Without a doubt, it stated that the Spellrune could be used to cast a space-time spell - the category of spell that, in the history of the Empire, had been cast by only one person. She was the original Demoness.
Croy immediately understood why no one else had chosen the one-handed sword.
This rune... was completely useless!
No one, absolutely no one, was capable of unleashing a space-time spell. The only reason the category even existed was to uphold the legend of the spellcaster - to inspire young spellcasters to strive to develop a new kind of spell themselves.
But to cast a space-time spell? Forget it.
Even the Spellrune, which was supposed to serve as a kind of aid, was so chaotic one couldn't even call it complex. Why would anyone bother to create such a rune? Did it even work?
Croy read on. This had to be a bad joke.
"Doctor Drutus Kiener wanted to fulfill his dream with the Spellrune: to revive the space-time spells of his idol. While the rune should have worked in theory, Doctor Kiener died attempting to activate it. He refused to accept his failure and let his entire mana flow into the rune for days until he ultimately succumbed to excessive mana exhaustion. The effect of the space-time spell is unknown."
Croy had to read the text twice to make sure someone wasn't playing a trick on him. Then he laughed hollowly.
'Great. Not only is the rune useless, but I can also die from it.'
Why was something like that just lying around the Academy? He sighed.
At least the other two runes were useful, especially the counter-spell. He had no reason to get so upset - after all, he hadn't even managed to activate the other two yet.
With one last disdainful glance at the text about the Spellrune, Croy turned off the smartwatch. Then he concentrated his mana and let it flow into the sharpness spell rune in three short pulses, as the activation conditions required.
Nothing happened. He smiled. He hadn't expected it to be that easy.
Learning a spell was no different from learning a new language. First, you needed the rules of the spell, and only then did it require a lot of practice to master them. While Croy's violet mana was a great help, even that had its limits.
'Again'
He tried again and failed.
'Again'
No result.
'Again'
'Again'
He kept varying the amplitude and length of the pulses, hoping to ignite that small breakthrough or spark.
'Again'
***
Croy sat, sweating, on the floor of the gymnasium. He still held the sword in his hand.
Even after countless attempts, the rune remained nothing more than an engraving on the steel, and Croy could slowly feel his mana reserves running out.
He gritted his teeth, wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then he stood up.
'Again'
Again, he concentrated his mana - but this time, as he channeled it into the sword, his legs wobbled beneath him, and he lost his balance. For a second, everything blurred before his eyes.
But the rune remained inactive.
He sighed. Perhaps it had been a bit overconfident to hope he would master the rune spell on the first day, even though he hadn't even tried one before.
Slowly, he sheathed the sword and, for the first time in a while, looked around the gymnasium.
'No one else is here?'
He didn't know how long he had been training, but apparently, he was the last student still in the training hall.
Actually, after playing around with the rune, he had wanted to look at the basics of swordsmanship. How late was it anyway? A glance at the smartwatch gave him the answer.
'My God, it's already midnight!' he noted, startled.
He had completely lost track of time, blocked out everything else, and focused only on the rune. He had been here for five whole hours without a break.
And tomorrow morning he had to show up here again for Professor Aerav's Spellweapon training class. Seems like he wouldn't get much sleep tonight. After all, he was completely sweaty. He couldn't go to bed like this.
He had spare clothes and a second uniform in his room. As he made his way to leave the empty gymnasium, he noticed that the light in the heat room was still on.
'Was someone else still here?'
What kind of lunatic trained in the middle of the week until late at night?
Out of pure curiosity, he opened the door of the heat room a crack and dared to take a look inside.
Inside the heat room, sitting behind a second protective glass wall, was the royal princess of Al'Kadutor, Princess Kadutor. She sat in the middle of the heat room, in the lotus position, and seemed to be meditating.
Her auburn hair was completely wet with sweat, and her enchanting red lips were pressed tightly together.
She didn't look comfortable at all, as she had her eyes tightly closed as well. Like Croy, she wore only the uniform pants and a loose black tank top, which also seemed soaked with sweat.
A fine layer of yellow-green mana flickered around her slender yet muscular body.
Croy glanced at the temperature display. 74 degrees Celsius. That was simply inhuman.
'Damn. How long has she been doing this?'
There was no display for that, but Croy didn't know if he could have managed it himself. Not with the spells he knew, at least.
Impressed and also a bit motivated, he was about to close the door again when Princess Kadutor said something.
"Are you here to creep?"
Croy prayed that she wasn't talking to him. He wasn't a pervert!
But unfortunately, there was no one else she could be speaking to. So he reluctantly opened the door wider. Princess Kadutor hadn't even opened her eyes.
"How did you know it was me?" he asked.
Princess Kadutor still didn't look at him, apparently continuing to focus on maintaining the mana layer around her body. Croy wondered whether that was a creation or body spell.
"Your mana is quite easy to recognize," the girl replied.
Croy tilted his head. Yellow-green mana - about in the middle of the spectrum...
"You're a sensor, Your Majesty?"
Princess Kadutor did not answer. Croy shrugged - if she didn't want to talk, he had nothing more to do here, so he began to close the door again. It was time to finally go to sleep.
"How did you do that? During the duel?" she asked.
'Make up your mind, princess!'
Croy suppressed a sigh.
"The thing with the barrier at the end? My mana allows-"
"No, not that," she interrupted him and opened her eyes to look at him for the first time. They were deep brown, like Croy's.
In those eyes was an ocean of self-confidence. And determination.
"I mean your emotions. You were clearly angry and agitated - I believe you even wanted to kill Lord Jradan. Then you suddenly calmed down."
That was her question? Did she want to know his method for that? He would have thought that as a princess of a mighty kingdom, she would have her own methods.
"Experience, I guess," he answered after a short thought.
Princess Kadutor looked at him for a moment longer before closing her eyes again and refocusing on her spell.
"Experience, huh? What a pity. You are dismissed."
Croy almost had to laugh when he realized that she hadn't meant the words as a joke. He frowned.
"How gracious of you, Your Majesty," he replied with clear sarcasm.
He could see the girl's eyelids twitch briefly in irritation. Then the corners of her mouth lifted into a tiny grin, visible only for a moment.
"A future ruler should be gracious to all. Even to perverts who gape at a sweating girl through a crack in the door."
'Good comeback,' thought Croy with a grimace before he closed the door and now, in a slightly worse mood, began to leave the gymnasium to finally freshen up and go to sleep.
But on the way back, he couldn't help but think about the brief encounter. Not about her beautiful face or her sweat-glittering shoulder... admittedly, a little bit, but above all, he thought about why the princess was still training so late.
She was clearly confident in herself and her abilities. Was hard training the source of that?
If so, did she train so obsessively because, as the princess of Al'Kadutor, she represented her kingdom within the Empire? Or was she simply a workaholic?
He also remembered the fiery look Princess Kadutor had given the imperial twins. She was clearly targeting them. So something like a proxy competition, even if it seemed one-sided?
On the other hand, perhaps the imperial twins were equally aware of the princess.
Croy had to laugh. He had his own rival in young Lord Jradan.
So these were the rivalries that the Imperial Academy loved to foster. What a devilishly clever way to spur the students forward. And they had only been at the Imperial Academy for three days.
Even after he finally showered and had already gone to bed, he was still thinking about the exciting three days and forgot more and more about sleep.
Then, after an hour, with a slight grin on his face, he fell asleep.
***
"What's with your appearance?" Inera asked with a puzzled look as they stood side by side in Gymnasium Number Seven.
Croy rubbed his forehead. He was used to little sleep from the military, but yesterday he had used so much mana trying to activate the Spellrune that the exhaustion was still haunting him a bit.
"I dreamed of you," he joked.
"Very funny."
Croy had to chuckle. Fredrik had gone to the shooting range to practice with his bow. Today's Spellweapon training was a bit different from the day before yesterday.
Those students who already knew how to handle their weapons had the choice to either practice on their own or join the others. To Croy and Inera's surprise, Fredrik already had experience with archery.
Most of these students had chosen to continue training on their own, which was not surprising. Many of them came from prominent families and probably already had an established training plan.
Croy had also briefly seen Princess Kadutor. She didn't look the least bit tired from yesterday.
Quite the opposite of Croy himself.
"So," Professor Aerav finally spoke after finishing her preparations, "I assume those who are still here need some help handling their Spellweapons. Since this isn't a task I can undertake alone, and since I'm not a supporter of virtual trainers, I've invited some friends who didn't have much else to do."
She pointed to the entrance of the gymnasium, and just as Croy directed his gaze there, the double doors swung wide open.
A considerable number of people, at least forty, in all sorts of attire, entered. Croy even recognized a face or two.
'Those are soldiers.'
Professor Aerav addressed the questioning students.
"As some of you know, I was a soldier during the war. These are all friends or people who owe me from that time. They are all capable Spellcasters and know a thing or two about handling a Spellweapon. Now, besides celebrating, they don't have much to do, so I summoned them. They will teach you individually or in groups all day today. Ask them yourselves who masters which weapon."
Many of the students looked impressed. Professor Aerav had gone to the trouble of bringing battle-experienced experts to the Academy just to give the inexperienced students valuable training.
That was the actual problem with the Spellweapon training class. Professor Aerav was only one person, and even if she was extremely capable, she could never master all the different weapons herself. There were simply too many students to help everyone at the beginning until they could train on their own.
These people would be a great help to the students. Croy was also pleased. He could find someone to show him the basics of the sword.
But then, he was overcome by an uneasy feeling.
If these were all people who owed Professor Aerav, Cookoff, something, then she had to be among them!
"Croyyyy~" a cheerful, bright voice called out from the crowd.
Croy turned around and began to run, but then he already felt a small body tackle him from behind with the force of a car.
He rolled onto his back and looked up into the grinning face of Bunny.
"I've missed you so much, you little baby!"