survive? Or what if I were simply thrown in a dangerous spot? Would I flicker some light at monsters, while they delightfully chewed on my bones?

And let me guess; there is a very strict deadline on this stupid homework assignment.

‘Be careful, new apprentice, there is a very strict deadline on the assignment.’

Well. It is what it is.

‘Only by pushing against the boundaries can a [Mage] truly shine!’

‘Description: you will have nine months to strengthen your foundation as a [Mage]. Magister Mulligan would be proud of such a hard-working disciple!’

Do they have normal months here?

Like, if there are nine days a week, are there still twelve months?

And why didn’t I ask before?

Well, assuming that a month still has around thirty days, it should be…

‘Requirement: learn how to perform all 529 cantrips in the next nine months. Ask the book to teach you the cantrips.’

‘Days remaining: 333’

So, wait. Isn’t that more than it should be?

I do some quick math in my head. I mean, the math is quick. I am slow.

“That’s like thirty-six something days per month? Thirty-seven? What the hell?”

It’s a pretty number, at least. 333, I mean.

Did I get all the cantrips because of my exploit? I should have waited maybe, simulate some mediocrity. Once again, working hard doesn’t pay off, does it?

“Book, show me cantrip number one.”

If I want to make it, I need to learn what, two cantrips a day? One and a half maybe?

‘The first exercise Magister Mulligan has put down is to make two [Light] circles one after another at the same speed for a full minute.’

How do they have the notion of a minute?

I turn toward the magical clock and, indeed, there is a hand meant for seconds.

“Well, how difficult can it be to—"

Oh, shut up, shut up. Shut the hell up, Joey.

Why, why.

Why would you say that?