Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 46 The King of Scrolls Arrives
Although Morton loathed this kind of "second-generation nobleman" who was both uneducated and extravagant, he was at least a competent tutor.

He spent the entire morning teaching Chen Mo the refined Blue Leaf Meditation Method of Master Hal's lineage, explaining the names and uses of the accompanying magical materials one by one. Finally, he also taught him a basic spell, Basic Illumination, also known as the Dim Light Spell.

Meditation is used to cultivate mental strength, while the technique of shimmering light is used to train magical power.

This was far more formal than what Chen Mo had learned before. Black Crow Castle basically ignored theoretical foundations and pursued practicality in a one-sided way. It could be understood as a crash course institution like a vocational school, which trains people to be ready to fight immediately upon graduation.

Bring skeletons if you can, bring zombies if you can, bring statues if you can, basically any Tom, Dick, or Harry can be useful.

Their basic education was a complete mess. Even the magic materials for meditation were just packaged and handed out, which is why Chen Mo had a lot of gold coins but didn't know what magic materials to buy on the market.

Now, no matter how much Morton mocks and ridicules Chen Mo during the teaching process, he feels nothing but joy.

"Master Morton, how should we replenish our meditation materials when we run out?"

Morton's lips curled into a sneer: "At your current level, you're already doing your parents a favor by using up all the materials they gave you. Don't think about so many useless things."

Chen Mo pretended not to understand his sarcasm and asked again.

"You can buy it from me, but the price and the basic dosage will be different! Tsk tsk, I forgot, you shouldn't be short of money, so six silver coins per serving will do!"

"Okay, then, Morton, can I also buy potions to replenish my magical power?"

Morton nodded.

He was too lazy to waste any more words on this ungrateful little brat.

The basic tuition fees paid by students to Hal's "Preparatory Magic Tower" already include the basic magical materials needed for each stage of training, which is just enough to meet the maximum efficiency of mental power training. However, if you want to buy additional materials, the price will be exorbitantly high.

Out of dissatisfaction, Morton wanted to double the price again.

Since this ignorant little fellow wants to contribute to Master Hal's magic tower, how can I stop him?
That wasn't the end of it. Chen Mo turned around and found the person in charge of managing the cultivation room, an old man whose exact age was hard to discern, but who looked like he was not far from being buried.

"I would like to use the cultivation room outside of the designated cultivation time. How much will it cost?"

This news was naturally brought to him by the kind-hearted, skinny Cato. Unfortunately, Cato had never used this service before and was unaware of the specific pricing.

The old man lazily raised his eyes to look at the black-haired little fellow, muttering indistinctly, "Five silver coins once, ten silver coins a day."

"What about a monthly subscription?"

The old man raised his head again and carefully looked Chen Mo up and down.

Oh, so it's that guy who spent a lot of money to sneak in. No wonder.

He swallowed hard, then spat out the kernel he was chewing into the waste bin in the corner with a "pop." He pulled out a thick booklet, blew off the dust, and flipped through it for a while before finally finding the correct answer.

It's been a long time since anyone in the Micro-Light Group's training room has purchased any additional value-added services.

"Eighty silver coins for ten days!"

This price is enough to deter most ordinary apprentices.

Chen Mo took out his money bag.

In that instant, he became the very person he once despised—someone who used power, connections, or capital to enjoy privileges.

It turns out that most people's aversion to privilege stems simply from their inability to possess it themselves...

Never mind, I'm doing this to serve my country!
My mental preparation is complete, and I've created a detailed plan. I've also set a "fly" indicator on my tactical watch so I can see it every time I look up. There are 128 days left until the next assessment!
A dense barrage of reminders, with timestamps accurate to the second. Chen Mo, or rather, Roy, thus began his cultivation journey.

I get up at 4:20 in the morning and go for a 30-minute run around the area, while simultaneously creating a mental model of the shimmering light spell.

After finishing his workout, Chen Mo quickly ate a bite of breakfast in the cafeteria before entering the dormitory to begin his meditation practice.

It's not that the other students weren't enthusiastic; meditation is a kind of mental exertion that puts the mind under extreme pressure, and the longer you practice it, the less effective it becomes.

There is a general consensus in the legal community that maintaining a full state of mind and accumulating about two hours of meditation time can maximize the effectiveness of one's practice that day.

It's like taking the same difficult test paper. The first time you do it, you gain a lot. The second time, the only benefit is slight reinforcement. The third and fourth time, besides making your brain dizzy, the value you gain is negligible.

The differentiated effects of meditation practice are like this: if the first two hours of meditation each day can increase mental strength by about 0.02, the effect of the second meditation may only be one-tenth of the first, and the next time it will drop to less than one percent.

The burden was just as heavy, not to mention the astronomical sum of money spent on additional cultivation materials.

But Chen Mo didn't care about that; all he wanted to do right now was practice problems!
The first phase of meditation has ended, and the time is 7:05 on the tactical watch.

Take five minutes to pre-build the spell model for the Light of the Glow spell, close your eyes and rest for ten minutes, then Morton's instruction will begin, starting the day's basic knowledge and spell model analysis.

Starting at 8:20, the other students began to enter the meditation room for meditation practice, while Chen Mo also began his second meditation of the day.

Two hours later, his brain was about to explode, and his temples were throbbing when he came out.

After 10:30, it was Morton's Q&A time. Chen Mo chose to go back to his dormitory to rest and recuperate, since he couldn't understand the questions asked by the veteran apprentices anyway.

Waking up to the alarm at 11 o'clock, Chen Mo rushed into the cultivation room again. This time, he adopted a short meditation, cultivating for only forty minutes, which was equivalent to transferring his brain from a red pot to a white pot. Although it was still cooking, it was not so spicy.

Entering the restaurant before noon, the mealtime was a little late, but Chen Mo, who had the power of money, had Cato prepare a lunch for him. It didn't matter if it got cold, as long as it was edible.

After eating and taking a short rest, I constructed a spell model and entered the training room again at one o'clock.

Another two-hour long meditation session.

Then came the fifth time, an hour; the sixth time, half an hour; and the seventh time, a final two hours, until I was completely exhausted and returned to my dorm to rest.

Repeating the same cycle, Chen Mo began his monotonous and tedious life of going around in circles. Dormitory, canteen, study room, cultivation room, one circle after another, going back and forth every day, as if it were a cycle he could never escape.

He gradually became a unique sight in the entire luminous group.

Always the first to arrive, the last to leave.

Eating is like fighting for food, walking is like running.

In his large water bottle, he was brewing a strong, bitter-tasting herbal tea.

He leaves home in the morning with his backpack bulging, stuffed full of magical materials; he returns late at night with his backpack empty, leaving only an utterly exhausted body.

He was completely isolated from any meals, entertainment, or casual conversations among his apprentices, and he wouldn't even exchange a single extra word with them.

Chen Mo felt as if he had been thrown back into the battlefield called "Dongxia Senior High School," where the world consisted only of the bright red countdown numbers and the relentless training.

Rain or shine, day after day without rest.

Faced with Chen Mo's silence, all the students who had been hoping to see him make a fool of himself fell into a deep silence.

(End of this chapter)