李淳罡死了还是飞升了

They spent most of their days traveling, but even as they walked, Snowcloud made Arran practice his spellcasting with a constant slow barrage of attacks at whatever happened to be on the side of the road.

Occasionally she would give him tips and pointers, but more often, she would scold him if he paused his practice for more than a few minutes.

And sometimes, she would launch sudden attacks, giving Arran only a moment to defend himself with a Force Shield. The attacks were never strong enough to cause serious harm, but the burns and bruises they left were sufficiently painful to motivate him to learn quickly.

The constant spellcasting left Arran exhausted, but he could not deny the results. Within days, his skill at casting spells began to show small signs of improvement, and even if it wasn’t much yet, he could tell that he was making progress.

Moreover, with both his Sense and his control stronger than before, he found that the training also helped improve his understanding of magic.

Previously, he had slavishly followed his spell scrolls’ instructions, weaving strands of Essence together in as close a copy of the originals as he could manage. Yet while simple imitation had allowed him to cast functional spells, it also limited his powers.

Now, however, he started to gain a vague understanding of the principles behind magic, and he began to discover how changing minor parts of his spells could drastically change their effects.

He was still far from reaching any real understanding of how magic worked or altering his spells in any useful ways, but he could feel that he was finally on the right track.

Even if further progress would be slow in coming, he was certain that if he continued his training, it would come eventually.

After several days of Arran practicing by himself, Snowcloud decided her leg had healed enough, and from that moment on, they spent several hours each night sparring against each other.

While they had sparred before, Arran found that their mock battles were now wholly different from before. He understood that Snowcloud previously held back, but it quickly became clear that she had restrained herself far more than he had imagined.

In each new fight, she would combine various spells and techniques in different ways, each time driving Arran to his limit, and then swiftly moving well beyond it.

Sometimes, she would attack with overwhelming power, forcing him to defend with all the strength he could muster. Other times, she would rely on tricks, binding his feet with chains of Air as he rushed toward her, or goading him into launching attacks that she reflected right back at him.

Whatever strategy she used, each time the result was the same, with Arran being defeated again and again.

The endless losses might have hurt his confidence, had it not been for the steady progress he was making.

With each new loss his attacks grew faster and his defenses stronger, and if actually defeating Snowcloud in a fair fight was still well beyond his reach, every day he found himself lasting slightly longer in their exchanges.

"How do I compare to other novices?" Arran asked after the first week of training.

At the question, a thoughtful expression appeared on Snowcloud’s face, and she took some moments in answering.

"You aren’t skilled enough to be a novice yet," she finally said. "But with your power, you could easily defeat most of the weaker novices."

"What about the stronger ones?" Arran asked.

Snowcloud shook her head resolutely. "You would lose. They have been training like this since childhood, and with access to all the resources they needed."

Arran sighed. Although the answer disappointed him, he had suspected as much. But then, a thought occurred to him.

"You said I wasn’t skilled enough to be a novice," he said after a moment’s thought. "But I thought becoming a novice only required learning a single spell?"

"Perhaps in the Empire," Snowcloud replied with a dismissive smile. "In the Society, there are a handful of spells that qualify an initiate to become a novice, and each of those requires a level of skill that is currently beyond you."

Arran frowned, unhappy with the answer. "But you said I can defeat the weaker novices."

"Advancement in the Society is based on skill, not power," Snowcloud explained. "Just having a wealthy family or good fortune can give someone the resources to grow strong. But skill relies on your own work and talent — and those are the things that allow mages to grow truly powerful."

With a laugh, she added, "Of course, having proper trainers still helps."

Although Arran himself had relied mostly on fortune rather than training to reach his current strength, he had to admit that what she said made sense.

With Realm Opening Pills, Natural Treasures, and Essence Crystals, even the least talented mage could grow strong, but without effort and talent, all that strength would go to waste.

He did not know how his talent compared to others, but he decided that if he was to fail, he could make sure it wouldn’t be for lack of effort. The work he put in was something he could control, and he resolved to give it his all.

After that, he increased his training, working even harder than before. Where Snowcloud previously had to scold him to keep up the work, now, he scolded himself when he slacked off — the idea that he lacked the skill to match even the least skilled novices was something he simply could not tolerate.

Yet despite Arran’s newfound fervor, training was not all they did as they traveled.

Three of the ingredients Snowcloud still required would rely on luck to find, and she had given him extensive descriptions of what these looked like — even if the chance of Arran stumbling upon even one of them was small, it wasn’t a chance she was willing to pass up.

Unfortunately, although Arran’s talent for magic was still in question, his talent for herbalism certainly wasn’t — it was entirely clear that he had none of that whatsoever.

Several times each day, he would spot some herb that he believed resembled one of the ingredients they needed, and each time, Snowcloud would briefly inspect it, then spend a quarter hour explaining the many ways in which it was wholly different from what she sought.

Arran meekly endured her explanations, but they had little effect. Inevitably, within a few days, he would make the same mistake again, and receive yet another lecture on the same herbs.

While the lectures had little effect, Arran didn’t mind them too much. With most of his time spent practicing magic, even listening to Snowcloud expound the differences between redleaf flower and orange blossomleaf was a welcome distraction.

And then, there were the villages.

At first, Arran had expected that Snowcloud would want to avoid villages, but it soon turned out that he couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Whenever they passed a village along the road, Snowcloud made it a point to stop and visit the local herbalists and healers, asking whether they had any knowledge of the ingredients she sought, and what herbs could be found in the area.

The conversations often lasted for hours, and after having suffered through several of them, Arran decided that from then on, he would wait in the local inn or tavern instead.

Even if being a Body Refiner meant that drinking a few mugs of ale had little effect on him, it was better than spending hours listening to discussions on the intricacies of herbalism.

On the whole, their journey proved uneventful, even if Snowcloud’s search for herbs and Arran’s training meant they moved considerably slower than they had planned.

Only rarely did they run into bandits, and when they did, a quick display of magic was usually enough to scare off their would-be assailants. Those few bandits who weren’t as quick on the uptake, meanwhile, proved little challenge.

Nearly three weeks passed like this, with Arran and Snowcloud slowly advancing toward their destination, and Arran improving his spellcasting skills with each passing day.

But then, one morning, as they headed for yet another small village along the road, Arran noticed smoke rising in the distance. At once, he knew that the days of quiet travel and training were over — there would be trouble ahead.