Arthur wanted to plant his palm firmly on his face. He had come up with that excuse on the spot, so it wasn't surprising that Jeren asked about it. He didn't intend to keep using it as an excuse and planned on adding obfuscation to the mana soul spell the moment he returned to camp.

However, for now, Arthur had to follow through with what he claimed lest he be called a liar.

"It isn't as simple as I let on. If someone saw the spell while it was being cast, my spirit would be consumed along with theirs. That's why I put such emphasis on telling everyone to look away. If it simply consumed other's spirits, I would be invincible as long as I kept casting the spell.

The truth is that the spell's negative effect is due to an error in the spellwork that I've all but ironed out. So by the time we reach Bern, it should be fixed, and I won't have to worry about it anymore."

Jeren showed a touch of awe in his expression for the first time. "You learned Aetherin, lord? Is that spell one you made on your own?"

"Yes, I've been learning Aetherin for years, but the spell came from a vision I saw that takes place far into my future. Unfortunately, I couldn't see all the spellwork as there was some paperwork on my desk that obscured my vision of it. So in a sense, I did create it. However, it was a future version of myself that did most of the work."

Arthur didn't want to claim total credit for the mana soul spell as he felt that being able to complete a partial spell was outrageous enough for a thirteen-year-old. So his fake visions offered a definitive explanation that allowed him to claim the credit without seeming too unbelievably skilled.

He wasn't worried about Foster, but now that Jeren had witnessed so much, Arthur needed to inspire his confidence and loyalty while spinning a web of lies that, should Jeren's loyalty waver, wouldn't hurt Arthur in the long run.

As such, he wasn't worried about his abilities leaking, fake or otherwise. It wasn't so much that he trusted Jeren. It was just too ridiculous a story, even in a fantasy world like Nithe.

If Jeren told anyone that Arthur was a thirteen-year-old spell-crafting psychic that could raise the dead thanks to a partial spell he gleaned from the far future, they'd say he needed to stop drinking. But, even beyond that, Jeren needed to have already decided that telling someone outweighed the risks of betraying a person who could see the future.

It may all be fake, but he had witnessed Arthur's foresight firsthand, and to him, it was authentic. If Jeren betrayed him, a voice would remain in the back of his mind, constantly asking whether Arthur knew about the betrayal and simply decided not to stop him because he was already walking into a trap.

Foster smiled and put a hand behind his back. "Young master, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It doesn't work like that. Sometimes I see entire days at a time, and sometimes I only see a few minutes, like back at the smithy. Either way, my visions seem to focus on benefiting me and keeping me out of danger, not silly tricks."

"...What about gambling?" Foster asked as his eyes glowed with anticipation.

Since card games existed on Nithe, Arthur had already considered gambling while using Kyren to cheat. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the opportunity yet.

"Do you see many children inside gambling houses?" Arthur asked sarcastically.

"Well, no..." Foster rubbed his chin as he searched his memories. "But I don't think they have any official age restrictions."

"There shouldn't be any. Most gambling houses only care whether or not you have coin." Jeren added.

"I've given it thought before. My age will cause too much of a commotion if I win any substantial amount of money. However, it's on my list of things to test in the future..."

After the short conversation, the carriage arrived back at the military camp, and Arthur departed. It was still humid, but the rain had stopped sometime during the carriage ride, and under the blazing Revan sun, Arthur's damp clothes dried in real time as he walked through the busy encampment.

Fenric exited a tent nearby and, spotting Arthur, exchanged pleasantries. "How your shoulder feeling, lord? If it's better, I've got some free time now if you'd like to go train."

"Hmm... I think it's fine." Arthur rotated his shoulder to check for pain. "My mana is fairly drained, but sure, let's do it."

Honestly, Arthur didn't want to train. He was tired from the hectic day and wanted to work on his spells, but his opportunities to learn from Fenric were limited, so he couldn't pass it up.

Arthur fetched his mount Aithon and met back up with Fenric before riding out a mile or so from the camp. The location Fenric chose was a small grassy field nestled within the edge of a dense green forest. Arthur could still see the military camp in the distance, but the forest's trees blocked the view well enough, so he wasn't worried about being seen.

After dismounting, Arthur stood before Fenric and waited for instruction.

Fenric looked him up and down as if sizing him up. "If you don't mind me asking, what spells have you learned so far?"

"Very few outside of basic life spells. The Revan's technique is honing our telekinesis to the extreme, and as such, there were very few attack spells for me to learn. Outside of fireball, I only know a few earth spells like rock wall, rock pit, rock throw, etc."

Life spells were simple spells like creating a small flame to light a fire or creating some water to drink on a hot day. They were useful and straightforward to learn but had minimal combat usage.

Arthur had played with the thought of converting them into attack spells when he first started learning Aetherin, but it wasn't as simple as turning up the mana usage to create a bigger flame. Instead, he'd essentially have to write a whole new spell which would've taken time from his mana soul research.

As far as his necromancy was concerned, Arthur had no intention of mentioning it to Fenric. He had already doubled the number of living people who knew about it in one day, and it wouldn't be useful in training anyway.

"Hmm..." Fenric rubbed his chin and stared. "Have you imprinted rock wall?"

Arthur shook his head. "I haven't, and I don't intend to either."

"A battlemage's most important spell is a defensive spell. We're made of meat and bone, just like everyone else, so defense should always take priority. Being able to instantly raise a shield toward an oncoming attack instead of wasting your time casting is usually the difference between life and death."

Fenric pointed toward Arthur with his chin. "Step back a ways and shoot a fireball at me."

Arthur played along and did as he was told. He raised his hand as a magic circle formed and shot out a fireball. However, as it reached the halfway point between them, Fenric raised his hand and instantly conjured a magic circle, bringing forth a translucent glass-like blue wall. The fireball collided with it and exploded, scorching the ground between them.

"This spell is called mana shield, and it's saved my life countless times. The spell allows me to change the size and shape of the barrier, but the drawback is I have to continue channeling my mana if I want to keep it up."

While the blue barrier remained, Fenric raised his other hand toward the open field and conjured another magic circle. A tiny spark crackled in the field before an explosion that dwarfed Arthur's fireball by many times rang out a moment later. Thankfully it wasn't aimed at Arthur. Otherwise, he'd be nothing but a sizzling blood mist had it hit him.

"However that drawback only affects those who can't double cast." Fenric said as he lowered his hands, dissipating the mana shield. "It's important to find a defensive spell that suits you and imprint it. Had I not imprinted the mana shield to my mana core, I likely would've been burnt alive by your attack before I could finish casting it."

"I'll have to wait until I have a chance to go to the Mage's Union..." Arthur sighed. "My selection of spells is too limited at the moment."

Arthur was well aware of the benefits of imprinting spells but couldn't justify wasting the limited space on his core with some mediocre spell like rock wall. Anything he imprinted on his mana core was permanent, and Arthur's plans for the future didn't allow for such frivolous use of its space.

Besides, the Revan telekinesis technique had a method of protection that Arthur hadn't yet had the skill or opportunity to master. It worked by stretching the caster's will to form an intangible wall in front of them that could block magic, much like Fenric's mana shield.

It sounded simple, but in actuality, it was one of the most challenging methods of defense a mage could employ. That's why Arthur wasn't entirely against the idea of imprinting a defensive spell. He just didn't want that defensive spell to be rock wall.

"As you say, lord." Fenric nodded and drew his sword. "Then let's focus on swordplay for now."

Arthur sighed and hesitantly drew his sword as well. "I'll warn you ahead of time, but I'm not very good with a sword."

"Every journey begins with one step, and even if you don't have the talent for it, not all battlemages learn swordplay. However, as a mercenary, my combat technique focuses on swordplay while magic is interwoven between strikes when necessary. So if you want to learn from me, you'll have to learn the sword..." Fenric paused and adjusted his stance. "Now, come at me so I can see your skills for myself."

Arthur nodded before taking a deep breath and charging forward with the ferocity and skill of an overzealous larper. Unfortunately, much like a larper attacking a real medieval knight, as soon as he reached Fenric and swung his sword, Arthur found himself facedown in the dirt with nary a clue as to how he ended up there.

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