That long conversation had been pretty exhausting for Lith, adding new weight to his burden. Not for the information he acquired, all in all he felt his opportunity were still pretty good with or without an academy.

The only adjustment to his plans was that after joining the Mage Association as a de facto outer circle member, a rogue magician, he would need to rack up merits as soon as he could, to get himself an apprenticeship with a good Forgemaster.

Normal merits would do him no good, he needed those he could earn as a magico, serving the Mage Association as best as he could.

The only real problem with his current situation would be rotting for yet four more years, like the proverbial frog in the well.

The reason why Lith felt so down, was that he had finally realized how much his friends had invested in him, not only in terms of money, but also time, passion and hopes.

It wasn’t the failure bothering him, but the fact that with his brash and uncaring attitude, he had hurt their feeling, treating the whole thing as a joke. Lith had to admit that in their shoes, he would feel like having casted pearls to a swine for years.

Sure, Count Lark wasn’t as judgmental as him, but Lith could see how deeply he cared, and how wounded he was after the last rebuke.