After that, Isel asked Unwan a few more questions. They were simple and not particularly important. In the end, she didn't really examine him again. Naturally, the whole thing turned out to be nothing more than a formality. Information written down purely for paperwork.
A short while later, Unwan was back at his previous spot, quietly drinking his soup. It had cooled a little, but it was still warm enough to drink. As he sat there in peace, someone placed a hand on his shoulder.
'Ah… what do you want from me now?'
Unwan was tired of being disturbed again and again, but he hid it well. With an expressionless face, he turned around.
Standing there was Genius Nort.
— "So, how did it go?" he asked.
Unwan slowly cooled the irritation inside him and replied,
— It was fine. Just a formality, apparently.
— What else did you expect? After all, it was me who recommended you to the academy director.
Unwan tried to end the conversation quickly. He didn't want his food to get cold again, despite there being plenty left in the pot.
— That's it?
— Not quite.
Nort reached into his pocket and pulled something out, showing it to Unwan. It was a key.
Nort continued.
— This is your room key. It's ten doors down from mine. And don't tell me you were planning to keep sleeping in my bed.
Unwan's lips twitched slightly. He forced a faint smile and answered.
— Exactly.
— Never. One day, you'll fall into eternal sleep.
Unwan laughed, took the key from Nort, thanked him, and turned away. Nort, too, went on his way.
***
It was around half past eight. Night had already fallen as Unwan walked through the basement corridor, repeating the number engraved on his key.
'Room 817.'
Near the end of the hallway, he found the door with that exact number. He turned the key and stepped inside.
'Huh. So this is my room from now on.'
The student room was decent. At least not thrown together carelessly. On the right side was a bed with a small shelf beside it. The left side was empty, except for a small rug spread across the floor. Near the entrance, there was another door.
'Bathroom and shower, I guess.'
Under the bed were a desk and a chair. The room wasn't as large or as well-decorated as Nort's, but compared to many others, it could be considered spacious.
Unwan looked at the rug and understood immediately. It was placed there for meditation. Moreover, the empty space around it was large enough for physical training.
He sat down at the desk. On it lay ten sheets of paper and a single pen. Why they were there was unclear. Owners mainly trained their spirit and physical body, using such tools was rare.
'Well, extra things don't hurt.'
'But extra food? That's another story.'
'Do you really need to mention that I couldn't even eat properly in peace?'
'Maybe yeah.'
Unwan ignored the thought. He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and opened it. It contained information about his grimoire. After all, it wasn't something he could simply throw away.
He read through the contents one by one, slowly trying to imprint them into his mind. He paid particular attention to his spells. He only had two, but they were precious to him. As he read their descriptions, he tried to understand them better, carefully studying the translation, estimating how much magic he could potentially use.
'Why does it say thirty units of spiritual energy, but not how long it lasts or how strong it is?'
'Because no one expected someone as smart as you to ask that question.'
'I'm being serious. It could last twenty seconds, or a minute. Or maybe it increases power tenfold.'
'And what if it doesn't?'
'Then we test it.'
Unwan stood up. He looked around for an object to experiment with. There were plenty in sight, but none were suitable. He couldn't use the pen, the chair, or the shelf. There was a risk they might break, and those were the only things he had. But if the object wasn't fragile, the problem would be solved.
He moved to the rug, stopping about a meter away just in case. He extended his hand toward it. As he focused on lifting the object in his mind, his grimoire opened, stopping on the second page, where the spell's description was written.
Unwan slowly raised his hand upward. Nothing happened. Or so it seemed.
He tried lifting the rug manually. He didn't know its original weight, but it felt as light as a feather, like it would fly away with a single breath. He returned to his position and continued the spell. Lowering his hand, then raising it again.
This time, it worked. A small smile appeared on Unwan's face as his idea proved correct. The rug slowly rose into the air, as if it were flying. He stared at it silently.
But soon, a confused expression formed on his face. The rug wasn't hovering. It was steadily moving upward, as though the ground and the sky had switched places.
He stared at it for a moment, then covered his face with his hand.
'What did I expect? Of course it's going up. I never defined or neutralized the force.
'If you were smart enough to realize that, why didn't you do it earlier?'
Knowing something and applying it were two very different things. Calculating how much force corresponded to each centimeter of hand movement, the rug's exact weight, the amount of power exerted by the spell, and finally positioning the hand with perfect precision. It was far beyond his current control.
But that didn't make it impossible.
In the end, Unwan raised his hand toward the rug once more and lifted it upward. With a sharp whoosh, the rug shot toward the ceiling, then landed with a dull thud.
'Great. Now the world really has turned upside down.'
He stared at it for a while, several thoughts passing through his mind. Finally, he canceled the spell. The rug fell back to its original place.
Unwan then checked his grimoire for changes. The state of his spiritual energy reserve and how much remained was the key point. He had memorized the numbers in language of runes specifically for this purpose.
'So…'
[73 / 1000]
A feeling of satisfaction spread through Unwan.