The scarred, cratered sands of the Grand Arena told the story of the afternoon’s violence. But a squad of Academy proctors, their robes stained with sweat and soot, were currently working overtime. Channeling synchronized Earth magic, they flattened the craters, pulverized the formed glass, and restored the arena floor to a pristine, level surface. Behind them, arena staff scrambled to wheel out ten identical, reinforced alchemy workstations, arranging them in a perfect semicircle.

High above the frantic cleanup, Bruce Doyle stood center stage on his floating platform. He was dabbing at his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

“And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, concludes the Second Round of the Dueling Event!”

Bruce’s magically amplified voice boomed, though his usual boundless energy seemed just a fraction tighter than before.

“What a spectacular display of martial prowess! We’ve seen illusions shattered, armor cracked, and the undeniable Queen of the Arena defend her throne!”

The crowd roared their approval, still buzzing from Kaelen’s ruthless, environmental takedown of Dawn Moran the Deep Veil operative.

Bruce held up a hand, waiting for the cheers to die down. When he spoke again, his showman’s smile looked a bit forced.

“But we still have more events to follow! We now transition from the chaotic clash of steel to the delicate, dangerous art of the arcane sciences. It is time for the Second Round of the Alchemy and Potioneering Gauntlet!”

A polite wave of applause rippled through the Grand Arena except for the section where there were a lot of students from the minor College of Alchemy (Arcanum) who cheered

“However,”

Bruce continued, holding up a finger,

“Our proctors need a few minutes to ensure the environmental wards are stabilized before we bring out the volatile materials. Please use this short intermission to stretch your legs, visit the restrooms, or grab some refreshments.”

Bruce’s floating platform drifted slightly lower. He pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his breast pocket, staring at it with thinly veiled disdain. He cleared his throat, his professional tone flattening into a monotone drawl.

“Speaking of refreshments… this afternoon’s bloodshed is proudly sponsored by Grak’s Fire-Roasted Basilisk Skewers. Located near the southern gate.”

Bruce sighed into the amplification crystal.

“Grak says, and I quote, ‘It tastes like chicken, but angrier.’ Go grab three for the price of only two academy marks! Buy now or you will…reGrak it later.”

Bruce facepalmed after saying the last sentence.

As the crowd chuckled and began to file out toward the concourse, Cassian stood up to stretch, popping his neck with a loud crack.

“I am going to need something significantly stronger than a basilisk skewer to get through the next event of watching people boil water.”

He complained, adjusting the cuffs of his coat.

“Rina, Svane, do either of you want a terribly overpriced ale?”

“Only if you are paying with your suddenly useless, blacklisted academy marks.”

Rina shot back with a smirk, not looking away from her notebook. Svane gave a low, rumbling grunt that loosely translated to an enthusiastic ‘yes‘.

Cassian waved them off and headed for the food stall, complaining under his breath about the sheer injustices of the student economy.

Ray, however, stayed planted in his seat. The short break was the exact window he needed. With the chaotic distraction of Kaelen and Melodye’s fights finally over, he mentally reached out and pulled up the system logs he had swiped away earlier.

A cascade of blue text materialized in his vision.

[CUMULATIVE SKILL MASTERY THRESHOLD MET: 10+ CAPSTONES ACHIEVED]

[SYSTEM FEATURE UPGRADED: ‘THE UNDERSTUDY PROTOCOL to Lvl. 4’]

[The Understudy Protocol (Level 4)]

[Function: Allows the Host to impart a skill to four (4) designated, trusted individuals, referred to as the ‘Understudies’.]

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[EXISTING SUB-FUNCTION UPGRADED: ‘Resonant Link Communication from (Basic) to (Intermediate)’]

[Description: The established Resonance Link has been fortified, allowing for complex, sustained telepathic communication between the Host and designated Understudies.]

[NEW RANGE: 2,500 meters (2.5 kilometers)]

[CAPABILITIES: Transmission of fluid conversational thoughts, complex tactical instructions, and shared sensory imagery (mental maps/visualizations).]

[NEW SUB-FUNCTION UNLOCKED: ‘Theater of the Mind’ (Shared Tactical Replication Protocol)]

[Description: The Host can now use the ‘Resonant Link’ as the bridge to directly share the ‘Tactical Replication Protocol’, inviting the consciousness of a designated Understudy into the internal simulation suite.]

[CAPABILITIES: Allows Host and Understudies to engage in shared, zero-risk simulated combat, spar against holographic opponents, or practice group tactics within a localized mental construct. Muscle memory and tactical experience gained in the simulation will translate to the physical body upon waking.]

[REQUIREMENTS: Both Host and Understudy must be in a state of sleep or meditation. Both must be within the 2.5 kilometer range.]

[COST: Heavy cognitive strain and Aether cost on the Host. Prolonged hosting will result in severe mental fatigue and aether depletion upon waking.]

Ray’s eyes widened. A grin broke across his face.

Theater of the Mind.

He thought.

It was a monumental cheat code. He wouldn’t just be able to teach his party skills; he could pull his understudies into his own head to run hundreds of combat simulations while they slept or meditated. They could practice fighting elite opponents without ever shedding a drop of real blood.

Scholar: “Ah-ha! I knew it! The mathematical progression is absolutely undeniable!”

The Eccentric Scholar practically shouted in Ray’s mind, vibrating with vindicated joy.

Scholar: “To reach Level 2, we required two Capstones. Level 3 required three. And now, precisely upon reaching our tenth cumulative Capstone, Level 4 is achieved! The formula holds!”

Ray nodded slowly. It made perfect sense. But that brought up a lingering question.

Months ago, Ray had tried to ask the System what the specific requirements were to level up the Understudy Protocol, but he had been hit with a hard denial due to ‘Insufficient Access Level‘. But things had changed. Since his evolution from Grizzled Veteran to Grizzled Commander, his administrative privileges to the system had expanded.

Let’s test the new clearance.

Ray thought.

System, what are the exact requirements to upgrade the Understudy Protocol to Level 5?

Ray prompted mentally.

For a second, the system paused. Then, instead of a red denial prompt, the blue text flowed freely.

[ACCESS GRANTED: Host Level-2 Access Recognized.]

[To upgrade ‘The Understudy Protocol’ to Level 5, the Host requires 5 additional Capstone Skills to reach the next cumulative threshold (Total Required: 15).]

[Current Capstone Skills (11/15):]

[Grizzled Veteran / Commander: – Basic Weapon Proficiency, Tactical Assessment, Pain Suppression and Survival Instincts (Passive)]

[Scheming Courtier: Deception]

[Eccentric Scholar: Deductive Reasoning]

[Charismatic Conman: Performance (Acting within Acting)]

[Gritty Detective: Observation]

[Serene Cultivator: Aetheric Perception and Internal Circulation]

[Arcane Scribe: Precision Engraving]

Ray exhaled sharply. Eleven down. He only needed four more skills to hit 100% mastery to unlock the next level of the Understudy Protocol.

Scholar: “Oh, the elegance of it! The systemic symmetry! It is exactly as I theorized!”

The Scholar was ecstatic, his phantom chalk scribbling furiously across the phantom blackboard as his grand theory was finally proven correct by the system itself.

Ray dismissed the window. Only four more capstones. And sitting in the middle of a massive tournament filled with the greatest martial and magical prodigies of the generation was the absolute best place to farm them.

As the spectators began trickling back into their seats. The academy proctors have finished their restoration and setup for the next event in the arena.

Bruce leaned closer to his amplification crystal, his expression turning deadpan.

“Now, before we begin the next event, I have been authorized by the tournament committee to institute a new, highly official addendum to the Alchemy and Potioneering Gauntlet rules.”

Bruce paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the ten nervous remaining participants for the 2nd Round of the event as they went into their individual workstations in the arena.

“There will be absolutely no flash powder. There will be no unshielded, blinding detonations. And if there is another participant in this round whose name is…. Jeff. I am asking you, man to man, to disqualify yourself and exit the arena immediately.”

A ripple of genuine laughter washed over the stands, breaking the lingering tension of the duels. Down on the sands, the participants exchanged nervous, confused glances. Nobody moved to leave.

“Alright then, bring out the Enigma.”

Bruce sighed, clearly bracing for the worst.

From the northern side of the Grand Arena, a pair of heavy-set proctors wheeled out a massive, magically sealed crystal vat. It was positioned dead center of the workstations.

Inside the glass, a volatile, thick liquid was locked in a violent, rolling boil. It was mesmerizing, constantly shifting from a deep, bruised violet to a sickly, luminescent yellow. Every few seconds, tiny sparks of crimson lightning arced against the interior of the crystal, sending heavy curls of dark smoke up toward the arena’s open roof.

“Welcome to the Blind Taste!”

Bruce announced, recovering his flair.

“In the first round, we tested your ability to follow instructions. Now, we test your fundamental understanding of alchemical law! There are no recipes today, candidates. You have exactly two hours to use your senses, your magical sight, and your intellect to reverse-engineer the concoction inside the Enigma Vat, and brew an exact replica using the arena’s temporary supply.”

Bruce said as he pointed to the makeshift supply area in the arena.

The ‘supply‘ was practically a small forest of raw magical ingredients. Massive, tiered shelving units had been erected on the sand, overflowing with glowing fungal spores, dried monster cores, bundles of rare elemental herbs, and jars of viscous, unidentified fluids.

The ten remaining participants stared back and forth between the massive pantry and the violently shifting, sparking Enigma Vat in pure curiosity. A few were already heavily breathing from excitement, suddenly realizing about learning a new rare alchemical recipe.

“The Second Round starts… NOW!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep