"The Flagship Salad, the Orion Faction, and, hmm… Southern Pork Knuckle… three rice puddings." Being a regular, Bart rattled off a few dishes without even looking at the menu.
"What do you guys want for your main course?"
Richard chose the sea bass.
"The same as Rick." Rick was the nickname Richard's friends used, and Rorschach, drawing from his predecessor's memories, called him that as well.
"Come on! If you order something else, we can share. Besides, the salad I ordered already has fish in it."
"Fine, the Xia Palace Fried Pork Chop. With a side of applesauce."
"That'll be all." Richard smiled and handed the menu to the waitress. The tall, handsome, and polite young man left the young waitress a little star-struck.
The slight hesitation irritated the already keyed-up Bart. "You got all that? Hurry up and tell the kitchen! Our stomachs are growling like bellows!"
"Bart, don't be like that. We should respect every…"
"My dear Rick, I'm the most respectful person to the staff in this restaurant. You know why?" Bart tossed a Gold Coin in the air and caught it. "Because I guarantee you won't find a customer who tips more generously than I do!"
Richard was about to say more, but Rorschach quickly changed the subject. "We all passed the assessment. What are your plans for the future?"
The academic system at the Empire Royal Magic Academy was quite different from other places. Elsewhere, a Magic Apprentice was treated like a craftsman's apprentice, often spending years, or even more than a decade, living like a servant under their master.
The Magic Guild was a loose organization. Whether an Apprentice could be recognized as a Basic Level Mage depended largely on their master's whim, and each Mage or Mage Corps's Magic Tower was relatively isolated.
The educational methods and assessments the Empire was testing and promoting at the Academy fixed the program length to four to six years. After passing, one would become an Official Mage. If they chose to continue their studies by joining a Magic Tower, they could learn and research as a Collaborator, a much better position than that of a traditional Magic Apprentice.
For those who didn't choose further study, the Empire would recruit these Low Tier Mages to join the army as combat assets or station them across the Empire to handle Magic-related affairs.
Even apprentices who failed the assessment and gave up the path of Magic were sought after by the army, various Empire departments, numerous merchant associations, and the Magic Guild. Talented individuals who could read, write, and calculate fluently would not be wasted, regardless of whether they could perform any damn magic tricks.
'I think I understand the Fireball Skill fanatic's thinking now.' Rorschach sorted through the information and his thoughts, finally grasping why the original owner of his body had been so obsessed with the Fireball Skill.
The Fireball Skill was the most direct and powerful of all Basic Level Spells. Whether he passed the assessment or not, specializing in this spell would allow him to potentially join the army or become a mercenary or Bodyguard. These professions required combat ability and offered higher salaries than clerical jobs. It was a core Skill that could broaden his employment options and raise his salary expectations.
The reason the original Rorschach was so eager for employment was, of course, his family. His parents were merely farmers with a small plot of land. Their advancing age meant their ability to work was declining, making it highly unlikely they could support him through advanced studies to become a Tier 7 or higher Middle Level Mage. His initial enrollment in the Academy had been possible thanks to funding from the village chief and other townsfolk, but that support couldn't last forever.
If he joined the army and earned military honors, he might even have a chance to be ennobled as military Nobility, be granted a small fiefdom with tenant farmers and servants, and then his parents would no longer have to toil.
This was the original Rorschach's beautiful dream, but it was not the current Rorschach's.
'Now that I've come to a world with Magic, how could I not explore its knowledge and master more wondrous, Mighty Powers?'
'I don't want to spend my life as a guy who just shoots fireballs!'
But Rorschach couldn't just abandon the original's parents. Money—or more accurately, the funds to support his path in Magic—had become his biggest problem. At this moment, he couldn't help but sigh at the convenience enjoyed by Transmigrators who start out as orphans. Being free of attachments certainly eliminated a lot of worries.
Bart's voice broke Rorschach's train of thought. "Future plans… I'm not really interested in my old man's business… What do you guys think if I became a Town Mage appointed by the Empire Council?"
Bart leaned forward, rubbing his thumbs together over his clasped hands—a habitual gesture when he was scheming. "You might not know this, but the state Elder of my hometown, Fuguo Castle, Old Beili, started out as a Town Mage… Old Beili is my idol now! You haven't seen that dried-up old man. He's a nice guy, but if you ask me, his brains and Casting Ability are absolutely terrible! If I take that path, just you wait, I'll have a seat on the Empire Council!"
'Isn't the leap from a grassroots town official to the head of a state a bit big?' Rorschach looked at the ambitious Bart and held his tongue. He had to admit, a family business that spanned multiple states and provinces of the Empire could indeed give Bart a significant push.
"What about you, Rorschach? Don't tell me you're still planning to join the Empire Army! My dad told me those noble generals look down on people… It'd be a waste of your talent! If you just say the word, my family's business is willing to sponsor you to go to a Magic Tower!"
Rorschach gave a noncommittal response, joking, "When this Little Mage is truly out of options, I'll come running to the future councilor for help."
The previous Rorschach had a proud streak. Knowing this, Bart didn't press the issue and turned to Richard instead. "What about you, Rick?"
Richard's soft, slow words, however, startled them both. "I'm reporting to the Empire Army."
"Your father's idea?"
"My father has already made the arrangements. Although I'll be entering the army, I'll continue my studies under the Empire Army's chief Magic Consultant…" Richard's face was expressionless as he said this, leaving Bart and Rorschach unable to gauge his own feelings on the matter.
The atmosphere grew a little cold. When the food arrived, the three of them ate in silence. Rorschach cut into his thin pork chop, which was bigger than his face, and the scraping of his knife against the ceramic plate made an unpleasant sound.
"Will we still be able to see each other often in the future?" Bart suddenly sighed.
"It'll be difficult, but not impossible." Rorschach tasted his main course. The pork chop had been pounded out large and thin with a meat tenderizer, and its breading formed a crispy crust. Without the jam it was served with, it had a light, salty, and peppery flavor.
"After all, this is a world with Magic."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bart was baffled, viciously cutting into his pork knuckle.
"Rorschach is right."
After the meal, Bart suggested going to a tavern for another drink. The Moonlight Lake Restaurant only served low-alcohol sparkling wine and beer, which clearly didn't meet Bart's standard for "a real drink."
"I was so nervous last night I didn't sleep well. I'm going back to catch up on sleep." Rorschach declined the offer. Richard didn't want to drink either, so Bart had to drop it.
The Magic Realm had always been divided on how to view fermented Jade Dew. One side praised it as a wellspring of inspiration for art, creation, and Magic, while the other decried it as an agent of chaos and foolishness, a poison to reason and the mind. But regardless, Rorschach had more important things to do. He needed to get back to his dorm room and be alone as soon as possible.
But there was already someone in Rorschach's private dorm room.
When he pushed the door open, he saw a bald, menacing-looking man staring at him.
Sibins, the head of school discipline, a former Empire Soldier, and the only administrator at the Royal Magic Academy who couldn't use Magic.