3. The Beginning of the Reform

The sun rose.

Brilliant golden sunlight bathed the magnificent floating city.

Gale winds swept by, and clouds, dazzlingly white, rushed past the city’s sides.

One by one, men and women clad in splendid robes strode down the streets with haughty airs. On their chests, badges adorned with stars marked their respective ranks within the magical hierarchy and their social status.

These were the rulers of Eldoronto—the noble mage lords.

Beside some of these aristocratic mages, a few subservient servants walked with lowered heads.

—Even in the floating city, not all residents were mages; there were also the families and servants of the mage lords.

Yet merely by residing in the floating city, these servants held a station far above the common folk of the surface world—those wretched souls who grew and perished like wild grass.

But today was different from all other days.

Most of the passing mage nobles wore solemn expressions, murmuring anxiously.

“What? Hunting the surface commoners for sport is now illegal?”

“And schools are to be built on the surface, allowing those lowly commoners to study magic?”

“This is absurd! Those ignorant surface peasants are not even the same species as us. They cannot read, barely have enough to eat, and know nothing of arithmetic, geometry, or astronomy. And we are to let them learn magic?”

“Is this truly His Majesty’s decree?”

“Absolutely. It is the law and edict just announced by His Majesty himself.”

“What on earth is His Majesty thinking?”

“...”

A large cluster of mages gathered, discussing the recent upheaval.

Their assembly was observed from the palace’s high vantage point, behind glass, by Arian.

“The response is indeed overwhelming...”

In this ancient era, the first human mages who mastered magic had monopolized it, gaining exalted status as the original ruling class and nobility.

A century ago, they united a thousand strong to build this floating royal city, severing ties with the surface commoners.

To grant magic to the surface peasants was tantamount to relinquishing their privileges.

Arian knew well that the original Emperor Arian would never have dared such reform.

It might well have shaken the very foundations of his rule.

But he was different—he was the third incarnation, a soul from another era and a distant future.

He had to see further ahead.

Moreover, compared to the original host, he wielded the capital most reformers rely upon...

Military power.

Ignoring the noisy crowd on the street below, Arian turned and traced his finger lightly in the air, summoning one shining rune after another.

A terrifying magical energy converged.

Then vanished in an instant.

“Although my current magical prowess cannot compare to that of my past life,”

“At least, armed with arcane knowledge from the future, I have effortlessly achieved breakthroughs that the original host struggled for years to attain—becoming a true legendary mage.”

The original Arian was too weak.

By later standards, he was merely a ninth-rank grand mage.

Half of the empire’s council chiefs had reached the ninth rank.

Compared to them, the original Arian was only slightly stronger.

This strongest mage in Eldoronto had long been stuck at the final bottleneck before becoming a legendary mage, unable to construct a legendary spell model in his mind.

Now, after transmigrating, Arian had easily accomplished what the original could not, achieving a qualitative breakthrough.

“It is not the original host’s fault. After all, in this ancient age, humans had only recently learned magic from the elves, a mere few hundred years ago.”

“Most later famous spells have yet to be invented. Only I remember them...”

Arian shook his head and left the room, walking through the palace’s splendid corridor.

“Your Majesty, was the recently announced edict truly your decision?”

“Your Majesty, do you really intend to establish schools in the lower realm, allowing surface commoners to access magic?”

Approaching was a striking blonde woman. Her chest badge, adorned with nine glittering stars, proclaimed her lofty position.

Helen, chief of the Transmutation School.

“Yes,” Arian answered calmly.

“Why?” Helen pressed anxiously. “You have never been this kind. Why would you now think of protecting those lowly surface commoners?”

Helen knew Arian’s past character well.

This master of necromancy was by no means a merciful ruler!

“Do you think I issued the new laws out of concern for the surface commoners?”

Arian suddenly smiled:

“Do you believe I care whether those peasants below have enough food and clothing?”

“The surface villages number far more than this floating city’s population. Among them lie outstanding talents.”

“To ignore such a vast resource pool is like sitting atop a mountain of gold without knowing it. Foolish beyond measure!”

“We must think further ahead...”

“But many voices oppose this,” Helen whispered.

“Ignore them,” Arian’s tone remained steady.

Helen left in a huff.

...

Leaving the palace, Helen returned to her private residence.

Someone awaited her there.

Closing the door, Helen spoke into the empty air at the foot of the bed:

“As you said, Gut, Arian seems determined to change Eldoronto’s traditions.”

“In a decade or so, those surface commoners will stand as equals to us.”

A figure gradually took shape in the air.

It was Gut, chief of the Conjuration School.

“He will not succeed.”

Gut shrugged, showing none of the reverence he had displayed before Arian—his eyes flickered with a hint of murderous intent.

“Arian is perhaps a bit too arrogant.”

“In Eldoronto, the finest mages become chiefs, and the finest chiefs become monarchs.”

“Arian became our leader because we, the top mages, all acknowledge he is the best among us, worthy to lead.”

“Indeed, Arian and his loyal subordinate General Sol command Eldoronto’s military might. Unlike us scholars, those battle mages care little for tradition and only follow General Sol’s and His Majesty’s orders.”

“But personally, Arian is not much stronger than I, than you, or the other chiefs, is he?”

Gut trailed off.

“Gut, are you plotting rebellion?” Helen raised her eyebrows, catching the subtext in Gut’s words.

“You said that word first,” Gut smiled.