The morning arrived not with a gentle dawn, but with the sharp, resonant chime of a mana-infused bell that echoed across the entire campus. The sound seemed to vibrate in Kai's very bones, a clear and undeniable summons. There would be no sleeping in at the Academy of Arcanis.
In their room, the atmosphere was a mix of nervous energy. Joren was already up, practically bouncing on his feet as he strapped on his simple leather armguards.
"First day of getting our butts kicked! You guys ready?" he asked, his grin wide and infectious. "I heard the Combat Fundamentals instructor, Vorna, once fought a Stonehide Lizard with her bare hands. This is going to be awesome."
Page, on the other hand, was the picture of calm preparation. She was already dressed in her simple initiate's robes, a fresh inkpot and a neatly bound notebook sitting on her desk. "I'm more interested in Basic Mana Theory with Professor Theron," she said, her eyes alight with intellectual curiosity. "His work on the resonant frequencies of elemental mana is groundbreaking. They say he can tell what kind of spell you're casting just by the hum it makes in the air."
Kai listened to them, a knot tightening in his stomach. He had survived the wilderness, but this was a different kind of jungle, with rules he didn't understand. He felt like he was about to take an exam for a class he'd never attended. He pulled on his own simple training clothes, the fabric coarse but sturdy.
"Let's just try not to get expelled on the first day," he muttered, only half-joking.
Their first class was Basic Mana Theory, held in a grand, amphitheater-style lecture hall that could have seated hundreds. The tiered stone benches curved around a central dais, where glowing runes and magical diagrams hovered in the air, shifting and changing as the professor spoke.
The instructor, Professor Theron, was an elderly man with a long, white beard and robes so dark they seemed to drink the light. His eyes were sharp and piercing, and he spoke with a dry, precise voice that demanded absolute attention.
"Mana is not a club to be swung wildly," he began, his gaze sweeping over the sea of new faces. "It is the lifeblood of the world, an intricate tapestry of aetheric currents and resonant channels. To wield it, you must first understand it. Today, we begin with the absolute basics: sensing your own internal mana channels."
He instructed them to close their eyes, to breathe, to feel the flow of energy within their own bodies. Around Kai, a low hum began to fill the room as students started to successfully channel their mana. Faint glows of blue, green, and orange light began to shimmer around their hands.
Kai closed his eyes and tried. He reached inward, searching for the warmth, the tingling energy he had felt when he used his powers. But he found… nothing. There were no channels, no currents, no inner river of power. For him, mana wasn't a flow to be guided; it was a resource, a number in a stat block that he simply willed into existence. He could create a barrier, he could coat his fists in energy, but he couldn't feel it the way Theron was describing. He was a complete blank.
Page, sitting beside him, had a serene expression on her face, a soft, scholarly blue light pulsing gently in her palms. On his other side, even Joren, who claimed to hate theory, had managed to produce a faint, earthy-brown glow around his knuckles.
Kai felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He was a fraud. He was surrounded by people who could feel the music of magic, while he was deaf.
"You, in the third row," Professor Theron's sharp voice cut through the air. "The one who looks like he's about to be sick. Tell me, what is the primary difference between an elemental channel and a non-elemental one?"
Kai's eyes snapped open. The professor was staring directly at him. Every head in the lecture hall turned. A few rows ahead, he saw Kaelen lean over to a friend, a smug smirk on his face.
Kai's mind was a complete void. He had no idea. "I… I don't know, sir," he stammered, his cheeks burning with shame.
Professor Theron's disappointment was a palpable force. "As I thought," he said with a sigh. "Power without knowledge is a danger to yourself and others. Perhaps you should spend more time in the library and less time daydreaming."
The rest of the lecture was a blur of humiliation. Kai didn't dare meet anyone's eyes, the quiet snickers from Kaelen's row feeling like tiny daggers in his back.
Their second class, Combat Fundamentals, was a welcome escape. It was held in a massive, open-air training ground filled with sparring circles, weapon racks, and heavily armored instructors. The air smelled of sweat, steel, and turned earth.
The instructor was a tall, muscular woman with a network of scars on her arms and a no-nonsense look in her eyes. This was Instructor Vorna. Her voice was a low growl that carried easily across the field.
"Theory is for the mages in their towers!" she barked, pacing in front of the assembled initiates. "Out here, we learn with our blood and our bones! Your first lesson is simple: show me what you've got. We're doing sparring evaluations. I'll call your names, you'll be paired up. The goal isn't to win; it's to show me you know how to fight without getting yourself killed in the first ten seconds."
Joren was in his element. He was paired with another swordsman and moved with a natural, joyful energy, his blade a blur of quick, efficient strikes that kept his opponent constantly on the defensive. He was clearly a natural.
Then, Instructor Vorna's eyes landed on Kai. "Kai Ardent! You're with Silas."
A student from a few rows over, at least a head taller than Kai and built like a young bull, stepped forward. Kai's system immediately flashed his stats.
[Name: Silas] [Level: 9]
Kai's stomach dropped. He was being pitted against someone three levels higher than him.
The moment the spar began, the difference was painfully obvious. Silas was fast and skilled, his wooden training sword moving with a precision that Kai couldn't hope to match.
He was being completely outclassed.
Think, Kai, think! he screamed at himself. He remembered Iris's assessment of Kaelen: He relies on raw power, not technique. Maybe this Silas was the same. He couldn't win with skill. He didn't have any. But what he did have was endurance.
He changed his strategy. Instead of trying to attack, he focused every ounce of his concentration on one thing: defense. He brought up his Barrier. It was his only real skill.
Silas's sword crashed against the shimmering shield. The barrier held. Silas struck again, and again, his attacks raining down on Kai. Each blow sent a jarring shock through Kai's body, and he could feel his mana draining, but he held his ground.
"Fighting like a turtle, are you?" Silas grunted, his attacks becoming more frustrated. "Are you just going to hide behind that shield all day?"
That's exactly what he was going to do. Kai grit his teeth, pouring his mana into the barrier, reinforcing it with every ounce of his will. He watched Silas's movements, not to find an opening, but to anticipate the force of the next blow. Silas was strong, but he was wasting his energy, throwing powerful, predictable strikes against a wall.
Minutes stretched on. Silas was now panting, his swings growing slower, sloppier. The other students had stopped their own spars to watch the strange spectacle: a high-level student unable to break the defense of a clumsy, lower-level initiate.
Finally, Silas roared in frustration and put all his strength into one final, massive overhead swing. The blow crashed against Kai's barrier with the force of a battering ram. The shield shattered, the feedback sending a wave of pain through Kai's body. But the attack had cost Silas the last of his stamina. His sword arm dropped to his side, and he stood there, gasping for breath, completely spent.
The spar was over. It was a draw.
Instructor Vorna walked over, her expression unreadable. She looked at the exhausted Silas, then at the bruised but still-standing Kai.
"You fight ugly, boy," she said, her voice a low growl. "You've got no technique, your footwork is a mess, and you swing that sword like it's a club. But you don't break." A flicker of something that might have been respect appeared in her eyes. "There's a use for that. Get back in line."
As Kai walked away, he heard the whispers from the other students. "Did you see that?" "He just tired him out." "He's like a wall." He had earned a reputation: the Unbreakable Tank. It was a victory, but a clumsy, embarrassing one.
That evening, back in the quiet of their dorm room, the day's events finally settled in. Joren was buzzing with excitement from combat class, while Page was already reviewing her notes from Professor Theron's lecture.
Kai sat on his bed, staring at his bruised knuckles. He had received his first, harsh lesson in humility.
In the world of theory and knowledge, he was a complete amateur, unable to grasp the very basics of the power he wielded. In the world of combat, he was a clumsy brawler who had only survived because his unique system gave him a ridiculously high health pool to hide behind. His strengths were a crutch, and his weaknesses were gaping wounds.
You see now, Kai? Iris's voice was gentle in his mind. Power is more than just a high number in a stat block. It requires knowledge, technique, and strategy. You have the first. You lack the other two.
He knew she was right. He looked over at Page, who was completely absorbed in her book, a faint glow of mana coming from the page as she deciphered a complex diagram.
"Hey, Page," he said quietly.
She looked up, her calm eyes blinking. "Yes?"
"Tomorrow… would you be willing to take me to the library with you?"
A small, surprised smile touched her lips. "I'd be happy to."
He had a long, long way to go. But as he lay back, the exhaustion of the day finally claiming him, he knew one thing for sure. He was ready to start learning.