The next morning, before the sky had even begun to brighten, Matthew was already awake.
He quickly packed his belongings and walked out of the inn, heading straight toward the outer city.
When he arrived at the valley again, the morning mist had not yet dissipated.
He found a secluded clearing, cleared his mind of stray thoughts, and began to focus on practicing the spells he had mastered.
As he whispered the incantations, his Spirit flowed through his body like a stream, pouring into the spell structure along invisible paths.
Feeling the smoothness of the casting, he couldn't help but sigh softly in his heart.
However, that sigh only flickered across his mind and left little trace.
He knew very well that now was not the time for deep reflection or sentimentality.
Thus, that small sigh was like a stone cast into a pond, rippling a few shallow circles before sinking to the bottom, forgotten.
A small flame abruptly appeared in his palm, gradually expanding.
With a slight thought, the flickering flame in his hand suddenly contracted and condensed, transforming into a slender and sharp fire arrow that shot out silently.
The fire arrow cut through the thin mist lingering in the valley, leaving a fleeting scorched trail before accurately striking a brownish-gray rock half the height of a man dozens of paces away.
“Sizzle—”
There was no thunderous explosion as one might expect, only a faint sound, like a hot iron being plunged into water.
The surface of the rock was instantly pierced with a hole the size of a bowl. The edges appeared glassy from melting and then cooling, and the internal structure had already crystallized under the extreme heat.
A wisp of blue smoke rose slowly, and a faint scorched scent permeated the air.
Matthew withdrew his palm and quietly stared at the wound in the rock.
The power was acceptable.
The Spirit consumed by this strike had not significantly decreased compared to when he cast spells of the same level at the peak of the Brass Rank.
Furthermore, the flow speed of Spirit during the casting process and the resonance intensity with the elements had not undergone a qualitative change due to the leap in his life level.
“It seems... the breakthrough to the Silver Rank provides almost no enhancement to spells; it’s practically negligible.”
On second thought, he accepted it.
After all, what the Silver Rank brought was a world-shaking change to his physical body and life energy.
The halls of magic, however, seemed to still stand on another parallel and independent path. He had not yet truly crossed that threshold.
Nevertheless, he could feel that once he made further progress on the path of a wizard, it would likely provide further feedback to his body.
He slowly exhaled a mouthful of turbid air, dispersing the remaining warmth in his palm.
The morning light grew brighter, and the silhouettes within the valley became clear.
Setting aside his thoughts, he began to practice once more.
The morning passed quietly amidst focused chanting, hand gestures, and repeated bursts of flame.
He constantly adjusted the rhythm of his mana output, compressed the form of the flames, and optimized the timing of the bursts. Using the delicate perception provided by his Spirit, he polished this basic spell down to the smallest detail.
Finally, after countless attempts, a notification appeared—
【Fireball spell proficiency +1】
【Fireball spell: Basic (1/200)】
A certain invisible barrier was quietly broken.
By this time, fine beads of sweat had formed on Matthew’s forehead, but a genuine smile involuntarily curled at the corners of his mouth.
“My progress with the Fireball spell is faster than expected. It seems my hard work during this period hasn't been in vain,” he whispered to himself.
He felt a gentle and continuous flow of warmth coming from his spiritual core.
This warm current was not violent, but it was unending, quietly nourishing his mind, which had become slightly tense from the focused spellcasting.
He knew this wasn't an illusion—this was the additional enhancement provided by the “panel” after a breakthrough in a spell’s realm.
It didn't just represent a deeper level of control over fire; it substantively brought him a new, more refined reserve of mana.
With a thought, Matthew’s lips parted slightly as he once again whispered the incantation he now knew by heart. As the syllables flowed, mana gathered and took shape.
A new fireball, with a more condensed color and a clear, stable outline, quietly emerged in his palm, burning silently.
Matthew stared at the leaping orange-red flame in his hand, sensing the completely different energy rhythm within it.
Compared to before, this fireball was not only hotter and more stable, but more importantly, his sense of control over the flame had reached a new level.
With a slight thought, the fireball did not immediately shoot out. Instead, it began to slowly rotate, stretch, and deform according to his will.
At times, it transformed into a slender fire line, weaving nimbly between his fingers.
At other times, it condensed into a thin fire shield; though not thick, he could clearly feel its ability to isolate and deflect external energy.
He even tried to make the fireball suddenly split after leaving his body by several feet, turning into several smaller fire bolts that scattered in a fan shape, accurately covering an area ahead.
“So this is the control of the Basic stage...” Matthew realized in his heart.
This wasn't just an increase in power; it was a deepening of his understanding of the spell’s essence and a more refined manipulation of energy forms.
At the Novice stage, he was merely “releasing” fire.
Now, he possessed the preliminary ability to “shape” fire.
“However, the essence of these shapes is still just fire at the Basic level. It’s still weak.”
But this was already quite good. After all, Matthew’s other spell, Energy Missile, did not have the ability to be “shaped.”
Furthermore, once the Fireball spell progressed even further, forming a true shield was not impossible.
At this thought, Matthew’s mind focused once again.
The orange-red flame leaping and changing shape at his fingertips suddenly ceased its playful movements under the guidance of his will.
All the scattered fire energy was like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, instantly collapsing and condensing back into a more solid fireball that faintly glowed blue at its core.
He no longer hesitated. With a flick of his wrist, the fireball shot out like a scorching meteor.
The fireball did not follow a straight path. Midway through its flight, Matthew let out a low shout!
It traced a subtle arc, curving around a protruding rock in front of it and heading straight for a withered tree the width of a bowl behind it.
“Sizzle—Boom!”
First came a sharp burning sound as the fireball struck the middle of the trunk.
What followed was not a violent explosion, but a more concentrated release and incineration of energy. The point of contact on the trunk was instantly carbonized and pierced. The intense heat ignited the dry wood inside, and flames erupted from the front and back holes, rapidly spreading upward.
In just two or three breaths, the entire withered tree was swallowed by roaring flames, turning into a crackling giant torch that sent waves of heat toward him.
At the same time, Matthew gasped for breath, fine sweat dripping from his forehead.
That curved fireball might have looked graceful and effortless, but it had actually cost him a great deal of mental effort.
His Spirit was like a string being forcibly tightened. Maintaining the fireball’s form and stabilizing its flight path while precisely guiding it around an obstacle—this attempt at high-precision shaping and manipulation of “Basic” fire was far more exhausting than a simple direct shot.
...
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