Kael learned that Aeris is blind and fights using a compressed Mana Zone called Blade Domain.

  He was introduced to Zeph and Kany, the other academy students training alongside her.

  Kaji revealed himself as a Vow User.

  “Hey! You were amazing out there!” Zeph said, eyes practically sparkling with excitement.

  “So—you’re a fire-style user too, right?”

  Kael paused.

  Fire-style…?

  He stared at his hand for a moment, lost in thought.

  Am I really a fire user?

  “…I don’t know,” Kael said honestly. “Not yet.”

  Zeph blinked. “Huh?”

  “I’ve only used fire so far,” Kael added quietly, more to himself than to Zeph.

  Zeph scratched his head. “That’s weird. Don’t you need to stick to one type of magic?”

  “What do you mean?” Kael asked.

  Zeph straightened, clearly excited to explain.

  “Your strength depends on how much you practice a spell,” he said. “Let me put it simply.”

  “Imagine two people. Person A and Person B.”

  Kael listened.

  “Person A practices one ability for five years,” Zeph continued.

  “Person B practices four abilities for five years.”

  He grinned. “Person A wins every time.”

  Kael’s eyes widened slightly.

  “Because Person A understands that one ability better,” Zeph said. “Better timing, better control, better instincts.”

  “…Oh,” Kael said. “I get it now.”

  Zeph nodded proudly. “See? Simple.”

  But Kael wasn’t really listening anymore.

  His thoughts drifted inward.

  That explains it…

  Why no one cared about the law I discovered.

  The logic was convincing. Straightforward. Easy to understand.

  Most mages shaped mana with imagination and repetition. They trained their instincts again and again until their bodies moved without thinking. Over time, their mana reserves grew—and their spells improved naturally.

  No deep thinking required.

  But my method is different.

  Kael clenched his fingers slowly.

  I don’t imagine fire.

  I create the conditions for it.

  He pictured it clearly in his mind.

  Air compressed into a single point.

  Rotation building friction.

  Heat rising naturally.

  Air contained oxygen. Hydrogen.

  Fire wasn’t something to force—it was something to invite.

  Once the conditions are right, he thought, all I need is a spark.

  Mana wasn’t the shape.

  Mana was the trigger.

  Mana was the fuel.

  But—

  To maintain it, I still need focus.

  Constant control.

  If my concentration slips, everything collapses.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Kael exhaled quietly.

  Focus. Knowledge. Mana.

  Miss even one—and the spell fails.

  No wonder others avoided it.

  But Kael felt it deep in his chest.

  If I master this…

  His eyes sharpened.

  This path will take me further than instinct ever could.

  Zeph tilted his head. “Uh… Kael?”

  Kael flinched slightly.

  “Ah—sorry,” he said quickly. “I was… thinking too much.”

  Zeph laughed. “Man, you think way too hard.”

  Kael smiled faintly.

  Maybe, he thought.

  “Anyway,” Zeph said casually, “how old are you, Kael?”

  Kael hesitated for a moment.

  “I’m… twelve.”

  “No way!” Kany blurted out.

  “You’re younger than Aeris?” he added, staring.

  “She and Zeph are both fourteen.”

  Kany crossed his arms dramatically.

  “So that means you’re three years younger than me? Oh man…”

  Zeph smirked. “Wow. You’re really old, Kany.”

  “Oh yeah?” Kany shot back. “Then start calling me Father.”

  Zeph burst out laughing, and Kany quickly joined in.

  Aeris didn’t.

  Without a word, she turned and began walking toward the campus hostel, her steps quick and straight.

  “…What’s with her?” Kany muttered, his voice suddenly lower.

  “Kany.”

  Kaji’s voice was sharp.

  “Don’t make jokes like that in front of her again,” Kaji said coldly.

  Kany confused. “What? It was just a joke. I didn’t even include her.”

  Kaji’s eyes hardened.

  “Her father died four years ago.”

  Everyone went silent.

  Kael felt his chest tighten. “H-How did he die?”

  Kaji hesitated for a second.

  “…He took his own life.”

  The words fell heavy between them.

  “But why—” Kany started.

  “That’s enough,” Kaji cut in firmly.

  “It’s already noon. Go to your rooms.”

  No one argued.

  Kaji turned to Kael, his tone calmer now.

  “Come with me. I’ll show you your room. Training will start tomorrow.”

  Kael nodded and followed him.

  After a short walk, Kaji stopped in front of a door.

  “This will be your room, Kael,” he said.

  “Your meal is already inside. Get some rest.”

  Kaji turned to leave.

  Kael blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.

  “Um… why are there only a few of us in the academy?” he asked.

  Kaji paused.

  “The academy works on a two-year system,” he explained.

  “We take one main batch at a time. However, talented students can still be accepted until the end of the first year.”

  He gave Kael a small nod.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kael.”

  The door closed softly.

  Kael stood still for a moment.

  “Mira… you still have almost a year to make it here,” Kael thought, a quiet smile forming on his lips.

  The academy was quiet.

  A voice—

  too close.

  “Help me… Hiro…”

  The sound warped, echoing in on itself.

  “Nina—”

  Footsteps.

  Then stopping.

  “Please… don’t leave me alone.”

  Silence.

  A man’s voice, shaking.

  “I’m… so pathetic…”

  Another voice cut through it—flat. Distant.

  “Don’t show me your face again.”

  White light.

  Too bright.

  A hospital window.

  A woman standing there.

  “No… don’t do it.”

  Her voice broke apart.

  “Don’t do it… no—”

  A hand reached out.

  Almost touching.

  Too slow.

  She jumped.

  The air screamed.

  The fall—

  “No…!”

  Kael woke with a sharp gasp.

  Sweat clung to his skin. His chest felt tight, heavy—like something had slipped through his fingers, even though he couldn’t remember holding it.

  Tears blurred his vision.

  “…Just a dream.”

  But the feeling stayed.

  Kael stood and walked to the window.

  Moonlight spilled into the room, cold and silent. He opened the window and breathed in deeply, as if trying to wash something away.

  His reflection trembled in the glass.

  “I promise,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else,

  “I won’t let this happen again.”

  The night said nothing.

  But Kael didn’t look away.