Frank was overthinking it. In Adam's mind there was no such setting as feeling bad about killing, so Adam merely waved a hand and turned down Frank's offer.
The blood pool was actually called a decomposer. It was serving as an incubator now, but in the future it would also be his tool for disposing of experimental waste. Adam entered the room that housed it, used psychokinesis to dump the remaining slaves in all at once, and the decomposer went to work on its own, grinding every slave to pieces. Then Adam placed the egg inside. The egg floated of its own accord amid the flesh and blood, its shell writhing, absorbing it bit by bit.
The sight was utterly evil. In any other setting it would have made him the target of the whole world's righteous wrath — but on the Mage Plane, this was simply normal.
Over the seven months that followed, life at the academy settled into a steady rhythm for Adam: every day he inscribed the master-servant contract on the eggshell, went to the library to record low-level magic, adjusted the meditation method according to the progress and problems of James and the other two, and purchased a new batch of slaves every five days.
That calm did not really satisfy Adam. No matter how much low-level magic he recorded, he was only using tools someone else had made; as for his own path, he still did not have the faintest clue.
Psychokinesis had shown uncommon utility, but Adam was growing more and more certain that even if it were truly possible to advance using psychokinesis as his foundation, he would not do it. Because psychokinesis was, in the end, the power of an individual — against the endless ether, the endless planes and the endless knowledge, an individual was truly insignificant. Only by mastering knowledge could one possibly pry at the world.
During this time Adam tested his talent many times; it was no different from the situation back on the deserted island. He had once guessed that he had lightning-element affinity and had gone out of his way to record several lightning-attribute spells, yet in use they were no different from any other magic — as though he had affinity for every element. Which was obviously impossible.
"I think you're thinking about this way too early." Elliot said this to Adam in casual conversation one day, while quietly pouring a drink he had mixed himself into the cup in front of Adam.
Adam was deep in his own thoughts and didn't notice; he picked the cup up and took a sip. The complicated flavors his sense of taste reported made him frown. "What is this?"
"The latest product from Elliot's Potion Laboratory — Blood Potion Beverage. The raw materials are drawn from the blood at the core of exotic creatures from multiple planes, plus a special potion from the extreme cold plane. Well? Tastes pretty good, doesn't it?" Elliot introduced it proudly.
"Heh." Adam laughed without a shred of feeling, then took a bottle of clear water out of his personal storage space and drank that instead.
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean? My Blood Potion Beverage is very precious — a single bottle is worth a full forty units of energy stones, and you don't even like it?" Elliot said, thoroughly displeased.
Adam didn't want to get into it with him; he cared more about what Elliot had just said. "Too early. What do you mean by that?"
Elliot poured the rest of the drink for himself, rolled his eyes, and said, "Too early means too early. You've been an apprentice less than a year. Look at what the apprentices of your intake are doing — they spend months building one single rune group. And you? You've already mastered every magic in the library that's open to you. Why the rush? A path is a thing you'll find in time."
Adam's frown deepened. What kind of reason is that? Because I learn fast enough that there's nothing left to learn, I should stop and wait for knowledge to come find me? Where's the logic in that? Adam had never believed anything could be obtained naturally. When the mountain won't come to him, he goes to the mountain — that was his creed.
Elliot took a sip of the drink, smacked his lips in bliss, and said to Adam, "You're only ten. Far too young, my little friend. Do you really want to break the record for the fastest advance from apprentice to full-fledged Mage? It means nothing. James and Frank in your laboratory are over seventy — they're the ones who should be anxious."
As he said it, Elliot felt a twinge of sourness. He was much younger than James and far more promising, but at over forty he was still far older than Adam; he had studied at the academy for nearly thirty years, and now he was no longer Adam's match.
"But what's the point of wasting time like this? A full-fledged Mage, knowledge — what are they, really?" Adam murmured. As his fingers flicked, miniature elemental spells leaped at his fingertips one after another, then annihilated into nothing.
Elliot watched this unbelievable scene with a twitching mouth. In all his years on the Mage Continent, he had truly never seen an apprentice master the low-level magic of every element. It wasn't absolutely impossible — but it cost far too much time. It was meaningless.
He had wanted to say that this process was not only about apprentices accumulating mana and learning knowledge, but also about their way of thinking gradually transforming from that of an ordinary human into that of a Mage — yet neither point held for Adam. However unwilling he was to admit it, Elliot knew Adam was the only person he had ever met who was born to be a Mage.
"Anyway, don't think about it so much for now. The trial in two months is what you actually have to face," Elliot said, out of arguments.
Adam rose from his seat, glanced at the top three floors of the library he could not enter, shook his head, and walked off toward his own laboratory.
On the way down he saw many apprentices of his own intake. In half a year they had changed a great deal: lashed on by the pressure of the trial, their restlessness had been scraped away layer by layer, and those who could not bear the pressure had already eliminated themselves from the running.
On the second floor Adam saw William. In half a year the duke's son had been transformed; his command of psychokinesis and magic had given him confidence — not the false confidence he had once drawn from external things, but a superior confidence born of a clear understanding of himself.
When William saw Adam, he fell in step with him, and outside the library he said, "I've taken on a combat mission, so I'd like to request leave — to get used to fighting between apprentices ahead of time and prepare for the trial."
"Granted." Adam agreed at once.
William wasn't surprised either. After more than half a year of contact he had found that Adam was actually easy to talk to, as long as you didn't provoke him. With permission granted, William turned and headed the other way — but then Adam asked, "What kind of combat mission is it?"
William blinked, not having expected Adam to be interested. He answered, "Outside a small town thirty-three thousand kilometers from Mordo Elemental Tower, the wind wolves have multiplied explosively. The town has commissioned the academy to exterminate them."
"You mind taking me along?"
"Of course... huh? What?"
Early the next morning at the exit of Mordo Academy, several small teams of apprentices had already gathered — rookies who wanted to use the last stretch of time to get used to apprentice combat. William and his two companions were among them.
"Since everyone's here, let's set off." The speaker was a girl with long pink hair, holding a staff half her height, the water-blue energy stone at its tip glimmering with a faint light.
"I'm good. William, you?" This was a youth in a dark green robe, green vines coiled around both hands, standing close to the girl.
William gave an apologetic smile and said, "Sorry, Riley, Terry — I didn't get a chance to tell you. A... friend of mine wants to join this mission at the last minute."
The pink-haired girl, Riley, said with displeasure, "William, that's against the rules, isn't it? You know we've already signed a contract — the reward is split evenly. Adding someone at the last minute like this, how do we split it?"
The youth, Terry, added, "That's right. Even setting the pay aside, we invited you because we trust your strength. What if your friend turns out to be dead weight and drags us down? A combat mission isn't a game."
"My friend doesn't need any reward," William said, a strange look coming over his face. "As for his strength... he absolutely won't be dead weight."
William couldn't help thinking back to the conversation he'd had with Adam the day before. When he heard that Adam wanted to join the mission as well, he had been stunned. A mission of that level was decent enough for him, but to Adam it was plainly beneath notice. He couldn't imagine why Adam would want in.
"I just want to get out for a walk." That had been Adam's answer. Even now, thinking about it, William found it strange. Are all geniuses' thoughts just different?
The contract was already in place, so there was clearly no backing out now. Hearing that Adam wouldn't take a share of the reward, the two of them also didn't want to leave a grudge festering between them over it. Riley muttered, "It'd better be that way, because we're not going to split our attention to accommodate him."
Their irritation ran deep enough that they didn't even bother to ask Adam's name. They knew William was now working in Adam's laboratory, but they would never have guessed that Adam — the legend among apprentices — would be the one coming.
William laughed despite himself. Accommodate him? What a joke. Just don't get yourselves killed for pissing him off.
Time ticked by, the agreed hour drawing nearer and nearer. The two of them forced down their irritation and made up their minds to put William's friend in his place.
Close to seven, there was a stir at the academy gate. Everyone saw Adam flying in from the sky — Riley and Terry no exception. Riley said enviously, "That's Adam, isn't it? What's he doing here? Is he going out on a mission too? If only we could be his companions."
At that, William stepped forward a few paces, raised a hand and shouted, "Adam! Over here!"
Terry's grip clenched on the vines in shock. His mouth fell open and he muttered, "My god. William's friend is Adam?"