Chuckling erupts behind me, a sound that ricochets off the walls of my dorm. "Hahaha, seriously? Already falling? I barely did anything," Ilka calls out, her voice filled with glee.
I groan, rubbing my temples as I lay sprawled on the floor. "Ugh, how the hell, how? All I did was watch you," I grumble, propping myself up on my elbows. "Seriously, am I going to do that?"
Ilka lands on my forehead, her laughter pealing out again. "Hahaha, no way, not yet at least," she says, trying to contain her mirth. "I tried my best to control my movements so you didn't get confused. If you practice every day, maybe in...6 months, yeah, maybe in six months you might be able to do it."
I push myself up, groaning at the prospect of six months of this torturous training. Ilka flies off my forehead, landing on my head instead. "Alright," I sigh, resigning myself to the grueling training schedule that lay ahead. "Let's go again."
As I prepare myself to start, a thought strikes me. "Hey, why do you keep calling me V?" I ask, turning my head slightly to look at her.
Ilka huffs, sitting cross-legged atop my head. "You said your name was Kael, and yet everyone is calling you V!" she exclaims, her tone bordering on annoyance. I can almost picture her cheeks puffing out in irritation.
I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. "Well, my Current identity is V but my name is Kael. Well, whatever it doesn't matter what you call me," I explain, offering her a shrug.
A few dozen attempts later, I've barely made it to the seventh step. Sweat is pouring down my face and my body feels like it's made of lead. I don't even have the strength to stand, my back flat against the cool floor as I struggle to catch my breath.
Eventually, I manage to push myself off the floor and head to my bed, leaving the scattered sheets of paper untouched. Ilka watches me silently, her face showing a smug satisfaction. "Get some rest, Kael," she instructs, her form beginning to fade. "Tomorrow is going to be another long day."
I nod, too tired to argue or even muster up a sarcastic remark. "Night, Ilka," I mumble, my eyes already beginning to close.
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
The following day, my body feels like it's been run over by a train. Every muscle aches, reminding me of the grueling training from yesterday. Groaning, I manage to haul myself out of bed. It's time for my first day in the first class, Magic Theory and Application.
After a quick shower, I retrieve Umbra from my desk. Her form shimmers into existence, a frown marring her face. "Are you seriously going to trap me in there again?" she asks, her voice holding a note of desperation.
I wince, understanding her dislike for the confinement, but it's necessary. "Sorry, Ilka," I say, forcing her spirit back into the sword. Her form fades with a sigh, and I head out of my dorm. Finally some peace from that crazy thing.
The campus is buzzing with students, some still half-asleep and others already brimming with energy. As I head towards the building for my class, a wave of vibrant blue hair catches my attention.
"V!" a familiar voice rings out, and I see Elara bouncing towards me. Her striking purple eyes sparkle with excitement and her energetic aura is like a shock to my system. "It's great we share a class!" she exclaims, a bright grin plastered on her face. Damn, I guess I'm stuck with her in this class.
I let out a sigh, her boundless enthusiasm already making my head spin. "Yeah, it's... great, I didn't think we would share a class," I respond, struggling to match her energy. Why does everything have to be so difficult so early in the morning? My muscles still ache from yesterday's training, I wonder who else is in my class?
"Come on, V," Elara urges, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards our class. "Let's not be late on our first day!"
As we enter the classroom, Elara promptly drags me towards a pair of vacant seats near the middle of the room. We slide into our places just as the rest of our classmates file in, bringing the total up to 20 students. Arin, Rai, and Isabella are also in this class.
Across the room, a student is setting up some presentation materials at the front. His name is Arvin - I recognize him from my manuscript. He's one of those people who always volunteers to help out, eager to impress the teachers. I don't remember much about him in my novel, was he just some side character? Today, his lucky beneficiary is Professor Feron, the man responsible for teaching Magic Theory and Application.
Professor Feron strides into the room with an air of nonchalance that contradicts the stern expression on his face. His short black hair is neatly combed, and he carries a stack of books in his arms. His glasses sit precariously on the bridge of his nose, reflecting the early morning light. He can't be much older than 30, yet his eyes hold an age beyond his years. Or to be more precise he used some technique to look younger.
"Good morning, class," he greets, setting his books down and casting a sweeping gaze over the room. His gaze momentarily lingers on me, and I can't help but feel a chill run down my spine.
Professor Feron is no saint - he works with cultists, and my story dictates that he'll soon become one himself. How annoying, I wish I could just get rid of him but unfortunately he is quite strong. I better stay calm, he doesn't consider students threats.
If only the professors knew his identity, then I wouldn't need to deal with this myself. Unfortunately for me, he doesn't like leaving evidence so I can't really report him.
It's an odd feeling, sitting in a room with a man you know is destined for darkness. I glance at Elara, her eyes focused on the professor with eager intensity, completely oblivious to his future path. I let out a silent sigh. If only I had someone else to help me...
"Alright, let's get started, All of you are new students here however you will end up talking to each other so introductions are unnecessary," Professor Feron announces, breaking into my thoughts. "Welcome to Magic Theory and Application. Today, we'll begin with a discussion about the basics of mana..."
Professor Feron begins his rounds around the classroom, a red holographic screen appearing at the front as he talks. On the screen, a grim list of incidents scrolls past - deaths of individuals who've met their end while using magic. Each line represents a life lost, a cautionary tale to us novices.
"If you look at the screen, you can see the deaths related to beginners using magic," Professor Feron starts, his voice grim. "We all know magic is dangerous. However, does anyone know the reason these people died?"
I sit back in my chair, my eyes moving lazily over the holographic display. The tragedies that unfolded due to mishandled magic are familiar to me. After all, I was the one who penned most of these events. It's surreal to watch them being dissected in a classroom setting. Using magic is just as difficult as aura however unlike aura when expanding your core or how other novels liked to call it 'mana heart' one cannot take any shortcuts, it could lead to instant death.
Before I can get lost in my thoughts, a voice rises from the rows of seats.
"Professor," Isabella, speaks up. She straightens in her seat, her gaze cold and confident. "These people were all stupid. They attempted to take shortcuts or speed up the process of activating the first level of their mana cores. This leads them to either corrupt their minds or explode. They are a bunch of amateurs that deserved their death,"
The class falls silent at her blunt explanation, some students visibly taken aback by her candor. Isabella, however, doesn't seem fazed, her posture as regal as ever. It's easy to see the influence of her family of mages in her demeanor.
"Very good, Isabella," Professor Feron praises, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It seems your mother has taught you well. However please watch what you say."
Isabella's smirk grows at his words, her ego inflated even further. She turns her head, her eyes scanning the room as if daring anyone to challenge her.
Despite knowing the dark path Feron will tread in the future, I have to acknowledge his method of teaching. What was the reason he joined the cult again? Was it because he was sick? Goddammit, I can't remember.
I sigh, glancing at the holographic screen one more time before leaning back in my chair, Damn I'm getting bored.
"How many of you can feel your mana?" The professor's question hangs in the air, echoing against the classroom walls.
A moment of silence follows his words, as students share uneasy glances. Then, slowly, about half the class raises their hands. My hand goes up as well, joining the others. Beside me, I see a flash of blue as Elara raises her hand too.
She turns to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "V, do you already sense it?" she whispers, her voice full of admiration. "That's impressive!"
Internally, I let out a sigh. How could I not sense it, after being around Zeke for so long? His presence is like a beacon, constantly pulling at the edges of my senses. In fact, it would be a miracle if I couldn't after meeting Darius.
I just chuckle softly, turning to meet her gaze. "Haha, I just got lucky," I tell her, my words light and dismissive.
Professor Feron's voice cuts through our conversation, drawing the attention back to him. "Now, now everyone, settle down. Those who can't sense their mana, please line up. I will be assisting you," he instructs, already moving towards the front of the classroom. "As for those of you who can sense your mana, head to the library. The librarian is waiting for you."
Finally, I've been waiting for this, the librarian will just show us a bunch of books with methods of handling mana. Hahaha, the secret method is all mine now that the Mason isn't here.