Master Izzy pretended she didn't see my expression and continued sipping her tea.
"I'll try to make it simple," she said. "In the mortal world, when someone is considered a Master, they like to be acknowledged. But a true Master isn't going to care about the acknowledgment of the masses. You can't become a true Master by winning popularity contests. Only the acknowledgment of juniors, peers, and rivals matters because they're the only ones who actually understand the subject.
Take music for example. Anyone can call themselves a Master of Music on your world if they have enough talent to release a few hit songs. But true Masters are the people who the famous musicians seek out when they need advice on how to improve and make their music reach more people without abandoning their foundation."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Immortal Masters aren't much different than mortal ones. They prefer acknowledgment over blind worship. And that's what make Sages so great. Sages never stick with a subject long enough to Master it themselves, meaning they'll never be rivals. At the same time, they're attentive students who are willing to listen when Masters ramble about their discoveries. That makes them a perpetual source of acknowledgment. Sages can also be equals who are intelligent enough to ask questions and, sometimes, offer an opinion or idea based on their knowledge of different fields. That's why some people think of Sages as 'Rainbow Bridges'. You have the power to connect people simply by showing your interest in them."
I pondered over her words and discovered something rather upsetting. "You're basically saying I'm destined to always be someone's follower because I don't have the talent to be on top and I'm inconstant."
She paled. "That's not what I said! Look at it this way—do you want to chase the dream of being an Emperor? Can you imagine yourself as a leader in any way?"
The image didn't appeal to me. That much power came with responsibilities that seemed entirely tiresome. Even so, the way she described Sages felt belittling, as if I was destined to be a third-rate lackey. I didn't mind it if I didn't win a top prize in life, but I wasn't happy being relegated to the faceless masses, either.
I should have some kind of undiscovered talent. Right?
"I'm not good with people," I said. "Being a leader is out of the question, which should mean I can't be one of your 'Rainbow Bridges', either."
"You only think that way because your world doesn't value people who know how to listen, but I can help you with that. With a little practice, I can teach you ways to train and utilize the skill. Are you willing to sign up for AR missions?"
"AR missions?" I asked. My eyes widened when I realized what she meant. "Wait, you mean augmented reality? Aetherscape has that kind of cross-over feature?"
Master Izzy laughed at my expression. "Aetherscape is a lot more advanced than you know, although a small percentage of players will ever explore beyond the surface. If you want to do AR missions in your physical world, you'll need to buy a Earthscape watch."
I froze when I realized what was going on. This was the game's way of convincing me to spend more money on micro-transactions! Dammit! I almost fell for it, too. The more I talked to Master Izzy, the more I was getting completely sucked into the cultivation fantasy.
"I think I'll be okay without AR missions," I said stiffly. "I'd prefer to keep my autonomy."
"You don't want to use my system?" she asked with a knowing smirk.
I kept my voice firm. "I'll pass."
"Well, that's fine. I prefer men who can think for themselves." Her smile turned flirtatious.
I wanted to slap my forehead at all the proverbial flags she was throwing at me. Was the AI running through a gamut of options right now? Was it trying to fine-tune its software?
"If you keep it up, I'll look for a different trainer," I warned.
"You'll have a different trainer anyway," she said, her expression suddenly turning glum.
"What do you mean?"
"It'd be fine if you were a normal mortal, but I can't keep a presumptive Sage to myself. Don't get me wrong—I'm not going to suddenly throw you into a circle of Gods and Goddesses and tell you to fend for yourself. I can train you a few years until we've honed your learning ability, but afterward we'll need to start bringing in outside tutors to give advanced lessons."
She was talking a few years down the line. I didn't know if I'd still be playing Aetherscape by then, so I didn't say anything.
"You're right," she said in answer to my silence. "I'm thinking too much. You're still a complete beginner and don't have a foundation. We don't even know your learning speed yet. Even if it turns out you are a true Sage, there's no reason to mention it to anyone yet. You don't want to hear about cultivation and immortal life anyway. Yes! I can use that to keep the other Gods and Goddesses off my back. No one wants to scare off a potential Sage."
I rolled my eyes. "Does this mean we're done talking about that stuff? I'd rather talk about something different."
She rearranged herself, giving me her full attention. "Alright, it sounds like you have something specific on your mind. Is it about music lessons?"
"I'd like to start that soon, yes. But first there's a game skill I'm hoping you can teach me how to use."
"Which one?"
"Aetheric Cultivation."
I barely managed to keep a straight face when her jaw dropped. She looked around the room like the wind would tell her how to answer my request. I sipped my tea to hide my delight over successfully teasing her.
"You--!" she spluttered.
"Don't be mad. I already told you I play Aetherscape. I might not be interested in becoming an Immortal King, but I am willing to learn how to play Aetherscape better. The game gave me a way to use magic, so it only makes sense I learn how to use it."
She snapped her teeth. "I get it! You don't want to be considered a traditional cultivator. That's fine. I'll still make you the best damn Sage in Aetherscape or my name isn't Zoyra Izumi!"