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The Wretch

  "A spell model is the heart of every incantation." This was the golden rule taught by professors during the very first lecture on Arcane Fundamentals.

  To cast a spell, one had to weave a precise structure within their mind using pure spiritual energy. If a spell was the software, the model was the Arcane Processor. Even a basic Rank 0 spell possessed circuitry so intricate it could make a scholar’s head spin.

  For instance, "Mage Hand" required a deep mastery of both Arcane Thermodynamics and Force-Field Conversion. For a typical Initiate, mastering such a spell took months of grueling study.

  But Pierce was a "bug" in the system.

  Ten minutes later, inside the colossal Apprentice Library—a sanctuary five times larger than the one for commoners—Pierce sat in a secluded corner. He flipped through the manual for Mage Hand at a blinding speed. It wasn't reading; it was scanning. The frantic shuffling of pages drew annoyed glares from nearby students. What a poser, they thought, rolling their eyes at the youth who seemed to be browsing a grimoire like a cheap tabloid.

  "A shame I'm not a full Arcanist yet," Pierce mused. "With external spiritual projection, I could ingest this entire library in an hour."

  Focusing his mind, he whispered: "Omniscience, begin analysis of the Mage Hand model." [Task Created. Analysis in progress. Estimated time: 10 days.]

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  Next, he scanned the manual for Daze. [Task 3: Analyzing Daze model. Estimated time: 10 days.]

  "All three slots filled," Pierce noted with satisfaction. The "Eye" could handle three simultaneous tasks without sacrificing speed. He imagined a future where he could process dozens of spells at once—the thought was intoxicating.

  As he stood to leave, two young men watched him from the second-floor balcony.

  "Cedric, isn't that Pierce from your class?" Victor asked with interest. "I heard he’s a theoretical genius. Perfect scores on every test. If he’s finally advanced, he’s going to be a rising star. Introduce us?"

  Cedric didn't even look up from his scroll. "I wouldn't if I were you. He’s a 'Pei'—from the Inner City branch."

  "The Great House of Pei?" Victor gasped. "Then why did he only just become an Initiate? Those high-born kids usually skip the struggle by consuming Awakening Seeds. The Rank 1 bottleneck shouldn't even exist for them."

  Cedric shrugged and recounted the grim story: the "accident" that killed Pierce’s parents, the predatory relatives, and his unceremonious exile to the slums.

  Victor’s admiration curdled into pity. "So he's just a pathetic wretch discarded by his clan. Wait... what’s his connection to Silas?"

  "Resources consumed to advance to a second-class wizard apprentice.?" Cedric’s voice dropped an octave. "Most of them came from the inheritance of Pierce’s parents."

  Victor sucked in a sharp breath. The urge to befriend Pierce vanished instantly. Silas wasn't just a top-three prodigy; he was a member of The Shadow Serpent Syndicate, an elite fraternity of high-born mages.

  "Damn. Thanks for the heads-up. I almost stepped into a hornets' nest," Victor said, heart still racing. "Someone like Silas won't even look at a bug like Pierce, but if I’m seen with him... I'm dead meat."

  Cedric nodded. To them, Pierce was a ghost—a remnant of a fallen branch. As long as he kept his head down, he might survive. But in the world of the Spire, being a "genius of theory" meant nothing if you didn't have the power to protect your seat at the table.

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