010 The Age of Magic and the Mage

A few uneventful days passed.

During the day, Duan Qing idled at home. Before deciding to play games, he had once done ghostwriting for others on a certain media platform. Drawing on past experience and random guesses, he had written some incoherent reviews that stirred public opinion, while earning a modest living. Along with previous work assisting a chef and guarding as a security watchman, combined with his usual frugality, he had managed to save a considerable nest egg for his use.

But that woman never became his wife, so now he had the capital to splurge.

Lying in the game pod, browsing various platforms, watching videos, dabbling in chat groups or just observing, or sometimes going out for a casual stroll to clear his mind and ponder the tragedy called “breakup,” he reflected on the life he wished for. After all, he had been so busy with this corner of the world for years that he rarely took the time to really see his surroundings. This period of relaxation allowed him to rediscover the appearance of his life’s environment. For instance, the steamed buns at a storefront down the street were quite delicious; behind his residential complex was a plaza where many people exercised at night; about three miles from his rented residence lay a small river, though its water was murky and its cleanup history unknown; and a fast-food shop he often passed during busier times seemed to have closed recently due to an accident...

Though technology in this era was extraordinarily advanced, everyday necessities still existed. After all, many people still enjoyed shopping, and even more loved being foodies themselves. Compared to these groups, gamers were fewer, but the booming virtual game industry still fueled everyone’s enthusiasm. At least, Duan Qing never forgot his passion for that world.

Yet, when he walked down the street watching the diverse crowd pass by—the sleek hovercars driven by stylish ladies in sunglasses; young mothers holding children’s hands, pointing around with husbands nearby, looking like perfect families; hurried office workers on phone calls; and elderly people with backs bent and hands behind them strolling through gardens—each time he saw these scenes, he felt himself detach from the virtual game world and truly sense the reality of life.

Then came the loneliness, then the sorrow.

“Perhaps this ordinary life is all I’m destined to live…” Though he had strived hard in recent years, wanting to build a simple family, marry, have children, and draw a clear line from his past self to mark a new future, the past three years of aimless struggle and his ex-girlfriend’s cold, pragmatic abandonment left him feeling somewhat isolated from the real world.

Thanks to those experiences, Duan Qing hadn’t given up seeking a foothold in life, though he remained uncertain about his future.

Fortunately, compared to the reflections from his recent leisure, Duan Qing gained more from his adventures in Free World.

In truth, the few trials he undertook at dusk on the first day had already earned him a level-up. The wolves he fought were placed there deliberately by Ironheart, and their level was higher than those wild rabbits at the village gate meant for beginners, so the experience was naturally greater.

Ironheart had once proudly said that the first ten or so levels were easier to train because they required less experience. But beyond that, experience requirements grew geometrically, making it an excellent time for players to stabilize their strength and venture out to explore.

Simply put, when you can’t level up anymore, you look for other things to do.

For a level-six player to discuss matters related to levels in the teens or beyond, or to know so much about this world, naturally Duan Qing had doubts. He cautiously inquired, only to receive an unexpected answer.

“Ha ha, because I’ve played before.”

He had expected a reply like “I researched a lot” or “I’ve read many guides,” or even “I’m a genius,” but instead, the explanation was surprisingly reasonable and ordinary: Ironheart was an experienced player.

Many games, especially online ones, always have such players. For various reasons—poor performance previously, boredom with a class, wanting to try a new role, a new version making a class powerful—they would discard their old characters and start anew with a fresh one, quickly rising again using their expertise.

Of course, a more likely reason was that they had failed to progress and had to start over… Fortunately, Ironheart belonged to the former category.

“Though I’m no expert, in my previous stint I was among the top tier in levels. But I played the dual-sword style—wielding two swords was exhilarating but never felt quite right for me…”

Ironheart scratched the back of his head sheepishly as he answered, “If I kept going down that path, I’d probably regret it later, so…” He made a slicing gesture at his neck and said with a ‘click’ sound, “I started over.”

Seeing Duan Qing’s admiring gaze, Ironheart seemed even more embarrassed and quickly struck a pose, “After all, the greatsword is a man’s true romance, ha ha ha…”

Truly a simple-minded guy… Duan Qing’s eyelids drooped.

---

In recent days, Duan Qing diligently fought monsters to level up, gaining a few levels casually, and also learned to bring monster corpses to the village to exchange for survival supplies and build connections. For example, Aunt Fema at the village entrance once gave him a few water bags; Uncle Wushe, who lived down the street from the blacksmith, laughed heartily as he traded some flatbreads to Duan Qing and excitedly invited him to visit his shop more often; the general store in the central plaza, seeing Duan Qing’s meager state, handed him some cloth bags for carrying items—though the owner’s shifty expression suggested nothing valuable was forthcoming… And then there was the blacksmith, the villager with whom Duan Qing had the strangest relationship.

Whenever Duan Qing visited, the blacksmith would drop his usual friendly demeanor and sit expressionless, quietly sipping water. He never chased Duan Qing away and sometimes even chatted about village life, the continent’s political situation, or shared combat insights—though this was more because Duan Qing steered the conversation that way than any desire to take on an apprentice.

Whenever Duan Qing tried to broach the blacksmith’s past, he’d shut up and throw Duan Qing out.

Still, there were valuable gains. Most notably, Duan Qing gave the wolf corpses he hunted over the past days to a hunter, who in return gave him a hunting knife.

Yes, with Duan Qing’s current skill in the game, lone wolves on the northern grasslands were easy prey, and the weapon Ironheart had given him was far superior to this hunting knife.

[Hunting Knife (Common)]

[Weapon Power: Weak]

[A small knife for hunting, capable of cutting, slicing, slashing, chopping, and stabbing. Can be used for combat if you don’t mind its short length.]

As the weapon description stated, the knife was very short—only about ten centimeters long—but its sharpness pleased Duan Qing. The system rated its power equal to the crude short sword he carried, indicating comparable attack strength. Still, he kept it at his waist and never used it.

Not everything went smoothly, however. Duan Qing was troubled in another area: attribute points.

From his brief exchanges with Ironheart, Duan Qing could roughly guess that many playstyles or schools existed in this game.

Many times, he opened the character attribute panel, observing the four main attributes and occasionally the short bars for health and stamina, pondering their secrets.

Now at level six, he had five points to allocate but hadn’t assigned any because he hadn’t yet decided on his future role.

The game didn’t offer fixed professions like warrior, mage, priest, archer, fighter, or rogue. Yet distinctions did exist—not only through player categories but also within Free World’s organizations, divided into the House of Warriors and the Mage Council.

The names alone indicated their spheres of influence.

After all, combat professions existed on this continent and in great numbers. Compared to typical sword-and-sorcery worlds, this one featured nearly all kinds of cold weapons and, crucially, the much-coveted realm of magic.

When Free World first opened, many players were thrilled to see intelligence and spirit attributes, signaling the presence of magical classes. The thought of casting dazzling and wondrous spells, imagining enemies vanishing beneath magical onslaughts, excited all those who loved playing mages.

But after a few months, mage players became scarce—this was information Ironheart, as a veteran player, shared with Duan Qing. The reason was simple: mages were weak.

As for why mages were disadvantaged, beyond class factors, the continent’s historical backdrop played a significant role.

According to the lore, long ago this world experienced an era of flourishing magic. Magic arts were highly advanced, and magic technology profoundly developed. Nearly every field’s development depended on magical energy. The continent’s most powerful forces were led by the strongest mages. Society’s status hierarchy was based largely on magical skill… It was a magical dominion era, a hellish time for those “lowborn” without magical talent.

Of course, the weak “lowborn” lacked the power to overthrow that era; its downfall was brought about by its own excesses.

The decline of the magical era is a subject scholars could study for lifetimes, for there is much to contemplate. To summarize, the prevailing theory is that overuse of magical elements caused elemental balance to collapse.

A classic case of overexploitation—this was the first thought that crossed Duan Qing’s mind when reading the records.

Perhaps due to the excessive advancement of magic technology or careless magic utilization, after the magical era, elemental abundance dwindled. Powerful spells lost their elemental support, becoming difficult to use. Many legendary spells were lost. Magical artifacts, crafts, and even the magnificent buildings and facilities of the magical empire vanished into the tides of time.

If you asked the continent’s most profound historians, they would say the main cause was massive wars at the end of the magical era and the reckless use of strategic magic, which inflicted irreversible damage to elemental balance.

Archaeologists support these conclusions with evidence: ruins and remnants of magic wars scattered worldwide, still being uncovered; the loss of mature magical systems, with current spell levels not reaching a tenth of that era’s; and the emergence of magical creatures, believed by many scholars to be the fallout of those catastrophic wars.

In short, it was a great epoch of archmages, and its legacy has left the continent with extremely scarce magical elements. Thus, becoming an invincible mage today is nearly impossible.

Yet the mage community endures.

Among the current indigenous powers, including empires and principalities, many magic users still fight. Some strong mages have banded together to inherit and promote magical knowledge, conduct research and experiments to prevent magic’s decline, forming guild-like organizations to share information, support each other, and uphold the mage community’s authority and interests. This largest alliance, established centuries ago, is the Mage Council.

Inspired by the Mage Council’s founding, the House of Warriors also emerged—a non-official organization devoted to researching cold weapon arts and martial masters excelling in unarmed combat. They have all registered with the House of Warriors to protect and develop melee professions. Both alliances have grown to assist nations and civilians alike, gaining acceptance and gradually forming the closest thing to a professional system on the continent.

Later, these elements began to be studied by the game’s players.

Though Duan Qing was somewhat interested in this history, as a veteran player, he cared more about practical matters—like whether the mage path had a future. Early on, Ironheart gave his blunt opinion.

“Mages… are weak.”

Ironheart spoke candidly, as if unconcerned about his forthcoming disparagement.

“From what I’ve seen, their attack power is average, they need chanting and gestures to cast, learn very few skills, can’t pull off flashy combos, and worse…”

“They’re too fragile!”

“Not just fragile in the literal sense—since this game currently offers no real way to boost health, everyone dies in two hits anyway—but mages run slow, react slowly, have no survival skills, and can’t handle attacks well. I’ve seen mages get wiped out instantly by things like ADD or aggro shifting. They’re totally unfit for this ruthless world…”

“Of course, maybe some pro players have strong mages, but I haven’t seen any. So you want to play a mage? Don’t be foolish, kid… You really want to? Fine, your conflicted expression gives you away. Hand me back that short sword. If you get frustrated and start over, that sword won’t have been wasted… Wait, why would you need a melee weapon as a mage? Just give it back—I’ll keep it as a souvenir…”

Recalling that scene, Duan Qing frowned, feeling the helplessness of enduring a nagging lecture.

Yet for a self-proclaimed veteran, the mage profession still held appeal. As the former pro player Wheatgold once said, soaring through the skies is every virtual player’s dream.

“Mages…” Now Duan Qing, like those early magic enthusiasts at the game’s launch, looked at the intelligence and spirit attributes and the little ‘+’ icons next to them with undisguised curiosity.

“...Should I give it a try?”