Páng kè chose the path of a mage.
On one hand, he genuinely liked magic; on the other, it was the only viable path available to him.
Fortunately, as a semi-prime elf, he was born with two mage class levels and two ranger class levels.
In other words, he was already a second-level mage apprentice and a second-level ranger apprentice at birth.
However, Páng kè had no hesitation—he would dedicate himself entirely to the path of a mage.
Though these two levels might seem insignificant, they were enough to help him overcome the greatest barrier to becoming an apprentice.
For many young men and women with dreams of becoming professionals, this initial threshold was an insurmountable obstacle.
Talent, comprehension, knowledge, and even luck—all were indispensable.
Among ordinary people, the probability of someone becoming a professional was said to be less than one in a hundred thousand.
The reason why the multiverse seemed filled with countless professionals was purely due to the sheer scale of the ordinary population.
Even in the Faerun Plane, where the number of professionals was considered "astonishing," the vast landmass and immeasurable population meant that in many places, the world still resembled the Middle Ages.
Professionals were regarded as nothing less than living legends.
Páng kè discovered that he had inherited a significant amount of knowledge—enough to carry him until he reached the official level.
Moreover, with the system's assistance, learning spells and training would yield twice the results with half the effort.
With this reassurance, he breathed a sigh of relief.
At the very least, he had the chance to learn a few spells for self-defense before hatching.
That way, he wouldn't have to worry about being devoured by some wild beast the moment he emerged from the shell.
And so, Páng kè focused his mind and began studying magic.
The Nature of Magic
In this world, magic was entirely dependent on the soul.
The soul released elements into reality, and by controlling these elements, magic was formed, producing various mystical effects.
Elements were the fundamental components of this world—note, elements, not atoms.
The laws of this world were different.
Matter was composed of pure energy elements, divided into ten types: water, fire, earth, wind, thunder, light, darkness, life, space, and ether.
The first nine elements followed a cycle of mutual reinforcement and restriction.
The ether element, however, was unique.
It could transform into any other element and be transformed by any element—including non-elemental energies.
Most crucially, only ether energy could be directly converted into other forms of non-elemental energy, such as magnetism, gravity, and kinetic force.
Any energy that wished to convert into these non-elemental types first had to be transformed into ether before being further refined.
This property cemented ether energy as the "primordial" element, granting it unparalleled flexibility and versatility.
However, ether energy was inherently gentle, meaning some energy was inevitably lost during conversion.
As a result, attacks powered by ether were generally less destructive than those fueled by pure elemental energy.
Because of this, the Shaping Energy School, which directly utilized elemental power, was widely recognized as the most destructive among magical disciplines.
The Eight Mage Schools
Speaking of which, the path of a mage was divided into eight major schools (note: these referred to cultivation paths rather than organizational institutions):
Shaping Energy – Directly generates elements from the soul.
Incantation – Creates ether with the soul and utilizes its raw energy.
Enchanting – Imbues objects with magical properties.
Alchemy – Fuses and separates substances.
Prophecy – Uses the soul's perception to acquire information.
Summoning – Creates creatures or objects within the soul and materializes them in reality.
Descent – Uses the "concepts" within the soul to erode reality.
Mind Arts – Manipulates reality through sheer willpower and spiritual force.
Each school had its own advantages and characteristics, but in the end, all paths led to the same ultimate goal—the road to divinity.
Once a being reached the Higher God Realm, they could directly control the higher-level forces of the laws themselves.
Below that, all spells—even legendary ones—were merely ingenious ways to interact with these laws.
At that level, factions and professions ceased to matter.
Of course, in the early stages, the differences between the schools and professions were still quite significant.
Most mages chose two major schools for specialization and two minor schools for support, ensuring a well-rounded set of abilities while minimizing weaknesses.
This didn't mean they ignored knowledge from other schools.
After all, all magic stemmed from the soul.
Even if a mage didn't practice a particular discipline, understanding it could provide valuable insights, increase adaptability, and prevent them from being caught off guard by enemies using unfamiliar techniques.
After careful consideration, Páng kè chose Summoning and Incantation as his major schools, prioritizing the "safe, long-range output" and "battlefield control" abilities of a mage.
For his minor schools, he selected Alchemy and Prophecy.
Alchemy would provide him with an early source of income.
As the God of Knowledge, Oghma, once said: "Knowledge is wealth."
Furthermore, intelligent beings always had a penchant for hoarding secrets.
In this world, spell techniques and super-magic skills were absurdly expensive, not to mention rare treasures and cultivation resources.
If he wanted them, he needed capital—at least in the early stages.
Prophecy, on the other hand, was self-explanatory.
The countless wars of his past life had proven time and again the crucial role of intelligence.
Spellcasting and Growth
The inheritance left by Páng kè's parents contained numerous apprentice-level spells but very few official-level ones.
Still, at least before reaching the official level, these spells were enough.
For someone with a system, learning apprentice-level spells was effortless.
In no time, Páng kè had grasped the theoretical foundations of several spells (though, still confined within his eggshell, he couldn't put them into practice just yet).
However, as his knowledge and power grew, the difficulty of learning and training would increase exponentially.
Based on his estimates, even with the system's help, once he reached the official level, his learning speed would only be three to four times that of an ordinary mage.
But even this advantage was enough to make countless others green with envy.
After more than a month of study, having learned several apprentice-level spells, sorted through his parents' inheritance, and established a solid foundation in magical theory—
the day of Páng kè's hatching had finally arrived.