When Alex woke up and with the fresh memories of the agony of dying by poison, he opened one of his notebooks and started writing down all the alchemy recipes he had memorized.
The dream had changed — which meant the last report he wrote down was the cause.
But this new dream was a treasure trove of information.
Luckily, he had some semblance of will inside the dreams and could simply stop paying attention whenever he wanted.
It was like having two souls in one body — he could feel all the emotions and sensations the alchemist in his dream experienced, and through them, he could judge what was useful and what wasn't. That way, he could choose what to see and hear. Like that moment when the old man, with furious anger, muttered about hoping no "dipshit" found his book.
So Alex decided to ignore anything that seemed too important or might change the dream. Instead, he memorized every alchemy recipe and plant codex he could. Those were the most valuable things he could get right now — enough to let him become a full-fledged alchemist on his own.
He even wrote down the recipe for the Legendary Potion — Elixir.
He didn't even know how much a legendary recipe would sell for, but he wasn't dumb enough to tell anyone about it.
Once he finished writing all the recipes he could remember, he mentally made a list of things to record before paying attention again to the actions and words of the man and his master. First, the recipes up to the advanced level, then the plant codex, then the rest of the recipes, then the map, and finally, everything else.
'Saint's Tear… 1462?'
"Hm! — 1462… that's only five years from now!" Alex suddenly remembered a piece of information.
'Also, Sylvana Morningstar… It seems that whatever happens in a thousand years will be dangerous enough for the alchemist to try healing her. But he's assassinated the moment he tries — by his own student. So I'll probably have to do it myself.'
At that moment, he linked that thought with his first dream.
'Was my first dream the end of the conflict? Knowing what I do now about legendary beings, I doubt anyone could see that many of them together unless it was after this dream.'
He added a small note under his first dream entry:
— Story's end? —
Then, returning to his current dream, Alex continued analyzing.
He remembered that the alchemist — besides the Saint's Tear — had every other Ancient plant stored in a secret stash, hidden in a cave connecting this continent with Aurethia.
'Still, I'm only an apprentice mage. I shouldn't try anything reckless. For now, I'll go to the academy and try to reach Tier 2 before attempting any of that. The only thing I need to get is the Saint's Tear before 1462.'
After sorting his thoughts, Alex decided to carry on as normal.
He knew that writing down everything useful from this dream would take a long time. He had barely scratched the surface of beginner potions before having to stop.
Once he settled his thoughts, Alex got up from bed and went to shower.
Afterward, he walked to the room next door and woke up Marc.
They went down to the cantina at the inn, had breakfast, and after paying, left toward the academy.
Today was the entrance test — a two-step procedure consisting of a written exam and a practical one.
When they reached Lyssan's Academy of Magic, they joined the line to wait.
"Well, gawd damn, there are a lot of people," Marc said.
"Well, it's the only magic academy in the city, so that was guaranteed," Alex replied, agreeing with Marc's observation.
"Look! There's even a dude with blue boots and orange pants — and he's bare-chested! Like, what's going on with him?" Marc exclaimed, staring at the crowd of bizarrely dressed people.
"Haha, well, you know, he's probably going to the martial arts division, so you'll likely meet him." Alex was amused by the comment.
He turned his head and, across the street, saw two boys and a girl walking. One boy and the girl had ginger hair, while the other boy had black hair and round glasses.
'Hmm… he seems to have a scar above his eyebrow…'
Alex's thoughts were cut short by Marc patting his shoulder.
"Come on, dude, come back to me — the line's moving." Marc had been patting Alex for the last three minutes straight and was starting to get rough with it.
"Okay, okay, stop! Man, one can't even think in peace nowadays."
"Save thinking for when the test begins," Marc teased.
As they moved along, they slowly got closer to the entrance.
After three hours of waiting, they finally reached the front.
"Hello, who's signing in?" asked the man handling registrations. His voice was flat, mechanical, like he'd done this a thousand times already.
"We'll both sign in," Alex replied.
"Okay, then you both need to pay a deposit of 200 gold each. It'll be discounted from your tuition if you pass, otherwise, you'll get half back." The man explained in the same monotonous tone.
"Okay…" Marc said, glancing at Alex.
Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch from his pocketwatch chain. From it, he withdrew 400 gold coins, leaving the pouch half-empty.
"Thank you. I just need your IDs, then you'll sign the papers and head in," the man said.
And so they did. After finishing the registration, a staff member directed them to their classroom and told them their seat numbers.
Alex held a slip with the number 386, while Marc's was 387.
As they found their designated seats, they had to wait until all 500 chairs were filled — or until no one new signed up for thirty minutes.
Once the seats were full, the door shut, and from beside the blackboard walked a woman in her forties, dressed in an elegant black gown.
She began speaking, her voice commanding.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. You'll now receive your test. There are ten versions of the exam, so cheating will be difficult. If we catch you cheating, you'll be expelled from the academy, and your ID will be banned from retaking the test for five years."
"The test has one hundred questions. It's multiple-choice. You get one point per correct answer, but for every wrong one, you lose a point. You need at least sixty correct answers to pass, and you can only afford to miss twenty before you fail automatically."
As she explained, ten proctors moved through the rows, handing out papers. Each carried ten different versions, shuffled randomly.
When everyone had their papers, the woman spoke one last time.
"Depending on your score, you'll be placed into a corresponding class. You have three hours. Good luck. Let the time begin!"
Then she fell silent, standing still like a hawk — eyes scanning for cheaters.
Alex took his test, exhaled slowly, and began.