Gravity Mage with Level-Up System

From MC’s Perspective:

A few hours later, the aircraft sliced through the skies, leaving one region behind and crossing into another. This place was a mystery to me. I knew little of it except for one thing: it was said to be home to a massive magic forest, an endless sea of enchanted trees. The only way to reach the inhabited lands beyond was to fly over it. Experience more content on empire

The dean of the academy, an old man with centuries of wisdom, had warned me about the Magic Forest. “It’s not the forest that will harm you from above,” he’d said, his voice gravelly with age, “but what lurks within. Cross it swiftly, and you’ll be safe. But if you try to explore it…” He had trailed off ominously, his eyes reflecting years of lost travelers.

Despite the warnings, I couldn’t help but feel a strange anticipation. The stories I’d heard about this forest were extraordinary. Ancient trees, monsters, and whispers of forgotten magic. Something inside me longed to see it with my own eyes.

As the hours rolled by, the aircraft’s soft hum was the only sound breaking the quiet. After what felt like an eternity, the horizon shifted. The thick, dark canopy of the Magic Forest finally loomed into view, stretching farther than I could see.

By now, the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and dark clouds shrouded the sky, turning the landscape below into a shadowy abyss. A chill ran down my spine.

The oppressive gloom that hung over the forest seemed almost alive, and I found myself more on edge than I wanted to admit. It wasn’t the thought of the forest monsters that unnerved me — no, I’d faced worse in the forbidden zones.

What worried me more was the possibility of running into a rogue wizard. The stories I’d heard about those encounters were far worse than any beast.

The aircraft soared over the dense forest, and I pressed my face against the window, trying to glimpse what lay beneath. Towering Shade Trees blanketed the ground, their branches thick and gnarled, casting shadows even in the darkening sky.

The ground was barely visible through the mass of twisted roots and sprawling foliage. It was as if the forest itself were a living thing, breathing beneath me. There was hardly a patch of bare land in sight.

Time seemed to slip by as I stared out at the seemingly endless sea of trees. An hour passed, maybe more. The Magic Forest stretched on and on, a labyrinth of nature and magic. I began to wonder if it had an end at all.

Suddenly, something stirred in the depths of the forest. My heart skipped a beat. In a blur, a dark shape shot up from the canopy, hurtling towards the aircraft at an alarming speed.

Swoosh!

It came so fast, my brain barely had time to register it. One moment, the sky was clear, and the next, a massive figure loomed before the aircraft. For a split second, panic gripped me — was it a monster or, worse, a rogue wizard?

My eyes locked onto the monster, and recognition hit me like a jolt of electricity.

“A Bat Monster,” I muttered under my breath, more surprised than afraid.

The beast was enormous, its dark wings spanning at least 10 feet. It was a shadow against the dim sky, its eyes gleaming with an unsettling intelligence. I quickly activated the system to scan it, the familiar interface lighting up my vision. Data flashed across the screen, and my gaze zeroed in on its power level: 6th order.

A wave of relief washed over me. It wasn’t as dangerous as I had feared. The Bat Monster was likely attracted by the aircraft’s lights, nothing more. I tightened my grip on the controls, guiding the aircraft smoothly to the side, avoiding the creature’s path.

With a quick surge of speed, I pushed the aircraft faster, leaving the Bat Monster behind. It chased us for a short distance, its wings flapping powerfully against the night sky, but soon gave up, retreating back to its territory deep within the Magic Forest.

I exhaled slowly, my heartbeat returning to normal. The forest, once again, stretched out beneath us, silent and foreboding.

…

A few hours earlier, outside the Yellow River Academy’s Men’s Dormitory:

Mike Curtis stood in front of the men’s dorm building, a figure that instantly commanded attention. His very presence sent ripples through the crowd of students passing by. He was infamous, notorious even, for rarely leaving the shadowed halls of the Taboo Hall.

Most of the students couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen him walk the campus grounds, let alone visit the dorms. It was an uncommon sight, and curiosity swirled in the air.

Whispers spread like wildfire among the students. “Mike Curtis? What’s he doing here?” they murmured, exchanging glances. The few who knew the full extent of the drama kept their silence, their expressions tense, while others, unfamiliar with the story, were left in confused anticipation. After all, why would a figure as enigmatic and distant as Mike Curtis make a public appearance like this?

His eyes scanned the dormitory entrance, sharp and purposeful, before he approached one of the students to inquire about Vincent Carey’s room number. But there was a problem: only dorm residents were allowed inside the building. It was an unspoken rule that outsiders, no matter their rank or status, had to remain outside the towering structure unless given special permission.

As Mike waited, the crowd steadily grew. Students from the Bloodline Hall, Elemental Hall, and even the prestigious Weapon Hall had gathered around, drawn by the spectacle.

Mike Curtis was a figure known for his solitary, aloof nature, so to see him mingling in public like this was shocking. The students, typically focused on their magical studies and rivalries, couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Speculation buzzed through the crowd. “Is he really here for Vincent Carey?” some whispered. Others shook their heads in disbelief. Both names carried weight at Yellow River Academy, but for different reasons.

Vincent Carey had gained a reputation that bordered on untouchable. In recent weeks, his prestige had skyrocketed. His growth, though veiled in mystery, was undeniable, and many had come to respect—or at least fear—his newfound power.

His name was one the students avoided, not out of fear of confrontation, but because they sensed something more significant lay beneath his rising status. Yet Mike Curtis, a Level-6 wizard, had become a rival that even Vincent couldn’t ignore.