Sunlight streamed in through the window, filling the room with a peaceful, quiet warmth.
Gauss opened his eyes.
It felt like he’d just woken up from the longest dream.
He raised a hand to block the light. Maybe it was because he had just woken up, but the sunlight felt unusually bright.
He sat up slowly, dazed, until his memories caught up with him.
I was in the Mutual Aid Association’s private chamber—locked in for class advancement.
First came the insane binge-eating, then the overwhelming sleepiness.
So… does that mean I did it?
The realization hit him, and he looked down at himself with a rush of excitement.
As his brain fully woke up, he noticed the difference immediately.
It was hard to describe in words. If every past stat upgrade had felt like a fresh coat of paint, this felt like he had been completely rebuilt from the inside out.
Every cell in his body sang with renewed life, like they were telling him, “You’ve stepped into a whole new tier.”
Sunlight poured into the room, highlighting every detail—rough red brick walls, a cold metallic sheen on the stone table, and crumbs left from his last meal. Every texture, every color was vivid.
He could even see the dust motes in the air—floating, dancing like tiny sprites.
That was the only way to describe how the world now felt to him.
And the magic in his body… there was a lot of it.
When he focused, he realized it wasn’t just quantity—his mana now felt thicker, richer. Before, it had been like water. Now it felt like molten honey. The density, the texture—it was on another level entirely.
There was just so much happening at once.
After soaking it all in for a few minutes, Gauss opened his Adventurer’s Handbook.
The system had been holding back a lot of updates. Now they all came pouring in:
[Class Advancement Complete!]
[Current Class: Arcane Adept]
[New Trait Gained: Spell Proficiency]
[Spell Proficiency – Enhances control over the essence of magic, improves learning speed for spells, optimizes mana usage, and boosts spell effectiveness.]
[Arcane Adept: Master of magical application, born to cast.]
That was the first thing he saw: his new class info.
It sounded similar to “Mage,” but clearly it wasn’t the same.
He had expected this. Andeni had hinted before that his mana was unusual—combined with his diverse talents and peculiar affinities, it made sense that he wouldn’t just become a standard Mage.
And with this kind of power swelling inside him? No complaints at all.
The trait Spell Proficiency alone was a win.
Multiple effects from a single trait—better control, faster learning, reduced mana drain, and stronger spell output. Compared to most Mages, who might get something like Precision for improved accuracy, or Penetration, Vigilance, or Silent Casting, this was far superior.
He tested his mana flow, and the improvement was instantly clear—mana responded to him like an extension of his will. It was smooth, intelligent, responsive.
Then he noticed something else.
His core spell, Mage Armor, had also changed.
It no longer needed intense focus or effort—just the intention was enough.
The moment the thought crossed his mind—
A thick shield of energy exploded around him.
Compared to before, this Mage Armor was different.
Heavier—not in a way that slowed him down, but in protective strength. It felt dense. Durable.
Looking down, he saw the air around him shimmer, distorted slightly. The armor didn’t just block—it separated him from the world outside.
And the casting? Practically instant.
This had to be the result of his class advancement. Core skills often evolved when you transitioned into a full class, but this level of improvement? He wasn’t sure if that was normal.
Either way—he loved it.
He opened his stats panel:
Mage Armor Lv4 (23/100) (Now exceeds base version. Eligible for renaming.)
Light Lv2 (7 → 19/20)
Mage Hand Lv3 (27 → 35/50)
Magic Missile Lv3 (17 → 26/50)
Basic Swordsmanship Lv2 (12/20)
Enhanced Leap Lv1 (1/10)
Traits: Quick Digestion, Magic Resistance, Spell Proficiency
All his stats—except Strength—had gone up by 1. A total of 5 attribute points gained.
But the real jump? Intelligence. Going from 7 to 8 was a massive leap. It didn’t just feel like “one more point”—the difference was tangible.
Even if the system only showed whole numbers, Gauss suspected there was a big gap between, say, 8.1 and 8.9. Still, on the panel, they both just showed as “8.”
Skill-wise, nearly all of his spell proficiencies had improved during the breakthrough—some by quite a lot.
That was a total of 52 points gained across four spells.
Then a prompt appeared:
[Would you like to rename the skill 'Mage Armor'?]
Gauss hesitated. Then nodded.
This spell had grown beyond its base version.
[Skill renamed: Omni-Armor.]
A fitting name—not because it was already perfect, but because it was destined to grow with him. A wish for what it would one day become.
He closed the manual and returned his attention to himself.
Then—he noticed something else.
Deep inside, at the heart of his mana, was… something new.
A faint mirage-like shape. He focused—
It was a small, constantly flowing goblet of pure magic.
Gauss instinctively understood what it was:
It wasn’t a physical object. It was a conceptual one—a symbol of his class foundation.
But it wasn’t some vague abstract idea either. It was real—anchored inside his body as the heart of his magical identity.
With it, his previously uncoordinated mana now had structure, purpose, and strength.
Even non-core spells like Magic Missile felt far more powerful than they had just days ago. The difference between apprentice and professional wasn’t just numbers—it was evolution.