The Strongest Gun Magus: I Cast Bullet!-Chapter 8: Spellcasting Class

Reynard jolted, waking up from his daze.

"Ah? What—oh, I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t sleeping at all! I will show the Firebolt spell immediately!"

The teacher huffed.

"I should order a flogging for you for sleeping in my class. But if you can cast the spell, I will assume that you are advancing, at least."

Under the teacher’s glare, Reynard stood in front of a dummy.

The Firebolt spell was one of the most common among the magi. Even a poor school like Blue Bismuth School had its knolwedge, and every student was forced to learn it just so they understood how to use spells at all.

Reynard started to make magical passes with an ease of habit, summoning necessary mana from his aura—approximately a tenth of his total circulating mana. It began to transform with each spoken word of magic.

This was similar to the Operations of Refinement, but happened on a much smaller scale and much faster. Reynard’s mana boiled, cooled, boiled and...

Reynard suddenly realized that the spell wasn’t reacting the same way as it always did. It refused to ignite!

’Shit! My aura had changed from the Operations, and my mana changed, too! I have to adapt the spell again, or it will just won’t work!’

Thankfully, Reynard had plenty of experience with this one spell already.

He twitched his pinky finger, adding more of the Mars presence in the spell. To his relief, it worked, and the mana turned into pure fire.

The rest of the spell went smoothly. A bolt of fire flew from Reynard’s hand into the soaked dummy. It burned a fist-sized hole in the straw and created a cloud of steam.

The teacher’s glare weakened.

"A slow casting, but acceptable. As you have seen, Artemy had almost fumbled, but caught himself. Miscasting is a common problem for the Nigredo stages. Your aura is too unstable yet, and can change for any number of reasons, so you must be ready for failures. Now... As you can see, this is a power of the Firebolt spell cast by a First Cycle student. But if someone of a higher Cycle cast it, the result would be different."

The teacher repeated the spell with slightly different gestures. This time, the bolt that flew from his hand was the size of his elbow.

It struck the soaked dummy, incinerating half of it in an instant. The rest ignited in flames, instantly dried up by the heat.

"And this is the power of a Final Cycle Nigredo."

Now even the older kids were watching with wide eyes.

"But just so you remembered that there are always dragons flying higher, let me show you the power of an Albedo stage. At it, a Firebolt spell becomes obsolete entirely. Instead, much stabler and much deadlier constructions are possible."

The teacher outstretched his hands, making magic passes. From his palms gradually grew a short bow that seemed to be made from molten metal or liquid fire.

When the teacher held it in his hand, it behaved almost like real weapon, but Reynard could sense the powerful magic within.

The teacher raised the bow and drew its string, creating a true arrow of fire—not a vague image of one. Reynard could feel its heat from several steps away.

The arrow flew at a whole dummy and pierced it with ease, shattering at the reinforced fence.

The dummy burst in flames, half of it being turned to ash in seconds.

The kids gasped.

Reynard saw this more than once already, but he still watched with wide eyes.

A Nigredo-stage magus could have no hope of creating a stable magical construction like this bow...

"And this is the difference, students. Not only between Nigredo and Albedo, but also behind the classes of spells. Like there are four minor stages of refinement: Nigredo, Albedo, Citrinito, and Rubedo, there are four qualities of spells: black, white, yellow, and red. Firebolt is black, the lowest, but the Fire Bow was a white spell. The exact difference will be explained to you in the theory class..."

The bow disappeared from the teacher’s hands, and he waved his hand at the students.

"Now, spread over the training grounds and practice Firebolt spell until you can make it three times in a row. If your dummies break, try the metal targets instead."

The teacher gestured at several metal circles hanging on the fence, then stepped aside as the students practicted.

The kids began throwing spells at dummies, although most of them—especially toddlers—could only repeatedly fumble their spells. The teacher sometimes tried to give them instructions, but they clearly fell on deaf ears.

’How can toddlers do any spell with their chubby little fingers, anyway?’ Reynard thought, shaking his head. ’Whatever. As long as they are too busy to giggle at ME!’

But among the older kids, there were others who did much better. Their auras were past the First Cycle of Refinements, but didn’t reach the Final Cycle yet. By the commonplace standards, this placed them on the same stage as the First Cycle students, but in practice, they had slightly more mana and their spells were slightly stronger.

Realizing that he also needed to practice again, Reynard began refreshing his ability of Firebolt spell, and then, of other minor spells he knew. At least the teacher didn’t mind that.

’Or maybe he does?’ Reynard thought closer, when the teacher suddenly told him to stay behind after the end of the class.

Other kids have left already, eager to escape toward their free time.

"Did you need something, Teacher Serge?" Reynard asked, approaching cautiously.

"Yes..." Serge squinted at Reynard. "You have started Operations again, Artemy. You know, I can still remember you from your Evaluation Ceremony. You asked me whether the Pure Earth Affinity was bad..."

Reynard winced. He remembered well.

"Well, I’m glad to see you finally start advancing, Artemy. But it makes me wonder... That artifact with which you have secured your current wealth—let me look at it."

Reynard forced himself NOT to wince.

’Damn it! I knew that a gun would attract attention, but it was impossible to avoid. Which doesn’t make my current situation any more pleasant! Marien can’t really protect me from the teachers, can she?’

"Uhm, Teacher Serge, I didn’t bring it with me..."

The teacher’s face grew cold.

"I can sense it on your person. I think I can even see in your pocket."

’Shit! I should make a proper holster for it.’

Wincing, Reynard pulled the gun out and showed it to the teacher.

’I don’t know what I’m more afraid of: that he will steal it, or accidentally shoot himself with it!’