8. Improvements

8. Improvements

"A cat," Flint said. "That's her biggest selling point?"

"To be fair, he's very cute," Morgana replied seriously. "And he's good with strangers. He does this thing where he rolls over and sleeps on his back, and he doesn't care if you rub his stomach. He's such a good boy."

Flint stared at her.

Morgana kept a straight face.

"Ah, come on, it's the best we can do, and we all know it," Vesper said, rolling her eyes. "What do you think?"

"What I think," Flint emphasized, turning to his sister, "is that going into the dungeon with inadequate gear, no mentorship, no potions, no supplies, and an incomplete party essentially guarantees that one of us will get killed."

"Don't be dramatic."

"I'm not. I'm really, really not."

"We might be able to fill out the party," Vesper said, waving in dismissal. "It just won't be people from our guild."

"Most people delve with their colleagues. Even I know that. Seeing how we aren't prime material for teammates, I seriously doubt we'd be able to find any of the rare free agents."

Vesper shrugged. "Maybe. But again, it's not like we're drowning in choices. This our only option."

"That's not entirely true," Flint said.

"Hm?"

"Morgana could find a way into her guild on her class alone. She's a [Mage]. And not our responsibility anyways," he said, shooting a quick look at Morgana that wasn't necessarily unfriendly, but definitely implied that he didn't see her as a necessity to their group, as Vesper for some reason did. Morgana didn't blame him; he was being practical. "And two silver each when the registration is eight is too little. But six, if only one of us were to apply? It could happen."

Vesper stared blankly at her brother. Morgana winced, since the girl actually didn't seem to understand what Flint was saying.

"You register alone," Flint said. "And I'll figure something else out."

For a second, Vesper looked like she'd been slapped. Then she got angry. "What? The fuck are you talking about? We're going in together. That's always been the plan."

"Plans change based on reality," Flint replied, seeming annoyed. "And guess what our reality is?"

"Our reality is having a cat as a mascot and an eccentric Guildmaster," Vesper growled. "Not that I'm registering alone. Besides, we don't even know if it'd work. Basically everyone was super strict on the registration fee. Even six might not cut it."

"It would. I've already floated the idea."

"What?"

"Be reasonable," Flint said. "You're the one with a class, anyway, not me."

"Temporary problem."

"It's obviously the smarter—"

"Keep talking and we're gonna end up fighting," Vesper said, her tone clipped.

Flint sighed. "Vesper. Don't be—"

And it worked.

A faint blue stroke appeared. It startled Morgana so much her concentration broke, dispelling the image.

She hurriedly re-summoned it. The new mark was nowhere to be seen. But she had proved that they were malleable. Invokable, though, once changed? That had yet to be seen. But she had a good feeling.

Some quick experiments later, she found that erasing existing lines was as easy as adding new ones. Rather than building off the complete mess that was the default [Magic Missile], she erased the entire design and started from scratch.

[Magic Missile] was a funny spell. A classic to all neophyte mages in existence, it was one of the oldest and most iterated-upon designs in all of spell architecture history. It had become, in recent times, almost like a puzzle. A friendly contest between academic peers. Who could create the most efficient design? The competition had become nearly an obsession, despite that [Magic Missile] was far from the most effective piece of war magic. Rather, the opposite. It was a spell using arcane mana—the purest of mana types, some would say, and also the easiest to utilize—to function. And arcane mana wasn't especially suited toward destruction. Not like, say, fire or lightning.

Which was probably why the System had chosen it as an ability for a 'level 1' to use. In Morgana's world, beginners utilized the design because it was easy to invoke. As all spells using arcane mana were. Well, comparatively speaking. Magic in general was a difficult field, for most people.

The Institute's obsession to perfect its design was more a matter of intellectual competition than anything, though. A fixation based on its simplicity and prevalence. Perhaps, in some way, like a challenge to provide the most elegant proof to some fundamental yet simple mathematical claim.

And Morgana, someone who had spent her life in the Institute, was aware of that ongoing contest. She hadn't engaged herself, but she had observed the relevant discourse. Noted the competing designs. Memorized them, even, though not intentionally; Morgana had always had a keen mind when it came to spell construction. Most spells, she only needed to see once to engrave within the enormous database of designs stored within her head.

As such, improving upon the System's design wouldn't be difficult. She had the efforts of the entire Institute at her back.

She began to etch the new collection of lines and runes. For the enclosure, a circle: the most common, though not simplest, of spell encasings. With three primary lines of symmetry, balancing a formula with a circular enclosure could quickly prove tricky. Not as complex as a hexagon, octagon, or a stranger freeform encasing, but difficult nonetheless.

But this was a problem solved by the brightest minds of the Institute. Such a clever implementation even Morgana had been impressed when noting it, hence her clear memory of it. She needed no ingenuity herself: she simply needed to borrow from her peers.

The runes interwoven with balancing lines took form within her mind, replacing the jumbled mess that comprised the original drawing. Unlike the system's choice, the perfected—or at least close to perfected—design of [Magic Missile] which Morgana's society had created was only a handful of runes, a few quick strokes to balance them. Twenty times simpler—at least by quick appraisal—than its previous iteration.

***

Spell design recognized as a variation of [Magic Missile].

***

***

Saved as default.

***

***

[Magic Missile]: MASTERED. Aim a burst of arcane energy.

***

Morgana opened her eyes.

Mastered?

That wasn't one of the 'proficiencies' mentioned during her and Vesper's talks in the wagon.

She turned her attention toward the [Thief]. Vesper blinked in return.

"What does 'Mastered' mean?" Morgana asked.