Chapter 391 Training and Dwarven Jokes

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Three months passed in the blink of an eye.

After Hoffman agreed to help, Ansu's days in the Second Era finally felt a bit more real and enjoyable.

Considering his current state, which only required him to focus on spiritual power, Hoffman had specially chosen a completely different training system for him.

This was an advanced doctrine called the 《Theory of Source Essence》, and its school of thought was known as the Source Essence School.

Scholars of this school believed that whether it was the mana that constructed all miracles, the spiritual power that carried spirituality, or elemental forces like earth, wind, water, and fire, they all ultimately originated from the primordial “Source Essence.”

The “Source Essence Cultivation Method” Ansu was learning was like a towering tree, clearly outlining the complete hierarchy of how mana dissipated from its “source” and descended into the physical realm.

A caster's training meant swimming upstream along the trunk—starting from the physical realm, passing through the Etheric Realm and the Astral Spirit Realm, and tracing back step by step to the purest source. The countless branches along the way corresponded to the diverse training paths in the physical realm, and the ultimate end was to resonate with the source of the world.

This was a theory Ansu had never heard of before. It could be called the most fundamental and mysterious part of magic, and was even a law that could theoretically touch the domain of the “gods.”

In just three short months, he had benefited immensely.

At the same time, he couldn't help but sigh in his heart that the Third Era he came from was truly an era of magic decay...

A training system that would have people in future generations fighting tooth and nail for was something Hoffman had merely thought about for a moment before casually pulling a book from the shelf and tossing it to him.

A quiet afternoon in the academy.

Hoffman's three disciples all looked up at the four entire crates of mithril stones floating in midair, their eyes filled with awe.

Those heavy crates hovered steadily, without even the slightest wobble.

“Su's spiritual power is getting more and more absurd,” Arnold couldn't help but praise.

“Mithril has an extremely high density. It would take the three of us working together with gravity magic quite a bit of effort to move it, yet he lifted it effortlessly using only his spiritual power... Looking at how easy it is for him, adding a few more crates probably wouldn't even be a problem.”

“In that case...” Falco's eyes darted around, his tone teasing, “we might as well leave all the heavy lifting to Su from now on.”

He smiled, quietly pressing his palm downward as he suddenly layered a gravity magic spell onto the crates.

The weight of the four crates of mithril multiplied several times over.

At first, the crates wobbled slightly, and a smile was just beginning to curl at the corners of Falco's lips...

But very quickly, that smile froze on his face.

The wobbling vanished in an instant. The invisible spiritual power actually pushed back against the gravity magic, slowly lifting the crates higher.

“Stop, stop!” Falco hastily withdrew his magic. If these two forces continued to clash head-on, they would definitely trigger a mana explosion.

Talier, who was busy smithing nearby, gave him a speechless glance. “Always picking on the newcomer. You elves are truly malicious.”

“I'm picking on him?” Falco's eyes widened. “Look at him!”

Everyone turned their gaze over, only to see Ansu controlling the four crates of mithril, moving them up and down like dumbbells, looking ridiculously relaxed.

Hoffman, who was watching from the side, couldn't help but smile, praising him sincerely, “His current spiritual power is far more abundant than the three of you combined.”

“Su, if you still had a physical body right now, coupled with this level of spiritual power, you would undoubtedly be one of the top, most powerful mages of this era.”

To be personally praised as “powerful” by someone of Hoffman's caliber was quite gratifying to Ansu.

Man, he had truly learned some real stuff from this trip back in time...

If he kept going at this rate...

Who knew, maybe he really could go toe-to-toe with Celia?

Before, saying something like that carried a bit of self-deprecation, but now he genuinely wanted to challenge Miss Witch to a fight.

After spending this period of time together, Ansu had gradually grown close to these three fellow disciples, in addition to Hoffman.

The three of them had very different personalities, and when gathered together, the laboratory was never short of lively chatter.

Arnold, who was currently organizing Hoffman's experimental manuscripts, was the chief apprentice. He was steady, honest, and meticulous in his work.

Falco, who was half-heartedly observing Ansu from the side, was Hoffman's last disciple. He had a humorous, free-spirited, and carefree personality, but possessed the innate pride of the elven race deep down, and his magical talent was extremely high.

On the other end, Talier, who was silently hammering away, might have looked like a burly man, but she was exceptionally delicate in her thoughts. She usually took good care of Ansu, this poor outsider.

She was only naturally at odds with Falco.

After all, elves always loved to crack jokes at the expense of dwarves. In their circles, dwarves were practically synonymous with punchlines.

Whenever they had a free moment, Falco would definitely sidle over to tell everyone his newly invented “dwarven jokes.”

“Everyone knows that Sirens lure sailors to jump into the sea with their songs, but how did this piece of information get out?”

Arnold paused, asking honestly, “How did it get out?”

Falco replied, “Because dwarves can't climb over the ship's railing, so they were the ones who brought the news back.”

Talier: “...”

“I heard there's a mysterious island in the Stormy Seas,” Falco said secretively. “Any humans or elves who enter will be sliced in half at the waist by an unknown magic.”

Arnold blinked. “Ah?”

Falco said, “So now, it has become the biggest safe haven for the dwarven race.”

Talier: “......”

Floating in midair in his spiritual form, Ansu couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.

Arnold didn't want his junior sister Talier to realize he was laughing too, so he could only bury his face in the desk in agony.

Only Master Hoffman was still quietly reading his magic texts. Ansu looked over, thinking that the master truly had an incredible poker face.

“Did you know? Actually, the name ‘dwarves’ was spread by dwarves in advance,” Falco explained to everyone. “To prevent other races from calling them ‘squashed people’ the first time they saw them.”

Talier: “Falco! That's enough!!”

Without any surprise, Talier snatched up the one-handed hatchet at her side and began chasing Falco all around the room, circling the lab bench.

Once their scuffle was over, Ansu drifted over to the disheveled Falco.

The latter touched his chin, which had almost been cleaved off by the hatchet, looking a bit aggrieved. “How strange, Su. Why is she so angry today?”

“Probably because your creativity is getting stronger...” Ansu quietly glanced at Talier, who had resumed smithing, hammering the anvil with thunderous force. “Actually, she couldn't hold it in just now either.”

“Shoot, why didn't you say so earlier!” Falco understood.

Because they had become completely familiar with each other over this period, Falco wouldn't overthink even the most abrupt questions Ansu asked.

Ansu decisively changed the subject. “By the way, Falco, do you know an elf in your tribe named Altina?”

“Altina? Doesn't ring a bell.” Falco shook his head, then grew curious. “What's wrong? How about I ask around for you when I return to Elune?”

“Don't bother.” Ansu hadn't held much hope anyway. He was just suddenly curious about the lineage of the elven royalty.

And inquiring about the secrets of Elune from Falco, this little elven prince, was surely the most reliable channel.

“Sounds like a cute girl's name.” Falco suddenly squinted, nudging Ansu's non-existent shoulder playfully. “Not bad, when did you get to know a girl from my elven race? Is she your lover?”

“No, no...” Ansu shook his head. “Just a friend.”

He recalled the moment right before he arrived here, just as the 【Time Beacon】 was activated—

The sight of Altina rushing over, looking as if she wanted to say something but hesitated, had remained in his mind ever since.

Ansu fell into deep thought.

What on earth did she want to say to him back then?

...

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