Supreme Mage System: I grow Infinitely Stronger

A vast, boundless ocean stretched endlessly in every direction, its opaque waters shimmering with the restless dance of waves. Above this infinite, solitary expanse lies the remarkable pinnacle of human civilization: an intricate network of enormous, condensed clouds. These clouds, both breathtaking and surreal, are vast and sturdy enough to support an entire society. On these floating marvels, towering skyscrapers, bustling schools, prestigious universities, cozy homes, and countless other wonders are meticulously arranged, creating a harmonious landscape suspended in the sky. Among them, the most striking feature is a majestic triangular castle, encircled by elegantly curved alloy, reigning at the heart of this extraordinary cloudscape.

Equally captivating are the cone-shaped metallic castles and the small wooden ships, seemingly defying gravity as they float and glide across the sky. These wonders astonish anyone who beholds them.

These immobile yet floating clouds, known as "Cloud State," are powered not by science, but by the enigmatic force of magic. To anyone who gazes upon this awe-inspiring civilization, it is unmistakably evident that such a spectacle could only be the result of magic's boundless ingenuity.

Humans venture into the vast ocean to gather a wide array of precious resources hidden beneath the waves, vital for sustaining the elevated cloud states they call home.

However, this task is fraught with peril. The waters are not only lethally poisonous but also teeming with fearsome sea beasts that pose constant threats.

To survive the treacherous depths, a special kind of magical mask is essential. Those who dare to descend into this hazardous realm are known as "Divers." These Divers are no ordinary adventurers—they are skilled mages who harness their magical abilities to endure the ocean's dangers.

Not all mages are willing to take on such a dangerous role. Those who remain on the surface, content with their magic's less perilous applications, are simply called mages. Thus, while every Diver is a mage, not every mage can claim the title of Diver.

High above the bustling cityscape, within the largest glassy skyscraper, stood the government's imposing office. Inside, seated behind a polished wooden desk, was a man no older than forty. His sharp gaze rested on a man as he leaned forward, his chin balanced thoughtfully on his right wrist.

"How much do you want?"

He asked with a stern expression, his tone unwavering.

The man he addressed appeared enigmatic, his presence shrouded in mystery. He wore a white joker mask etched with a sorrowful expression and an unsettling, emotionless smile. With his face fully concealed, it was impossible to discern his age or identity.

The masked man sighed before responding, his voice steady yet firm:

"200,000 Fins will suffice."

[Note: Fins is a currency system of this fictional world.]

The sheer audacity of the demand made the government official scowl. His voice dripped with ridicule as he replied:

"200,000 Fins? You must be joking. Be reasonable! Our treasury is already stretched thin; we can't possibly hand over such an exorbitant amount."

The masked hero chuckled softly, slipping his hands into the deep pockets of his long white coat. In a calm but resolute tone, he said:

"Listen, I'm not here to offer charity. You pay me, and I'll do the job you so desperately need done."

He took a deliberate step forward, his voice sharp as he continued:

"Let me make one thing clear—I am among the 'Chosen,' blessed with divine power. That makes me superior to any mere mortal. It's a fact, not arrogance. So, either pay up, or I walk away. But don't forget this: I'm the only one capable of handling the task. Fighting those sea beasts is child's play for someone like me."

Despite the hero's arrogance, the official knew he wasn't bluffing. The man's reputation and prowess were undeniable. Reluctantly, the official gazed at him with defeated eyes before heaving a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he said. "You'll get the money."

***

A teenage boy with long, sharp, jet-black hair that framed his face like an artist's brushstrokes strolled down a pedestrian-only path. His crisp white uniform stood out starkly against the muted grays of the cloudy day, the faint breeze teasing the edges of his shirt.

He tilted his head back, his gaze resting on the vast, unbroken expanse of sky, its clarity mocking the gloom in his bored, amethyst-hued eyes. With a languid motion, he brought a straw to his lips and sipped from a juice packet.

'Another boring, ordinary day. I wish something out of ordinary would happen in my life, just once.' He thought.

His steps slowed as he dropped his gaze forward. Spotting a trash can, he crumpled the now-empty juice packet in his hand with a casual squeeze, tossing it into the bin with practiced ease.

'If only I had powers like Lightning-Clown and the other Chosens. But that's just wishful thinking. After all, only the chosen ones get to wield such Incredible power.'

Ingrit, a boy born in a scale slightly below middle class, was born with weak magic power unlike others.

Usually, once a mage take in magic potions, their magical power increases. But even so, there is a limit to how much a mage can grow stronger.

A mage's magical power is divided into three gates. By breaking these gates a mage can reach the peak of their power. To break to the gates drinking magical potions are a must.

Once they successfully break all three of their gates, they hit their limit and won't be able to grow stronger after that point.

Ingrit's situation, however, was markedly different. Born into a poor family, he couldn't afford the luxury of expensive magical potions. Every coin he earned as a diver was quickly consumed by the relentless demands of supporting both himself and his family's daily survival.

Anyway, Ingrit took a deep breath and exhaled it, then started walking towards his one and only destination- the Superior Magic Academy. Even though his mother was strongly against him being a diver, Ingrit still insisted on becoming one.

Because since his father was missing, the duty of supporting his family fell on Ingrit. And the quickest way to make enough money to support his family and academic needs would be by becoming a diver.

Divers makes more money than Mages. This was precisely why he took the risk and became a diver even though he was weak. He was saving up some money so that he can buy a potion get stronger. After one or two more dive Ingrit would be able to buy a potion.

Anyway, upon reaching the Academy of Magic, Ingrit passed through the towering golden gates, their gleaming surface an impressive testament to the academy's grandeur. He stepped onto the sprawling green yard that stretched across the academy grounds, encased on three sides by the massive silver-painted concrete buildings. The structures seemed to loom endlessly, their size reflecting the academy's reputation. The yard buzzed with activity, mages and divers clustered together in groups, engaged in lively conversations.

But Ingrit wasn't one for idle gossip. Unlike the others, he valued his time too much to waste it on pointless chatter. Without hesitation, he made his way through the crowd, heading straight to the main hall, as he always did.

Today was no exception. After entering the academy, he navigated the bustling hallway, packed with students, and joined a long, winding line leading to the mission board. Though still a first-year student, Ingrit was eligible to take on underwater missions, thanks to a recent law passed by the Magic Association. This new regulation allowed divers from the first to third years to participate in missions, provided they completed their initial six months of training. For Ingrit, that milestone had already passed, and he was ready to prove himself.

"Hey, look. It's that boy."

"What's his name again?"

"Ingrit."

"Oh, right. The weakling."

The snide comments came from a corner of the room, loud enough for Ingrit to hear.

"Ha! So the weakling's still alive. I thought he'd be the first to die out there."

He clenched his teeth in frustration but kept his face expressionless. By now, he was accustomed to the ridicule and insults from his peers. He simply ignored them, letting their words roll off his back. Still, a part of him burned with a quiet resolve—a determination to one day silence their mockery. He dreamed of growing stronger, of making them eat their words. For now, though, it remained a distant goal.

Ingrit sighed heavily, lost in thought, when he felt a sudden, familiar impact on his back.

"Yo! What's up, Ingrit?"

He winced and turned, his annoyed, pained gaze landing on the culprit.

"That hurts, man," he said, his voice tinged with irritation.

The offender, a boy with jet-black spiky hair, a lively expression, and sparkling black eyes full of energy, grinned unapologetically.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to hit you that hard," he said, though his tone betrayed his amusement.

This was Givan, Ingrit's one and only friend—a perpetual source of both camaraderie and frustration.

Ingrit's face twisted in annoyance. "You always say that, Givan."

Shrugging, Givan flashed an innocent smile that was anything but convincing.

"Maybe try to be a little gentler next time," Ingrit added with a resigned sigh. "Not that I expect you to stop slamming my poor back. At this point, I'm thinking of wearing a metal plate under my uniform."

Givan's face lit up with mock innocence, as if Ingrit had just showered him with praise.

"Aw, don't give me such nice compliments, my man!" he said, his grin widening.

Ingrit glared at him, unimpressed. "Don't give me that crap," he shot back.

Behind Givan's feigned innocence, Ingrit knew lurked a mischievous streak. His friend's playful antics, while infuriating, were oddly comforting. After all, in a world that often felt hostile and unforgiving, Givan was the one person Ingrit could truly count on.

After a short wait, Ingrit's name was finally called. He approached the desk where a blonde-haired woman sat, her sharp eyes scanning the papers before her as she assigned missions to divers.

As Ingrit stood before her, she raised her head, fixing him with an exasperated look. Her left eye twitched slightly, a clear sign of the conversation that was about to follow.

Ingrit frowned, bracing himself. He knew exactly what was coming.

"Ingrit... Ugh," she sighed heavily. "How many times do I have to tell you not to take dangerous missions like diving? You've got a promising future, you know. But fine. Whatever. It's not like you're going to listen to me anyway."

With a resigned shake of her head, she handed him a small green mission pass. The paper bore his name, "Ingrit Clodines," along with the word "Authorized" printed boldly in black ink.

This seemingly insignificant piece of paper granted divers permission to undertake specific missions.

"Go over there," the woman instructed, gesturing toward three individuals standing in the far-right corner of the room. "They're your teammates."

Ingrit glanced in the indicated direction and saw his team waiting. For missions, academy divers were always grouped into teams of four—one first-year, one second-year, one third-year, and a guild member. Though Ingrit wasn't a professional diver yet. Because, academy divers couldn't go pro until they graduated and joined a guild. So, these smaller missions now were crucial for gaining experience.

He approached his teammates, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Uh… I'm Ingrit Clodines," he said, his tone slightly unsure. "I'm your final teammate. Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is ours," a tall man replied, extending his hand. "I'm Sein Mortine."

Ingrit's eyes widened slightly as he shook Sein's hand, admiration evident in his expression. Standing before him was none other than the third-strongest mage of the prestigious "Light Seekers" guild.

The Light Seekers were one of the ten most powerful guilds in the world, known for their unmatched skill and influence. Working with someone of Sein's caliber was nothing short of a dream for Ingrit. It felt surreal, like standing beside one of his idols.

Sein had long yellow hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a tight red diving suit crafted from the skin of a red sea dragon—a material renowned for its exceptional durability and rarity.

Next, a girl with long black hair and bright green eyes stepped forward. She wore a sleek yellow costume made from the skin of a Madness Serpent.

"My name is Inia Syrin," she said, her voice calm and polite. "I'm a second-year. Looking forward to working with you."

Finally, a boy with short black hair and intense black eyes gave a curt introduction.

"The name's Dirt Mortibie," he said, his tone sharp and his face set in a permanent scowl. His white costume gave him an air of pristine confidence, though his expression suggested he wasn't the friendliest of the group.

Ingrit nodded to each of them before saying, "Please wait for me outside. I just need to change into my gear."

He headed to his locker, retrieved his diving costume and magical mask, and went to the changing room. The suit was green, complete with matching gloves and diving shoes. It was crafted from the skin of a Dognitter, one of the weakest sea beasts. Though not the most durable, the suit did provide a crucial benefit: it was fully resistant to poison, a common hazard in underwater missions.

Once he was ready, Ingrit stepped outside the academy to meet his team. His green costume, while simple compared to the others', reflected his current standing—still at the beginning of his journey. But despite his modest gear, his resolve to prove himself burned stronger than ever.

After regrouping, the four teammates hailed a floating taxi—a sleek, white vehicle that hovered a few inches above the ground, gliding smoothly through the air. The soft hum of its magical engine filled the air as they boarded.

Within minutes, they arrived at their destination: the flying boat station.

The station bustled with activity, divers preparing for their missions, boats departing, and staff managing logistics. Flying boats were essential for divers, serving as a bridge between the cloud cities above and the vast, treacherous ocean below. These compact vessels, powered by concentrated magical energy, descended gracefully through the skies.

"We're here," Sein announced with a smirk.

Turning to the ticket counter, he called out, "Hey, old man! Four tickets for the boat."

The attendant, an elderly man with a thick mustache and weathered features, eyed them for a moment before reaching into a drawer. After a brief pause, he handed Sein four white tickets.

"Here you go," the old man said gruffly.

Taking the tickets, Sein gestured to his teammates. "Let's go."

The group made their way to their assigned flying boat. It was small and somewhat cramped, but it would do. They climbed aboard, squeezing into the limited space as best they could. Once inside, they began preparing for the dive.

Each of them donned a white, magical mask designed to filter out toxins from the ocean's poisonous waters. Unlike conventional diving equipment, these masks didn't require bulky gas tanks. Instead, they stored enough breathable air to last for six months and could be refilled with magic-infused gas as needed. Along with the masks, they secured their diving goggles and pulled up the hoods of their suits, completing their gear.

With everything in place, the boat's magical energy activated, and it began its descent toward the ocean.

Ingrit peered over the edge, watching the world shift as the boat lowered. The endless expanse of blue water grew closer with every passing second. His heart raced—not from fear, but from the anticipation of what lay ahead.

The boat touched down gently on the surface of the ocean, its hull bobbing slightly with the waves.

Sein stood at the edge, his gaze fixed on the shimmering blue expanse. "Get ready, everyone. We're about to dive in," he said, his voice firm. "From this point on, there's no telling what kind of dangers we'll face. Stay sharp and prepare yourselves."

The team nodded in unison.

Ingrit clenched his fists tightly, steeling himself. Unlike his teammates, he knew he was the weakest among them. The thought weighed on him, but he pushed it aside. This was his chance to prove himself.

"Ready?" Sein asked.

"One… Two… Three… Dive in!"

With that, Sein leaped into the water, disappearing beneath the waves.

Without hesitation, the others followed, one by one, plunging into the vast ocean. Ingrit was the last to dive, the cold water enveloping him as he descended into the unknown depths.