After the theoretical explanation, Nylaen guided the students through a practical exercise.
"Now, let's try a basic exercise in absorbing ambient mana," Nylaen instructed. "Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and feel the mana floating around you. If you can sense the flow, try guiding it toward your mana core in your chest."
Luther took a deep breath and closed his eyes, attempting to focus. He could feel a faint vibration in the air, as if mana were an invisible current flowing past him. With each breath, he tried to guide that energy toward his core, but the sensation was faint and elusive.
"Remember, this process is slow at first," Nylaen reassured in a gentle tone. "Don't get frustrated if you don't succeed immediately. With time and practice, you'll be able to absorb and channel ambient mana more effectively."
As Luther struggled with the exercise, a mocking whisper broke his concentration.
"Look at the dark mana freak—can't even do a basic exercise," Ithan sneered from across the room.
Ithan's comment elicited laughter from a few students, and Luther felt his focus shatter entirely. The energy destabilized, and a small dark spark flickered in his hand before disappearing. Frustrated, he lowered his gaze, trying to ignore the curious stares and resist the temptation to react.
"Enough, Ithan," Nylaen said sternly. "Everyone here is here to learn. Respect is essential."
Ithan rolled his eyes but stayed quiet, his mocking smirk lingering. Luther forced himself to focus again, recalling Nylaen's words and Elise's quiet encouragement.
After the tense mana absorption exercise in Basic Magic class and Ithan's unpleasant remarks, Luther and Elise headed to the dining hall, trying to shake off the classroom's tensions. The dining hall was a spacious room adorned with banners of legendary kingdoms, long tables, and a constant hum of students of all ages and magical affinities.
Elise and Luther sat at a table in the middle, not far from the area where senior students usually gathered. The aroma of spices and freshly baked bread filled the air, and the clinking of dishes marked the rhythm of the meal. Still irritated by Ithan's taunts, Luther sank into his thoughts while Elise scanned the hall, trying to distract him with comments about the decor or the day's menu.
Suddenly, a commotion at the dining hall entrance caught their attention. A group of fifth-year students entered with an imposing air, as if they owned the world. Their steps resonated with confidence, and a buzz spread across the tables as people noticed their arrival.
"What's going on?" Luther asked, noticing Elise set her spoon down and straighten her back, her eyes sparkling with amazement.
Elise, suppressing a nervous smile, pointed toward the group with her chin. "Don't you know? That's Luka Thalamar, along with Revan and his entourage."
Luther, a bit puzzled, asked, "Who's that?"
Hearing this, Elise gasped as if it was unthinkable not to know who they were. "WHAT?! How can you not know?!" she exclaimed, taking a quick breath before bursting into an excited explanation. "Luka is one of the most renowned mages in the academy! He's in his final year and in the same class as the princess. They say he's her fiancé and has won the kingdom's annual tournament four years in a row. He's considered the best mage of the decade."
While Elise rambled on about Luka and his accomplishments, Luther focused on Luka himself. He was a slender young man with a noble bearing and a smile exuding borderline arrogance. His presence radiated confidence—the kind that some found captivating and others found infuriating. Beside him, Revan, the son of Sir Aldric, the commander of the kingdom's knights, carried the same air of superiority. Two more followers rounded out the group—silent admirers seemingly proud to bask in their company.
"So, the princess's fiancé…" murmured Luther, without much enthusiasm. Instead of being impressed, Luka and his entourage's attitude struck him as aggressively arrogant.
"Look, they're looking for someone," Elise whispered, excited and nervous, as if watching celebrities enter the scene.
Luther noticed Luka scanning the dining hall critically, as if evaluating the quality of the audience. Suddenly, Luka smiled with unshakable confidence and locked eyes with Luther.
"Me?" Luther thought, narrowing his eyes. "Just what I needed…" He had no idea why someone like Luka would take an interest in him, a newcomer with no fame or renown.
As if reading his thoughts, Elise leaned closer to Luther, her voice trembling with restrained excitement. "I-I think they're coming toward us," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on Luka, her hand lightly resting on Luther's arm to steady a small tremble.
Luther showed no emotion beyond a slight tightening of his jaw. He maintained eye contact with Luka, adopting a firm posture. The aisle between the tables seemed to stretch as the entourage advanced, leaving a trail of whispers and curious glances in their wake.
Revan walked a step behind Luka, chin held high, scrutinizing those present with a hint of disdain. The rest of the entourage followed Luka and Revan, maintaining the trademark arrogance they seemed to embody. It was clear they considered themselves the center of attention and relished it.
Finally, Luka stopped in front of Luther, his smile sharp and confident, while Revan and the others positioned themselves slightly behind him, forming a symbolic barrier with their presence.
"So, you're Luther, huh?" Luka said in a clear voice, his tone laced with amusement, as if he were analyzing an intriguing new addition to his collection.
"I've got something to discuss with you. I wonder if we could"—he paused, taking a deliberate look around—"go somewhere a bit quieter…" he finished, turning his gaze back to them with his characteristic sly smile.
Elise barely stifled a gasp, clutching Luther's arm tightly, too nervous to speak. Luther remained steadfast, crossing his arms calmly. He had no idea what this famous mage wanted with him, but he wasn't about to let himself be intimidated. The dining hall fell silent, as if time itself had paused in anticipation of this encounter—where the fame and power of the veterans clashed with the uncertainty of the newcomers.