The air in the dorm corridor was cool and still, carrying only the soft hum of the enchantments that powered the lights above. Ethan leaned against the wall just outside the room, arms crossed over his robe, letting the last few minutes wash over him.
The update had changed everything.
Not just the functions—the feeling. Something deeper had shifted. His mana felt lighter, quicker to respond. It didn't weigh on him like a resource to be rationed. It was there, like breath in his lungs, waiting to be used.
He opened the interface again, now sleeker, cleaner. He traced the edge of the new menu: Spellcrafting.
Inside it were two sections—Dismantle and Evolve.
Dismantling was locked. A note beside it read: Minimum spell comprehension threshold not met. Not surprising. Breaking down spells into parts wasn't something you just tried for fun.
But the Evolve tab was glowing faintly. Active.
He hesitated for only a moment before opening it.
His spells were listed clearly. Each with a level indicator beside them—all sitting at [Level 2] now.
[Fireball]
[Aqua Sphere]
[Gale Rend]
[Mana Reinforce]
[Healing]
[Elemental Body]
[Mana Sense]
[Mana Threading]
[Anchoring Step]
[Mana Storage]
Ten spells. A respectable list, maybe even impressive for someone who was a week behind. But it wasn't enough. Not when students around him had elemental specialties, personal techniques, even noble heritage backing them.
If he wanted to catch up—really catch up—he needed more than just practice. He needed to create something new. Something that only he had.
His eyes hovered on Elemental Body.
It was a powerful spell. Dangerous too, according to the system's notes. It let him attune himself to an element—but there was a problem. He didn't know how to attune. There was no button, no dropdown menu, no guide. Just that one ominous line: Overuse may result in backlash.
"I could figure it out eventually," he muttered under his breath, "but eventually might not come before the exam."
Still, the core of it—that ability to protect himself, to enhance his body beyond its limits—that was life-saving. Literally.
But it needs more.
The idea clicked into place, sudden but solid.
If Elemental Body required an elemental affinity to activate properly, maybe he didn't have to discover one from scratch. Maybe he could fuse the spell with one of his elemental abilities—and cheat the process a little.
He scrolled through his options.
Fireball. No. Too risky. Too volatile. And if someone used water against him? Game over.
Aqua Sphere. Better control, but too slow. And if he came across an ice mage, he'd probably be frozen solid before he could counter.
Then his eyes landed on it:
Gale Rend.
Wind.
Unpredictable. Fast. Sharp. And unlike fire or water, not easily countered. It wasn't grounded, wasn't fragile. And most importantly—it didn't have a clear elemental weakness. Not in a straightforward duel, at least.
If I fuse these... I might get something I can actually rely on.
He selected [Elemental Body], then tapped [Gale Rend].
[Confirm Evolution Path: Elemental Body + Gale Rend]
This fusion will attempt to align your body with Wind. This is a one-time evolution.
Instability chance: Minimal.
Proceed?
He didn't hesitate.
"Do it."
The moment he pressed confirm, the world shifted.
A soft hiss filled the air, followed by a deep thrumming in his chest—like pressure building beneath his ribs. Light surged from the screen, forming a faint outline of a glyph in front of him—an intricate sigil that rotated slowly, humming with layered elemental lines. It wasn't fire, it wasn't water—it moved like motion itself, always swirling, never static.
The sigil drifted forward, inch by inch, and phased directly into his chest.
Ethan gasped. Not in pain—but shock.
Air around him bent. A sudden breeze kicked up inside the corridor, tugging at his robe and sending his hair whipping around his face.
He could feel it in his limbs.
Like his skin had become less solid. Like the borders of his body were... negotiable. His fingers felt light, his legs airy. The floor beneath him felt distant, like he was one bad thought away from floating.
Then the prompt appeared.
[Skill Evolution Successful!]
Congratulations. You have unlocked:
Zephyr [Lv. 2]
A soft gust of wind spiraled around him and vanished.
He stared at the message.
Core Ability: Your body instinctively disperses upon impact, becoming untouchable to most physical attacks.
Note: Attacks laced with strong mana may bypass this effect.
Caution: Requires brief time to re-materialize after heavy dispersal.
He swallowed.
"…This is insane."
A skill that made his body intangible. Or close to it.
He tried to move his hand through the air, and it felt the same. But a deeper layer of his senses—his mana—could feel something different. A low-level vibration. A hum. Like his body was synced to something less material.
He took a step forward.
He didn't float. Didn't flicker.
But he felt different.
Lighter. Quicker.
It was subtle—like wearing different clothes for the first time. Like waking up and realizing your body had healed overnight.
A small whisper of wind danced at his feet, then disappeared.
"Zephyr…"
He whispered the name, the word ringing with something familiar. Then his eyes widened.
"I know that name."
It wasn't a common term. Not in most spells. But in mythology? In ancient god-lore?
Zephyrus. The god of the west wind.
He remembered writing about it. About old pantheons and elemental figures for villains and ancient bloodlines. He'd dug deep into obscure references to make his world feel layered—real.
And now, the system had pulled one of those references from the darkest part of his lore.
It knows.
Not just what he had. But who he was.
And what he'd written.
His hands trembled, not from fear—but from possibility.
This wasn't just survival anymore.
This was power. Real power. Not in the explosive, flashy sense—but in the kind that changed rules. No first-year should have this. No student should be able to become untouchable.
Of course, it came with risks. He didn't know how long he could stay in this state. He didn't know how hard he could be hit before the reformation delay left him vulnerable. And if someone attacked with something that bypassed it—mana-infused strikes maybe—then what?
But right now, he had something no one else in the academy had.
And it wasn't borrowed. It wasn't handed to him.
He chose this.
Ethan took a breath and looked back toward the dorm door.
He'd fallen into this world expecting to die.
Now?
He had a reason to live.