By the time Athar arrived at his building, he had considerably calmed down. He knew that although he was extremely angry, he could not act out of rage. He needed to think calmly and clearly before taking any decision.
He had more than a week before Dervin would expect him to show up and pay his thirty percent of his resources. His main priority should be to focus on the academy for now.
Putting aside all these thoughts, Athar sat down, and with a will, his companion, the little snake, was summoned outside.
Athar had initially been very happy when he had learned about the fruit and had thought that he would be able to raise the grade of the little snake. But things were not so simple.
Firstly, the snake was not ready to go for an upgrade. It would need to have sufficient strength to rise to the gold grade. And though Athar was not sure, he believed that snake would need to reach at least C Rank before he could rise to the gold grade.
Secondly, one fruit was definitely not going to be sufficient for the snake. It needed two of these fruits.
Athar felt that after seeing him, the snake let out a 'smile' as it hissed and slithered towards Athar. The connection between them told Athar that his partner was quite happy and pleased.
With time, the bond between them would only grow stronger, and he would be able to understand his beast better.
Athar crouched on the ground as he slid his index fingers on the scales of the snake.
"Your scales are really shiny," he mumbled. "And it looks durable too, even when you are so small."
The snake hissed as if agreeing with Athar's words.
"Now, don't you think that you need a name?" he said. "I cannot continue calling you snake."
The snake hissed again as he slithered his body and climbed onto Athar's arms through his palms.
"Name?" Athar contemplated, meanwhile the snake had circled itself around Athar's wrist in the form of a bracelet.
"Little Black," Athar said. "How does this sound?"
Athar felt a happy feeling being transmitted from his companion, who had just been named Little Black.
With this, Athar stood up as he thought about the first skill he had gotten from Little Black. He raised his palm, and black shadowy mist started to erupt from it, and soon it took the shape of a small ball.
He, with his will, directed the mist to move towards the wooden chair of the room. Midway, the ball of mist transformed itself into a rope-like structure one foot long. There was no crashing sound as it collided with the chair. It simply penetrated the chair, and a small hole had been formed on the backrest of the chair.
Athar felt all his mana draining by now as he loosened his control, and the mist disappeared. He approached the chair and closely studied the hole in it. The hole was not a simple hole; the outer edges of the hole felt as if the wood had been corroded. The mist had acidic or a better term would be poisonous properties.
Athar felt satisfied with the skill. He felt it was quite a powerful skill.
This was the inherent skill of Little Black, and he hoped that in the future, Little Black could provide him with more powerful skills.
"I must also practice the mana cultivating technique," Athar mumbled to himself.
Although his body was naturally absorbing mana, the amount was pitiful, and if he wanted to increase his mana capacity, he needed to practice cultivation. As his strength would rise, the amount of mana that would be naturally absorbed would be too negligible to be even considered.
He tore open the paper bag. Inside it was the uniform of his academy, a guideline book, and another booklet – Basic Mana Cultivation Manual.
And thus begun, Athar's mana cultivation journey.
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(Two Days Later)
It was the third day after he had registered himself in the academy, and today was the day when he had to report to the academy. Although the deadline was by evening, Athar was already at the gates of the academy even before noon.
A small backpack was hanging on his shoulder – two sets of spare clothes and the uniform of the academy, along with the two booklets he had received from the academy, had been placed inside it.
As per the rules, a student was obliged to wear the academy uniform only during classes. The rest of the time, he was free to wear whatever he wanted.
He entered the main hall and approached the New Registration counter, behind which the old man was again in a half-sleepy state.
A knock on the glass from Athar brought the old man to a conscious state.
"Ah!" The man gazed at Athar. "It is you."
"You are quite early," the man mumbled as he pulled out his thick register. He scribbled down something on it and then placed a rectangular-shaped thin metal strip on it.
"Your Identity card," the man said as Athar picked it up and started to inspect it.
The card was eight centimetres long and five centimetres wide. On the front, his name was engraved upon it with a number below it. It was his student ID.
On the other side was engraved 'Class – A6,' which meant first year and the batch of the sixth month.
'Room – D4C,' which meant his room was in D block, fourth floor, and room number C.
"While you are in the academy, everything you do will be recorded through your student ID. The resources you receive, the rewards you get, or the punishments you get," the old man informed further.
"Do you want me to show you your room, or can you manage?" the old man asked politely with a fake smile.
Athar had wanted the old man to show him his room, but the eyes of the man were clearly screaming to him – 'Do not dare to ask me to show the room. I want to sleep.'
Athar thus sighed, "I will manage."
"Good," the old man smiled brilliantly, and Athar walked away with a shake of his head while the old man was back to his nap.