Crimson Port was the largest harbor city in the Moonwatch Empire, teeming with life. Between permanent residents and transients passing through, the population reached several million—large even by modern Earth standards.
The busiest street in the city was Autumn Way, where Crimson Academy sat surrounded by an endless array of shops.
Weapon and armor stores lined the thoroughfare, their inventories spanning continents: local-style armor, the Dwarven clans' exquisite weaponry, finely carved Elven armor and bows, heavy iron plate from the western Human kingdoms, chitinous insect armor from the Shathur territories, and thick fur armor from the barbarian tribes.
Enchanted crystal shops and runecarvers competed for space alongside taverns and restaurants. More than a dozen establishments of a decidedly "grayer" nature came alive after dark, their lanterns burning well into the night.
Just off Autumn Way, down Charger's Alley where it intersected with Mare Street, stood a small shop called "Bladestone Enchantments." Unremarkable among the many rune shops in the area, its only distinguishing feature was the relatively fresh paint on its sign—clearly replaced not long ago.
It was nearly time for Crimson Academy's morning classes. Neighboring shops had already arranged their wares in neat displays. The bakery down the street was moving yesterday's unsold bread into the discount section. Yet the door of Bladestone Enchantments remained firmly shut. None of the other shopkeepers paid it any mind. After all, even when it was open, business was abysmal.
Inside the closed shop, in a cramped back room, an enchanted crystal receiver on the large wooden table droned on with the week's updated news:
"The skyship wreckage discovered six days ago by the Autumn Wind adventuring company has been confirmed by expert investigation to be the 'Geta' skyship that disappeared from House Magistar 217 years ago. Lord Donato Magistar has personally led a team to the crash site. According to intelligence from the Autumn Wind company, the area has become home to a colony of wild goblins..."
"According to the intelligence chief of the Dragonspire Empire's Southern Legion, signs of the Black Abyss teleportation gate unsealing have reappeared. Our great Emperor has dispatched two Archmagi, both deeply knowledgeable in sealing magic, to assist the Dragonspire Empire in strengthening the seal. The two Archmagi are..."
"The Lion Kingdom's Karlmo Frostheart will marry his eighty-third wife today. Apart from his apprentices and local esteemed nobles, almost no other outsiders were present to congratulate. According to insiders, the bride is seventeen years old this year—the great-granddaughter of one of Karlmo's grand-apprentices... Karlmo's former lover, Caroline Flameburst, expressed her blessings. Speaking of which, Karlmo is quite vigorous for his age, but compared to his former lover from the Phoenix Empire, he's just small fry..."
"Grand Druid Sidney Greenleaf of the Elven territories recently improved a nature spell specifically for legume crops. Statistics show this spell can increase yield by an additional two percent compared to the pre-improvement version—a very rare improvement in hundreds of years..."
"Some areas in our country's Western Rivers province are experiencing abnormal drought. Both the Adventurer's Guild and the Mercenary Guild have issued related investigation contracts. Discovering the cause will yield substantial rewards and reputation, while resolving the disaster will bring even more generous compensation..."
"The Headmaster of Crimson Academy once again called for the abolition of mathematics, arguing that this course—which has no other use than 'making it harder to miscalculate coin when buying things'—is a waste of everyone's time and life."
"A giant extraterrestrial meteor fell on the capital of the Baroka Kingdom in the Chaos Lands. Fortunately, the capital promptly activated its magical barrier, and the meteor caused minimal casualties. However, the capital's barrier was essentially destroyed. To prevent hostile forces from taking advantage and causing trouble in the city, King Baroka Gryphonheart requested intervention from its overlord, the Phoenix Empire."
"..."
Caelan Ashford slowly sat up from the bed and examined the ligature marks on his neck in the polished silver mirror on the bedside table. They'd faded considerably—now just a faint blue bruise.
After several days of assimilation, Caelan had fully integrated the memories of the previous owner of this body. The original owner's full name was Caelan Ashford of House Ironfist, a native of Western Rivers province in the Moonwatch Empire.
Thanks to his exceptionally high notoriety at the Academy coupled with his exceptionally low power, he'd been mocked relentlessly for years. Over time, the introverted original owner's mentality collapsed. In a moment of despair, he found a sturdy beam in the shop and hanged himself.
After hanging for a while, the beam was indeed sturdy—but the rope wasn't. It broke. However, by then the young man named Caelan was already thoroughly dead. Finally, for some unknown reason, his body was occupied by a soul from Earth.
Caelan Ashford of House Ironfist. "Ironfist" was the House name. House names on this continent were somewhat like earned titles on Earth. For example, someone who earned the title "Thunderstrike" would have descendants who all used Thunderstrike as their House name.
Only when a descendant's achievement reached a recognized level—at least Sixth Circle—could they rename their House. If their accomplishment or power belonged to the same tradition as the inherited House name, they had to surpass the strength of the House founder to change it.
Therefore, everyone in this world took pride in being able to change their inherited House name. House names had to be based on related achievements, and if your power hadn't reached a certain level, your chosen name couldn't be too grandiose.
For example, if you could masterfully wield the fire evocation "Flame Fan" better than most and achieved great renown, you could take a House name like "Firefan" or "Flamefan." You couldn't take irrelevant names like "Froststorm" or "Lightbringer," nor could you take names that sounded overly powerful like "Doomsday Flame" or "Infernal Fan"—unless your power was truly exceptional, at least reaching Archmagus rank, giving you the qualification to use words like "Doomsday," "Infernal," "Celestial," or "Hope."
However, besides magic and combat, there were other ways to acquire House names. Mastery in cooking, for instance, or exceptional skill in a particular trade. The owner of the shop next door bore the House name "Sweetbread," while the owner of the rune engraving shop across the street was of House "Trident Flame."
The House name "Ironfist" immediately suggested a connection to combat techniques. According to documented proof of the legacy, the ancestor who founded the House was Sixth Circle in power. He'd acquired this House name because when he struck with full force, fire magic would manifest as a spectral ox and charge at his opponent.
As for why it wasn't called "Fireox" or "Raging Bull" or a more imposing variant—mainly because both Fireox and Raging Bull already had established Houses at the time, and the strongest members of those Houses were at least Seventh Circle.
The ancestor's power was insufficient, so he initially chose "Blazing Bull." He was then quickly beaten—insufficient power combined with a House name that displeased an expert could easily lead to violence. The ones who beat him were from House Fireox.
Eventually, he settled on "Ironfist"—a compromise that referenced his unyielding determination rather than the ox manifestation itself.
Over the subsequent three thousand years, no one in the previous owner's lineage ever reached Sixth Circle in power. Whether they learned the inherited Spectral Ox technique or switched to other magical traditions, they never achieved the ability to change their House name. The previous owner's father's strongest affinity was fire magic, and even at his peak, his power barely reached Third Circle. Naturally, he could only continue to pass down "Ironfist."
Whenever Caelan's memories came to this point, he always wanted to complain that this ancestor's naming ability was even worse than his own. If he couldn't be called Blazing Bull, then Raging Fist would've been fine. What kind of House name was Ironfist for someone whose signature move involved spectral oxen?
After complaining about this mediocre House name, let's discuss Caelan's current situation: nineteen years old, magical power assessed as First Circle, currently a special admission student at Crimson Academy.
Mages and warriors in this world were consistently ranked across ten circles: First Circle, Second Circle, Third Circle, Fourth Circle, Adept (Fifth Circle), Expert (Sixth Circle), Master (Seventh Circle), Archmagus (Eighth Circle), Grand Master (Ninth Circle), and Legendary (Tenth Circle).
In fact, tens of thousands of years ago, there had always been seven circles that had been used for countless millennia. Then, at some point, a very powerful and authoritative individual said there should be ten circles to seem complete, so three additional circles were forcibly designated.
That particular individual was still alive and doing well. His name was Tiberius Dragonborn of House Celestial Fist. He held the highest position among the Divine races in the Celestial Realm—he was the current Divine Emperor, and also the universally acknowledged strongest individual below the True Gods in the current world.
The academies on the continent were divided into three tiers: Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. Each tier lasted six years, and the minimum age for enrollment was seven. Basic and Intermediate academies were widespread across the continent, essentially equivalent to twelve years of non-compulsory education where admission was granted as long as you paid. Advanced academies, however, were different—even smaller nations lacked the resources to establish them.
Even the Moonwatch Empire, one of humanity's Six Great Empires, only possessed three Advanced academies. Therefore, admission was restricted. One of Crimson Academy's requirements for admission was to have at least Third Circle power. Most people, after graduating from an Intermediate academy, possessed the abilities of a Second Circle practitioner. In these peaceful times, they could join a company for adventures in less dangerous areas or hunt minor magical beasts for coin.
Although the former body could cast magic from various schools, his low talent led to poor magical affinity. While the impact wasn't as severe as with some hereditary conditions, his combat capability was definitely at the bottom of First Circle.
With First Circle power, the former body naturally couldn't pass the entrance exam for such an Advanced academy—one of only three in the entire nation. The reason he could enter as a special admission was undoubtedly his exceptionally strong talent, which reached an astonishing, highest-grade ten-star rating.
However, this talent attribute was called the Illusion school, or simply "Illusion magic."
Once, over ten thousand years ago, Illusionists were the opponents everyone least wanted to face. No exceptions.
When fighting against an Illusionist, you had to use powerful mental fortitude and willpower to resist the invasion of illusions woven by your opponent. At that time, Illusionists could easily draw their opponents into the illusory realm they created. In the illusory realm they controlled, they could rapidly and intricately cast various spells with very low mana cost, and it would make you feel as if you were truly being attacked. The real attacks hidden within the pervasive illusions were even harder to guard against.
Illusionists could also drown you with an endless stream of creatures you feared, destroying your spirit and will, and make you lose yourself with your deepest desires. Some could even use illusory realms indistinguishable from reality to alter your character and worldview...
These were things people could still barely tolerate, until over ten thousand years ago, an Illusionist emerged who changed the world. Although his Illusion talent was only eight-star and his power was Ninth Circle—not the peak Tenth Circle—his actual combat ability allowed him to fight a Legendary mage for extended periods without falling behind, using illusions that were impossible to distinguish from reality. Not only that, he also mastered the ability to mentally dominate others with woven illusions, making them utterly obedient.
Possessing such incredible abilities, after secretly dominating dozens of Grand Masters, he inevitably embarked on the path of world conquest. At that time, all the powerful mages were terrified—no one wanted to be a puppet without independent will.
It's unclear if that Illusionist committed some heinous act that angered the gods themselves, leading to divine retribution from the Weave.
Just as he was about to rule the entire world, Illusion magic became marked by the Weave itself. The weakening of Illusion magic couldn't even be described as being halved—it was like reducing a full castle to a single brick. Those illusions that could previously be effortlessly conjured, completely indistinguishable from reality, immediately became obviously fake at a glance.
For example: the graphics of a 2024 computer game instantly reverting to crude pixel art.
Even the strongest Ninth Circle Illusionist at the time, with all his mana and mental power, could at most maintain the visual quality of an early 2000s game—and not even the best ones.
Consequently, the mages who had been mentally dominated all broke free. Ultimately, this legendary Illusionist—whose name was not recorded in any tome—died at the hands of Sword Saint Dana Swiftblade, whom he had once controlled. She beheaded him with a single strike and crushed his heart.
Afterward, under the guidance of interested parties, most parts of the world began to mindlessly purge Illusionists, venting their accumulated rage. Although the Mage's Consortium later called a halt, Illusionists across the continent still suffered devastating losses, nearly vanishing from the world entirely.
Furthermore, because Illusionists could barely threaten anyone with illusions anymore, and an Illusionist's mana increased by absorbing the target's emotions within the illusion—the more negative the emotions, the more mana the Illusionist would gain, such as despair before death.
Positive emotions produced very little mana feedback, completely incomparable to the mental energy consumed in creating related illusions. After all, others couldn't constantly find joy in the illusory realm you created—a jest wasn't as amusing after hearing it too many times.
The Weave's intervention made it impossible for Illusionists to pose a threat to people, making it naturally extremely difficult for their mana to increase. People's attitudes toward those with Illusion talent gradually shifted from hatred and vigilance to indifference, and they even began to treat it as an amusement.
Caelan's ten-star Illusion talent was undoubtedly a very great amusement.
Within a very short time after his talent was discovered, Caelan instantly became a continental celebrity. Broadsheets everywhere scrambled to report the news, and many people specially traveled to the obscure Western Rivers province of the Moonwatch Empire just to see this rare little "prodigy"—even if it meant taking a long detour.
Young Caelan had no idea what was happening. He helplessly watched waves of outsiders come to his village specifically to see him. He detested the way they looked at him. He didn't know what those mocking glances meant—he simply found them infuriating.
But the villagers and Caelan's parents were delighted. The villagers were happy because so many outsiders significantly increased their income. His parents were happy because some visitors would bring gifts for Caelan, many of which could be sold. With this coin, their family actually became the wealthiest in the village.
However, this situation didn't last long. People's attention was quickly drawn to new events. After all, the current state of Illusion magic was well-known, and everyone simply regarded this matter as a curiosity.
And Caelan's subsequent performance truly demonstrated that a ten-star Illusion talent could indeed only serve as entertainment.
After twelve years of studying in Basic and Intermediate academies, aside from scoring perfect marks in theoretical and cultural studies—this knowledge could be stored in one's mind palace and reviewed at any time, so not getting perfect marks would be strange—Caelan's mana reserves and combat ability were both only First Circle. His combat capability was even at the very bottom of First Circle.
Originally, under such circumstances, after graduating from an Intermediate academy, Caelan would at most live out his life as a common citizen. However, for some unknown reason—perhaps due to his farmer father's desperate desire for his son to succeed—Caelan's father applied for a "special admission" position at all three Advanced academies of the Empire. Initially, none of the three academies responded.
Yes, all Advanced academies indeed had special admission programs for high-talent individuals, allowing them to enter without meeting the standard requirements. But what kind of talent did Caelan have? It was Illusion magic, which had been crippled by the Weave itself! How many years had Illusion magic been crippled? Admitting him would be pointless—no one would even teach it.
So the academy's leadership intended to simply ignore the application.
Later, after Caelan's father brought Caelan to Crimson Port, Crimson Academy finally admitted Caelan as a special student according to regulations. But the cost was that Caelan's family reverted to its previous impoverished status.
Well, not exactly destitute. At least they still had a small shop of about twenty square meters in the great city of Crimson Port. Although the location was relatively remote, it was at least close to Crimson Academy. The front part of the shop could be rented out, with the income serving as Caelan's living expenses, and the small room of about three square meters inside could serve as accommodation, avoiding the need to live in the academy—Crimson Academy's student dormitories were not cheap.