Chapter 26: Power is Surging

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【Name: Ron Griffith】
【Age: 16/100】
【Rank: Second-Circle Official Mage】
【Skills: Holy Healing (Peak/Mastery) Note...】
【Holy Sword Art (Proficient 192/300) Note...】
【Illusion Casting (Initiate 1/100) Note: Fake it till you make it, but it refuses to be cross-examined!!!】
【Fundamental Magic Theory (Proficient 106/300)】
【Elementary Runology (Initiate 32/100)】
【Culinary Arts (Master 260/3000)】

Feeling the surging mana within his body, a flicker of excitement flashed in Ron’s deep blue eyes.
Official mages are entirely different from apprentices.
After breaking through, Ron could clearly feel that his total mana capacity had nearly tripled.
If measured by the "Holy Sword Art," the old Ron was a small fry who would be tapped out after firing three shots.
Now, he could fire a full nine!
Do not underestimate these nine shots. At the "Initiate" stage of the Holy Sword Art, a single shot could snap an iron longsword.
At the "Proficient" stage, according to Ron’s estimation, one shot would be more than enough to pierce through a thick brick wall.
Not to mention that when facing dark creatures, it could also trigger triple damage.
Converted, that is equivalent to twenty-seven shots!
If the Minotaur Knight were to challenge him to a duel now, Ron would certainly make him realize that "my sword is not unsharp"!

Beyond that, having become an official mage, Ron could clearly feel his thinking had become much sharper.
The accumulated fatigue of the day was swept away, his mental energy recovered much faster than before, and he could easily commit everything he saw to memory, allowing him to cast more complex and precise magic.
More importantly...
"My stamina and physical strength have also increased, and I’ve gained lifespan!"
Glancing at the status bar, Ron revealed a gratified smile.
There is a saying from his past life: the wicked live for a thousand years... wait, no, it’s that good people live to be a hundred!
As for "Holy Healing," no new changes had appeared; it maintained its 1000% pain threshold, indifferent to all pleas.
Actually, it is better that it hasn't changed. My current magical system is like a mountain of spaghetti code; losing any part of it would be a huge blow to my strength...
Jumping off the bed, Ron found a spacious area in the room and instinctively began to practice his swordplay.
After balancing the physical disharmony caused by the breakthrough, he finally turned his attention to the "Illusion Casting" shown on the panel.

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This magic did not fall under the Holy Light system, but rather tended toward the illusion system.
For most mages, it could be considered an essential for travel and home life, an unbeatable choice for quality at a low price.
‘The Stardust Society’s naming convention is still too avant-garde; even the panel couldn't stand it and automatically changed the name for me.’
Ron muttered to himself. Glancing at the note about "faking it till you make it," a bold idea suddenly formed in his mind.
Fake it till you make it—how realistic can it actually be?
Thinking of this, a perverted grin appeared on the handsome young face of the blond boy.
He went to the mirror and pulled a copper deer coin from his pocket.
"This is a gold lion, this is a gold lion, this is a gold lion!!!"
Ron muttered incessantly as if he had lost his mind, while simultaneously constructing the spell model in his mind, channeling his mana to force the copper coin in his hand to be reborn.
However, after a full ten seconds, nothing happened.
He had suffered a shameful defeat!
Ron’s breathing hitched, and he knelt on the floor, transformed into a black-and-white statue.
He had lost a dream of making it big.
It seems the magic effect for transforming into inanimate objects really doesn't work. Well, that’s still better than turning into poop...
Shaking his golden head to toss the chaotic thoughts away, the boy stood in front of the full-length mirror once more.
Rather than transforming into inanimate objects, what Ron was actually more looking forward to was whether he could transform into the appearance of other people.
He stared blankly at himself in the mirror, his mind suddenly recalling the late Baron, who had been posthumously titled a "Saint."
The next moment, the boy reconstructed the corresponding spell model in his mind, and the mana in his body surged rapidly toward his right palm.
Did it work!?
Ron was stunned, then used his right hand to select himself as the casting target.
Silently, the pretty boy in the mirror had changed into a different appearance.
"Baron Mark" stared at himself in the mirror in astonishment, touching his aged face in disbelief.
The skin was dry, the touch was real, and even the clothes were identical.
It was as if the Baron had climbed out of his coffin and was standing right there; there was no sense of illusion whatsoever.
As the caster, Ron’s perception was even more surreal. He could clearly feel a shell of mana wrapping around him, and he could dispel this magic whenever he wished.
However, there was one thing Ron wanted to criticize.
For some reason, he felt a bit of a headache.
Furthermore, his body felt heavy, his eyes dim, just like an elderly man whose life was burning out.

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Don't be so realistic in that department, hey!
Realizing something, Ron’s mouth twitched. He suddenly felt that this magic might not be entirely normal.
Over the next dozen minutes, he changed into various appearances, including fake people he had invented and acquaintances he knew.
Soon, he discovered that his strength was strictly tied to the character he transformed into.
If he changed into a five-year-old child, Ron’s strength would be weakened accordingly.
And if he turned into someone stronger than himself, his power ceiling would be capped at his current peak, unable to advance even an inch.
Just as the panel note indicated.
Fake it till you make it.
A knockoff is always a knockoff!
The blond boy pursed his lips, feeling that his future was dim and devoid of light.
Knock, knock, knock...
On this lonely and sorrowful night, the door to Ron’s room, 301, was suddenly knocked upon, pulling the gloomy boy back to reality.
It’s the middle of the night—who is looking for me?
Glancing at the sky outside, Ron quickly composed himself, walked to the door, and peered carefully through the peephole.
But one look left him frozen in place.
Ron never expected that this guy would show up at his door.
He saw the young man outside holding a bouquet of flowers, his lips curled into a self-deprecating smile, the reluctance and attachment in his eyes so clear.
Isn't this the guy who was doing a love divination at Lady Windbell’s place?
Why would he be looking for me?
In an instant, Ron clutched his rear, his face turning pale.
He had heard that in the capital, where darkness and perversion coexist, there are many creepy stalkers.
During the day, they wander the streets to pick their favorite targets.
When night falls, they follow you home to sniff the shoes you wore all day and lick the socks you’ve been wearing.
Some even steal underwear to perform unspeakable, terrible acts.
At the thought of this, Ron gagged in disgust.
Clearly, he had been targeted!