Chapter 40: A Terrifying Surge! A Spectacular Display!

Name: Ian Prince

Class: Bloodline Sorcerer

Mana: Level 7 (Undergoing an Explosive Leap)

Skills:

[Insight of Wisdom] (Cannot be Upgraded)

[Potion Mastery (Lv.2): 23/200]

[Phantom Blade (Lv.1): 5/100]

[Curse of Fear (Lv.1): 18/100]

[Necrotic Control(Lv.1): 2/100]

[Runic Mastery (Lv.1): 14/100]

[Killing Curse(Lv.1): 7/100]

[Illumination Charm (Lv.2): 3/400]

…

The display was as straightforward and direct as always.

Besides the array of spells Ian had either learned through rigorous self-study or under the guidance of a mentor, there were two major changes on his status panel. The first, and most striking, was his mana level.

"My mana just jumped three whole levels in one go?!"

Ian's mind reeled at the sheer impossibility of it.

This was the kind of power spoken of only in myths.

The Golden Apple.

A legendary artifact mentioned in ancient Greek mythology, as well as in several old fairy tales. And now, he had irrefutable proof that its true power wasn't just a mere story—it had directly elevated his magical capabilities.

Seventh-Level Mana.

A staggering leap of three entire levels.

And this might not even be the limit.

"Undergoing Explosive Surge…"

That small notation on the panel suggested that the mana boost from the Golden Apple was still in progress. His power hadn't yet settled—it was still climbing.

How much further?

One more level?

Two?

There was no way to tell. But no matter the number, it was already an unimaginable advantage.

Most young sorcerers, after their initial magic awakening, never experience a sudden surge in their mana. Their power increases slowly with age—if at all.

There were no known artifacts or potions that could enhance a wizard's innate magical strength.

Not even the Philosopher's Stone, an item capable of bestowing immortality, could increase a wizard's mana reserves. A person's magical potential was something they were born with, an unchangeable fate determined from the start.

And yet, in this world where magical strength was a predetermined aspect of one's destiny…

The Golden Apple shattered that rule.

"This thing can even serve as the primary ingredient for a potion capable of defying death itself…"

Ian exhaled, his fingers tracing his jaw in contemplation.

No wonder the Golden Apple had vanished from history.

Even if Professor Mara hadn't destroyed the last known Golden Apple tree, someone else would have ensured that such a world-altering treasure never saw the light of day. Either it was driven to extinction, or…

It was being hoarded in secret.

Ian's thoughts drifted toward Pandero, the mysterious entity who had bestowed this miraculous fruit upon him.

"That guy gave me something truly extraordinary…"

Ian's lips curled into a thoughtful smile.

He owed Pandero.

Next time he returned to the Ethereal Realm, he'd have to bring a gift in return—something that might actually be of value to a being like him.

For now, though…

His fingers wrapped around his wand, resting beside his bed.

Even without casting anything, he could feel the difference.

The mana within him was denser, more potent, overflowing.

His grip tightened.

A spell would tell him exactly how much stronger he'd become.

"Fire..."

He had a sudden urge to test the extent of his newfound power.

Then he froze.

He was in a wooden house.

On a wooden bed.

And he highly doubted wizardkind had invented fireproof coatings for wooden furniture.

"That was close."

Ian let out a slow exhale, lowering his wand.

He felt different—sharper, clearer. It wasn't just the mana boost.

Insight of Wisdom.

A gift from the Golden Apple, just like his surge in mana.

Unlike his other abilities, this was the only one that could not be upgraded.

It didn't grant him supernatural intelligence, nor did it suddenly make him an all-knowing genius.

Instead, it refined his thoughts.

It made his logic smoother, his understanding sharper, his emotions stable.

A passive state of enhanced clarity—a constant, unwavering rationality.

Almost like a weaker version of Ravenclaw's Diadem.

Ian smirked.

For a sorcerer, such a state of mind was priceless.

A safer spell, then.

"Lumos Maxima."

The tip of his wand blazed with light.

But this was not the soft glow he was used to.

The illumination surged outward, flooding the entire wooden cabin in a cascade of dazzling brightness.

A radiant burst, so powerful it felt like daylight had invaded the night.

Far more powerful than before.

"I need to test something with actual fire."

Ian barely took the time to throw on a pair of sandals before bolting out of the cabin, wearing nothing but his shorts.

The night air was cool, but his blood was burning with excitement.

Under the starry sky, he raised his wand.

Pointed it at an empty field.

And whispered:

"Incendio."

A stream of fire burst forth.

It was stronger. Faster. Larger.

But still controlled.

Ian grinned.

"Not bad, but let's push it further."

This time, he forced more mana through the spell.

The fire swelled, twisting into a serpent-like inferno, roaring across the field.

The heatwave lashed against his skin, hot enough to make him stumble back.

Ian's heart pounded.

He could feel it.

The magic circuit governing the spell—it had a limit, a structural ceiling that restricted how much mana it could handle.

A normal spell could only channel so much power before it collapsed.

But what if he could expand that limit?

Ian's mind raced.

If he altered the circuit mid-cast—right at the moment when the spell stabilized—it might be possible to expand the mana flow without breaking the spell structure.

A dangerous theory.

But if it worked…

Ian took a deep breath.

Raised his wand one more time.

"Incendio Maxima!"

The spell formed—but just before completion, Ian pushed mana into a secondary circuit, forcing the spell to expand.

—WHOOSH!

The flames erupted—not like a burning snake this time, but a tidal wave of fire, roaring into the sky.

"Oh, sh—"

Ian's stomach dropped.

This was way too much.

The fire swelled out of control.

A searing inferno engulfed the clearing, licking at the wooden fence, nearby trees—

And the cabin.

"Damn it!"

Panic surged through Ian's chest. He hadn't expected this level of destruction.

His mind raced for solutions—should he summon corpses to carry water?

Just then—

"What a spectacular sight."

A deep, measured voice cut through the crackling flames.

Ian spun around.

An elderly man walked toward him, dressed in immaculate white robes, his face bathed in the flickering glow of the fire.

Eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Such creativity."

Raising his wand, the elder gave it a simple, effortless flick.

And then—

Like a switch had been flipped—

Everything stopped.

The heat.

The fire.

The destruction.

It was as if time itself had frozen.