Chapter 19
Lucas walked off the training grounds without another word, his long coat fluttering with each step as his mind spiraled in dozens of directions.
He left behind Mike, his assistant Professor, to oversee the class while he pursued a storm of ideas and untested theories.
There was no time to waste—his thoughts had become obsessions, and he needed to confirm whether the impossible could be made real.
As the silence left in his wake settled like dust, Mike stepped forward and clapped his hands, commanding attention.
The man didn't carry the same air of dominance as Lucas, but his reputation was enough to quie.
"Alright, stop whatever it was you were trying," Mike barked, arms crossed. "I'm not him, and I'm not going to stop a magical backlash if one of you decides to blow your hand off trying to mimic something you don't understand."
Several students chuckled nervously.
"Instead," Mike continued, "practice your own spells. Focus on how your mana moves. That's the first step in understanding what Professor Lucas was actually showing you."
The field buzzed with energy as students dispersed, forming small groups or standing alone.
Muted chants and glowing elements filled the air as they attempted basic spellcraft.
Fortunately, most were practicing low-tier spells that didn't distort the environment too severely—just enough for light to flash and wind to ripple.
Toward the edge of the field, a quiet but intense focus radiated from Ava Heart.
Ava stood still, hands loosely at her sides, her lips moving silently as she memorized the moving mana threading through her body.
The earlier lesson had rattled her.
She hated Lucas—detested everything he stood for—but there was no denying what he had shown them.
His control, his insight… it made her realize how little she actually understood about magic.
It burned her pride, yet opened her eyes.
Can I even beat someone like that?
She clenched her fists.
No. I will. I have to.
Her concentration was broken by soft footsteps and the faint sound of silk brushing against grass.
A girl approached—elegant, poised, and unmistakably noble.
Eleanor Vireon.
She had the cool grace of high blood: silver and black hair cascading down her back, her silver eyes gleaming like polished steel.
At just sixteen, her beauty was already turning heads.
Pale skin like fresh snow, and a figure far beyond her years.
Her presence demanded attention, but Ava gave her none.
Eleanor stopped a few steps away, her arms folded casually. "Can you move a little?" she asked in an even, almost friendly tone.
"I want to try a bigger spell. I think that's the best way to understand what the Professor was doing."
Ava didn't even glance at her. "No. Just find another place."
Eleanor's smile tightened. "There's no other spot where Professor Mike can keep an eye on us. He said to stay within his view."
Ava inhaled slowly through her nose, then stepped back five meters, her voice clipped. "Is this enough?"
Eleanor gave a slight nod. "Yes. And next time, stop being so stubborn. But… I get it. Being a fatherless child must make you defensive."
Ava froze.
Her head slowly turned, her expression unreadable—but her eyes were cold fire. "Take that back."
Eleanor blinked, seemingly innocent. "Did I lie? Aren't you fatherless?"
Ava's voice was still calm, but her mana spiked. "My father isn't dead. So mind your words."
Eleanor gave a light laugh, covering her mouth with her fingers. "A mage with a shattered core in a coma is dead, Ava. His heart might still beat, but… let's not pretend he's coming back. Be realistic."
The world shifted.
Ava didn't reply with words.
Instead, light exploded around her hands.
[Light Spell: Brilliant Spear.]
[Light Spell: Reinforcement]
A golden sheen wrapped around Ava's limbs as light surged through her muscles.
Without hesitation, she burst forward like a beam, her body moving faster than the eye could track.
At the same moment she jumped, her legs tucked midair, she twisted her torso and brought down the glowing spear of light in a deadly arc toward Eleanor.
Eleanor didn't flinch.
Her face remained stoic, lips curved into a faint, smug smirk.
[Ice Spell: Ice Barrier]
A translucent wall of jagged ice rose instantly between them.
The Brilliant Spear collided with the barrier in a sharp crack, triggering an explosive discharge of energy that blew back the surrounding students.
Boom!
The ground trembled, and the shockwave forced many to shield their eyes or stagger away.
Mist filled the air as the heat of Ava's light spell clashed violently with the freezing magic of Eleanor's defense.
Visibility dropped, but Ava didn't stop.
[Light Spell: Bolts]
Streams of piercing light flashed from her fingertips, slicing through the mist toward Eleanor's last known position.
But Eleanor danced between them, her movements clean and precise.
She raised her arm and encased her fist in a sharp coating of ice.
With a casual swing, she punched the incoming bolts, shattering them with brute force and mana control.
"Is that all?" Eleanor said coldly, brushing shimmering fragments of light off her arm. "I expected more from a commoner with a Tier 4 talent. Or is your upbringing slowing you down?"
Ava clenched her jaw, breathing hard as the mist cleared.
The insults didn't matter—not now.
What mattered was finishing this.
They both moved their lips at the same time.
[Light Spell: Greater Brilliant Spear]
[Ice Spell: Uprise]
The ground hummed.
Ava summoned a radiant spear larger and denser than before—its tip gleamed with overwhelming power, humming with refined light mana.
Simultaneously, ice erupted from beneath Eleanor's feet.
Spiked pillars shot forward in brutal, jagged lines—dozens of frozen spears aiming to skewer Ava where she stood.
They launched their attacks.
But before either spell could find its mark, the mana in the air twisted.
The space around them shimmered, then cracked like glass.
Both spells crumbled mid-air, their cores unraveled by an unseen force.
A surge of pure mana swept over the field.
In the next instant, square barriers of golden-blue mana formed around Ava and Eleanor.
Thick chains wrapped around their arms and torsos, forcing them to stillness.
The spells were elite—precise and overwhelming.
They didn't just bind; they suppressed the flow of mana itself.
Mana Spell: Chains and Prison.
The caster didn't need to be announced.
Everyone felt his presence before they saw him.
Lucas stepped into the training field, eyes glowing faintly, his aura coiled like a predator ready to strike.
His deep voice cut through the air like a blade.
"You two dare fight in my class?"
His tone was even—but laced with fury barely contained beneath the surface.
The weight of his mana pressure slammed into everyone at once.
The students dropped to their knees, some gasping for breath.
Even the strongest among them—Tier 1 Adepts—could barely stay upright.
The gap in power was insurmountable.
Lucas was a Tier 3 Archmage, and to him, the entire field was filled with insects making noise in his garden.
Ava gritted her teeth. Eleanor, for the first time, looked nervous.
Sweat dripped down both of their brows as the weight of Lucas's anger bore down on them.
"Class is over," Lucas said, his voice like thunder muffled beneath silk. "Let me deal with these two first."
"Yes, Professor!" the rest of the students chorused in unison, almost like a survival instinct. As soon as his pressure lifted, they scrambled to leave the field, some even running.
Lucas turned to Mike, who had arrived moments earlier and had watched it all unfold with a tense jaw.
"Thanks, Mike. Let's go to my office. We'll decide what to do with them there."
Mike nodded crisply. "Understood, Professor. I'll also inform the other instructors—they won't be attending their usual classes for a while."
Without another word, the three of them left the field—the students long gone, the air still buzzing with leftover mana.