In his studies, Richard found he excelled particularly in everything related to numbers, diagrams, and precise control. Complex formulas seemed almost intuitively straightforward to him. However, the more he learned, the more he felt overwhelmed by the vast mysteries of the magical world, highlighting his own ignorance.

  Richard was extremely focused and could endure solitude. Now, his life revolved solely around magic, with nothing else occupying his time.

  Winter arrived before he knew it. Richard was completely unaware when the first snow began to drift down. Though the weather outside had turned frigid, the climate within Deepblue remained as warm as spring. After months living continuously inside Deepblue, he had even grown accustomed to the environment filled everywhere with the soft glow of magical lights.

  Late one night, a shining meteor streaked through the snowy mist, descending from afar to land atop Deepblue's highest platform. Three magisters, leading as many as twenty other mages, were already waiting respectfully, utterly disregarding the cold wind and falling snow.

  The fiery light dissipated with a soft pop, revealing Helen Su's petite figure. Immediately, two young female mages draped a fur cloak over her shoulders. Another four mages unrolled a crimson carpet before her feet. The carpet constantly unfurled ahead of her, while mages behind rolled it up after she passed. Along the entire long path from the landing platform to the residential area, Helen’s feet never actually touched the ground.

  The three magisters hurried to flank Helen, softly and rapidly reporting on Deepblue's affairs during her absence. Helen listened lazily, seemingly with little interest. However, when the third magister reported on teaching and student progress, her eyes suddenly lit up. “You mean that little Richard shows talent in magic formations?”

  Caught under her bright gaze, the magister, whose beard was already nearly white, tensed up, immediately breaking into a cold sweat. High-level mages knew that being scrutinized by a legendary mage was an unpleasant sensation, akin to a frog being eyed by a snake. The disparity in mental strength subjected lower-level mages to immense pressure, almost like being struck by Dragon's Might. He hadn't expected Helen to pay attention to such a minor matter. Fortunately, he was well-prepared and quickly produced two sketches of magic formations drawn by Richard, handing them to Helen.

  Helen’s eyes locked onto the sketches, instantly captivated. Her steps unknowingly slowed, and finally, she stopped altogether, examining the two drafts over and over.

  Cold sweat continued to bead uncontrollably on the magister beside her. In his eyes, these sketches were utterly ordinary, merely two basic introductory magic formations in standard format, devoid of any innovation. In truth, such entry-level formations were simple in structure, clear in principle, and limited in function; there was neither room nor necessity for innovation or improvement. Richard had drawn the standard versions taught in class. The only reason he had singled this out for Helen was because she had previously shown immense interest in Richard, even spending the entire duration of his tests in the monitoring room.

  That was several hours! Several hours of prime plane time!

  The preciousness of a legendary mage’s time needed no elaboration. Thus, he had gauged the extent of Helen's regard for Richard and had been monitoring him closely ever since. Now that Richard had made a tiny bit of progress, he reported it as something significant. Essentially, the magister was merely trying to curry Helen's favor—after all, "Helen Su's Joy" was always the most crucial item on his monthly income statement.

  In reality, it truly was just a tiny bit of progress. Richard's drawings contained no errors, but that counted for little. Any well-trained mage rarely made mistakes when drawing standard magic formations. What was somewhat remarkable was that Richard, on his first attempt at practicing these drawings, had made no mistakes at all. Still, among those capable of becoming grand magisters, who wasn't a figure of astounding talent? In this grand magister’s eyes, such a minor achievement wasn't worth mentioning. Of course, the absolute error between the two formations and the standard versions was astonishingly small, almost unbelievably so. But drawing magic formations wasn't like machining alchemical components; precision only needed to meet the standard. Anything higher was meaningless. If an error of 1 millimeter didn't affect the formation's efficacy, why strive for under 10 micrometers?

  If Richard had shown some innovation on these two basic formations, then he would have taken notice. But independently innovating magic formations was beyond the capability of any mage below Level Ten.

  However, Helen had studied them for so long. Even if this grand magister were a complete idiot, he would know these sketches weren't so simple. Yet, he truly couldn't discern what was special about them.

  "Truly excellent!" Helen exclaimed joyously, reaching out to pat the magister's shoulder. But she was small, and the magister very tall, making it awkward for her. The magister instantly, discreetly bent down, allowing her to pat him easily.

  Slap! Helen’s delicate little hand struck the magister’s shoulder heavily. He immediately felt as if struck by a dragon's claw and was irresistibly knocked to the ground!

  Helen gasped, "Ah!" With a wave of her hand, a magical water shield enveloped the magister, floating him up from the ground. "I got too excited just now, hit a bit hard."

  "Not hard, not hard at all, just right!" The magister’s old face bloomed into a smile like a flower battered by wind and rain.

  Waving the two sketches in her hand, Helen became cheerful again. "I didn't expect you'd be able to see how extraordinary these sketches are. Hahaha! Haven't seen you for a while, and you've gotten smarter! What have you been eating lately?"

  "It is all thanks to your guidance," the magister replied with humble deference, smiling as if declining credit, giving no hint that he had absolutely no idea what was so special about the sketches. Having reached his current position, he was no simple character. But the magister's heart inevitably beat a little faster; Helen's unrestrained, brazen laughter was a sign. It meant that on this month's ledger, under the entry "Helen Su's Joy," there would be a conspicuous number.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Like a little girl eager to share, Helen couldn’t suppress her excitement. She showed the sketches to the three grand magisters beside her, saying, "Look, these two sketches are practically identical to the standard versions!" She specifically emphasized the word identical. As the three magisters looked at the sketches again, expressions of realization finally dawned on their faces.

  "The deviation between these two sketches and the standard versions is within 0.01 centimeters, and the error is incredibly consistent. Such precision and stability are only achievable by grand mages above Level Ten who have undergone long-term, rigorous training. And Richard? He's just a Level One mage apprentice," Helen continued.

  One magister instantly understood. "This is a rarely seen talent! And he also has excellent mental strength…"

  Another magister quickly added, "His talents are excellent across the board, with no clear weaknesses…"

  The third, the one who had handed Helen the sketches, drew a sharp breath and said in a tone of disbelief, "Have we found a future Rune Graft Master?!"

  "Exactly!" Helen beamed.

  As humanity's ultimate military power, Rune Knights were a general term encompassing various specializations like archers, shieldbearers, armor-breakers, and even magic-attack mages. Their essential trait was carrying at least three rune constructs. A moderate rune construct could potentially increase a melee fighter’s combat effectiveness by thirty percent. Thus, Level Thirteen or Fourteen Rune Knights could rival the combat power of warriors around Level Seventeen, and their impact on the battlefield was even greater. The professional system was a pyramid; the higher the rank, the rarer the individuals. The number of Level Eighteen combat professionals was extremely limited; they were powerhouses sought after by all factions, none of whom would join an army as cannon fodder. Yet, Rune Knights, whose individual combat strength was not much inferior to these Saint-level experts, could charge and fight in formation on the battlefield, naturally becoming a force capable of turning the tide.

  Ever since Rune Knights appeared on the battlefield, every renowned military commander shared the same maxim: Only Rune Knights can counter Rune Knights.

  The ones who created this miracle were the Rune Grafts.

  Saint-level experts were few, but high-level warriors around Level Thirteen or Fourteen, if not innumerable, were certainly plentiful. Yet, the total number of Rune Knights in the Sacred Alliance Empire consistently hovered around a thousand, never exceeding three thousand even at its glorious peak. The bottleneck lay firmly in the number of Rune Grafts.

  If Rune Knights were a strategic force and legendary mages a strategic deterrent, then Rune Grafts were the builders of strategic advantage. However, the requirements to become a Rune Graft were extremely demanding, necessitating extraordinary magical aptitude, superb control and creativity, and immense patience. Many Rune Knights had limited surface area capable of bearing runes. Rune Grafts often needed to condense large magic formations into palm-sized areas, then tattoo them onto specialized components or directly onto the Rune Knight's body. The works of high-level Rune Grafts were already so intricate and detailed that ordinary people could barely discern them with the naked eye. Crafting those powerful, large-scale constructs often took months.

  To date, the Sacred Alliance Empire, one of the three major human empires, possessed barely ten Rune Grafts in total, including even the most junior ones. Each was fiercely competed for by the imperial family and major regional nobles. Even a single junior Rune Graft signified a small squad of Rune Knights a decade later. For any ruler, this was an irresistible temptation. The status of a high-level Rune Graft was scarcely lower than that of a legendary mage.

  And through these two sketches, Richard had precisely demonstrated the most crucial talent of a Rune Graft: meticulous precision.

  Holding the two sketches, Helen found them increasingly pleasing the more she looked, her laughter growing louder and more unrestrained. The bold, bright sound traveled further and further, not only filling the entire top floor of the magic tower but also showing signs of permeating downwards.

  "This woman…"

  Though this thought might have crossed the minds of all three magisters, outwardly they uniformly laughed along with Helen, their joy appearing genuine and natural, as if the future Rune Graft Richard were their own beloved son.

  "I really can't help but laugh!" Helen suddenly exclaimed, then continued to roar with laughter.

  Helen had no desire for worldly power; Rune Knights held no attraction for her. The three magisters, having followed Helen for a long time, knew the reason for her exuberant laughter: she had finally become a Rune Graft's teacher. In her mind, this was equivalent to trampling all other Rune Grafts underfoot. Although Helen's previous students had all been magical geniuses, not a single Rune Graft had emerged among them, leaving her deeply resentful. That Rune Graft who had offended her back then had now become a Grand Rune Graft, a national treasure of the Sacred Tree Dynasty, one of the three major empires. Even as a legendary mage, Helen could do nothing to him; they could only despise each other from afar across vast distances. Thus, the grudge had festered to this day. Now, with Richard, Helen could finally fulfill her long-held wish. It remained uncertain, however, just how she would pour her overwhelming "joy" onto poor little Richard.

  This was pure wishful thinking, yet no one would be foolish enough to point it out, unless they no longer desired "Helen Su's Joy."

  The legendary mage finally managed to stop laughing. Her expression suddenly turned stern and extremely serious. "Starting today, fully support Richard’s development into a Rune Graft! Also, this matter must be kept confidential. Besides you all, I don't want anyone else to know!"

  The three magisters, along with the other mages, all grumbled silently in their hearts. Helen's laughter had just permeated several floors of the magic tower, and it wouldn't be long before she couldn't contain her smugness and would broadcast the matter to the world. But for now, everyone loudly agreed, their faces solemn and earnest.

  It was the end of the month. At dusk, an exhausted Richard returned to his quarters. The young girl was already waiting at the door and, as usual, handed Richard his ledger badge. Richard, also as usual, didn't ask her name.

  On the alchemy workbench, Richard activated the badge and quickly scanned the ledger contents. As he had expected, with the gradual expansion of his magic studies, related expenses had risen sharply. Last month's income and expenses had balanced, but this month's expenditures already exceeded the monthly subsidy of thirty thousand, completely consuming the surplus saved from the first month. Next month, Richard would face a dilemma: either slow down his training pace or find a way to earn more money. Yet, apart from the fixed study subsidy, he had no idea how to make money. Richard was, after all, only ten years old and barely a Level One mage. Outside, Level One was considered an official mage, but within Deepblue, anyone below Level Three was called a magic apprentice.

  Just as Richard was worrying about balancing next month's budget, he suddenly noticed an additional line beneath his subsidy.

  It read "Helen Su's Joy," amount: 500,000 gold coins.

  The legendary mage's joy was indeed valuable! This was the sole coherent thought remaining in Richard's instantly blank mind.