That mistaken impression did not last long. Soon everyone knew that Adam's behavior that day had been nothing but a false front, and what gave it away was learning that Adam possessed an extraordinarily high talent. So plenty of them came to him with the problems they had run into while constructing their spiritual-power solidification runes, and every one of them was driven back by Adam's cold stare.
Adam was only interested in research; that did not mean he liked spending his time playing teacher and answering idiotic questions.
It wasn't that nobody was provoked into wanting to teach Adam a lesson, but... he had to admit that although the food aboard was plain, it carried a surprising amount of energy—he had actually broken through to Grand Knight level without even noticing. So Adam's popularity kept getting worse.
Two months of the voyage passed without incident. Over those two months the unchanging, monotonous scenery outside could no longer draw the apprentices' eyes, and the Mages, as if they had vanished, stopped paying them any mind—so the nobles went back to living like nobles: endless parties and banquets.
At first the proposal came from a scion of some Eastern noble house, and he had worried the sailors would not agree; but once he found that so long as he paid, the sailors would fulfill every request without cutting a single corner, the whole apprentice circle rotted through. Adam did not join in, and naturally no one invited him, but he noticed that the sailors looked at the apprentices strangely—with an odd, savoring sort of amusement.
For two months Adam had kept his multithreaded computation running, doing his utmost to optimize the rune structure. With that computing power behind him he had made good progress: he had already found a three-dimensional structure that could stably bear the output of his spiritual power. But a new problem had appeared. Contrary to what he had assumed—that once the rune structure became three-dimensional, spiritual power could be poured into it—it could not.
So then, what is that hollow interior supposed to hold?
Adam had a vague guess. Over these days he had found that once his spiritual power was dispersed, Type Two special energy was produced in large quantities. He had tried injecting Type Two special energy into the interior of the rune, but every attempt had ended with the rune shattering and his soul wracked with violent pain.
Again it came down to a lack of samples and sufficient data, and Adam could not reach a conclusion. He was in no hurry, though—these questions should not be anything profound, and once he reached the academy he would surely find the answers.
Not long after, one morning, the several Mage lords who had not shown themselves for over two months appeared all at once, gathered everyone on the deck, and brought a piece of news that left them dumbstruck and unable to believe it.
"We have now sailed into the inner sea of the Mage Continent. From this moment on, every second of forward progress means the concentration of ether you can directly sense grows higher and higher. This is what I meant by a high-magic environment."
"Ether comes from every corner of multidimensional spacetime. It cannot be seen or touched; only spiritual power can sense it and react with it. If knowledge is a Mage's source, then ether is the key that turns knowledge into power."
"The power produced when spiritual power comes into contact with ether is called mana. Only with mana can you cast spells."
Mage Blake stated this knowledge outright, and everyone listened in rapt intoxication.
"Perhaps some of you have already discovered the secret of the spiritual-power solidification rune. That's right—the ultimate purpose of tracing it is to store mana." Adam's eyes lit up.
"But don't celebrate too soon. At the initial apprentice stage, your fragile souls cannot bear a high-grade energy like mana." Here Mage Blake suddenly wore an eerie smile much like the sailors'.
"Still, that is already enough. If you are smart enough, you ought to survive."
Astonishment spread. Mage Blake had shifted so fast—one second he was teaching knowledge, the next he was talking about life and death—that the apprentices had not caught up.
Mage Blake waved his hand, tracing a rune array of three runes in the air, and said, "From now on, the defensive formation on the outer hull of the Mordo Academy will be withdrawn. Do you know what magical beasts are? There are countless magical beasts in these waters. For the time to come, you will face them head-on. Only those who reach the shore alive will be qualified to become true Mage apprentices."
The Mages turned and walked out. The apprentices were reeling from the news, dizzy and at a loss. At the doorway Mage Irene looked back and said to them, "Memorize this set of Fireball runes. Neither we nor the sailors will help you. Do you want to survive? Then work for it."
Only after the Mages and sailors had all left did the first voice rise among the apprentices: "How can they do this? Fighting magical beasts—we'll die! Not one of us will survive!"
The despairing voice set off a chain reaction. They went madly trying to leave the deck and get back inside the ship, only to find every entrance blocked by the Mages; they could batter themselves bloody and still not force their way in.
At a time like this, the ignorant get to be happy a little longer. Cristel, for instance, innocently asked Ophelia, whose face was grim, "What's a magical beast?"
Ophelia had never seen one either, but she knew the precious ointment she used in her training was boiled down from magical beast bodies, and she had heard that such creatures could tear even a Grand Knight apart with a casual swipe.
"We're in big trouble," Ophelia murmured, staring blankly at Cristel.
At that moment there were probably only two people on the deck not panicking. The first was Adam. He had expected that things would not be so simple. No tuition, no travel fee, no appraisal fee—just carrying them straight to the academy and teaching them to become superhuman? It seemed a little too good. So good that Adam had caught himself wondering if this was compulsory education.
The second was William Alfred. He had a father who had once been an apprentice, and that father had long since told him everything he would encounter along the way and had made ample preparations. William even regarded this whole affair as his chance to establish a position of leadership.
He thought so, and he acted accordingly. Clapping his hands, he said loudly, "Everyone calm down! Panic solves nothing. There are only two paths before us now: survive and become a Mage apprentice, or die at sea and feed the magical beasts. Quit? That's not an option."
When people are at a loss they instinctively look for a pillar to lean on; William played that role to perfection and successfully drew every eye on the deck.
William was pleased with this. His father had told him that the path of a Mage was never peaceful—battles broke out for all sorts of reasons beyond counting—and that in many cases one person's strength was a paltry thing, but an organization, and a place among those at the top, would without question do much to remedy that paltriness.
"We need to unite. Magical beasts are powerful, but they are not invincible. And the Mage lords would never put us in a situation where death is certain—they simply want to weed out the useless," William continued.
Weed out the useless—those words stabbed into the hearts of the nobles who had spent every day and night in song and revelry. If that label fit anyone, it fit them; even now some of them still could not competently handle the spiritual-power solidification rune.
"But don't worry. As long as we stand together, every one of us can survive," William declared loudly, full of confidence.
The Southern apprentices had always followed William's lead. Tom, his hair slick with pomade, piped up at just the right moment: "Mr. William, what should we do?"
William gave Tom a satisfied glance and said, "Some of you may still not know what a magical beast is. Let me tell you: they are not merely unusually strong wild animals. Magical beasts can use magic, just like Mages."
Those who knew what magical beasts were fixed their eyes on William, hoping for a solution; those who had not known, Cristel among them, went abruptly white as paper.
William went on: "We need an organization, someone to unify everyone's strength. Only then will we have any chance of defeating the magical beasts. Randy, Quentin, Ophelia—and Adam—what do you think?" Randy was the apprentice from the West with the curse talent; as for why William included Adam, it was because he had never forgotten his father's advice.
William had laid out his idea, and he was confident that in this situation no one would reject a proposal so plainly in everyone's interest.
Ophelia spoke first. "I agree—but how we unify needs proper discussion."
Randy and Quentin nodded as well, indicating that they had no objections.
William knew the matter was settled. As long as he displayed enough leadership within this alliance, he would win the support of this batch of apprentices, and in the unfamiliar environment of Mordo Academy he would have some measure of power.
That left only Adam, who still had given no sign of his opinion. He had not even turned his head; he was staring, unblinking, at the Fireball rune array floating in the sky.
William felt a little uneasy, and asked Adam in a gentle tone, "Adam, what do you think?"
Adam had in fact heard them. He always kept one thread open to receive outside information, but that thread automatically filtered out useless input. Clearly, to Adam, William and the others' words were garbage data.
"Adam?" Ophelia stepped up and patted his arm. Adam turned and looked at her without expression, his eyes unfocused, all of his computing power poured into the composition of the rune array.
In that instant Ophelia actually felt fear. She could not help recalling Count Johnson's words: He's not one of us, he has no feelings—could that really be true?
Ophelia suppressed the thought and briefly repeated what William had said to Adam. Even she did not think there was anything wrong with a decision like this needing Adam's agreement—but someone else saw it differently.
"A mere commoner—so what if he has some talent? Why should our alliance have to ask his opinion?"
At the same time, the logic thread in Adam's mind sent up a notice: rune array recorded, construction successful, zero-rank spell Fireball acquired.
Adam turned his eyes to the apprentice who had spoken, his face still blank. The apprentice could not help taking a step back, then forced himself to say, "What? Am I wrong?"