Roran didn't waste another second. He spent the last few hours of daylight in the library, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, searching for the loophole he needed. He found it in a dusty paragraph about Mana Core Irregularities, in the Peripheral Siphon.
It was a slow, forgotten method for fragile cores. Instead of pushing mana straight into the center, he would guide it in a wide, slow loop around his core, using his body as a temporary shield. It was inefficient, but it worked. His MAGICAL POWER: brave heart pulsed, setting a steady, unbreakable rhythm for the slow-moving mana. It was painful, but it was progress.
Roran began living a double life.
By Day: He was the lazy, quiet student everyone expected. He sat in classes, took notes on history and basic spell casting, and smiled weakly when people talked about the semester exam. Liam, his loyal friend, covered for him, telling teachers Roran was resting or studying in his room. Liam brought him food and worried constantly.
By Night: He was a machine built for pain.
Every night, Roran returned to the abandoned training annex. He pushed his body to its absolute limits, driven by the memory of Tarian's fist and the S-level monster's claw.
1. The Peripheral Siphon (Mana Training): Roran would sit on the cold stone floor for hours, guiding the mana around his core. The process was agonizingly slow. Every loop of mana was a small victory, but the strain on his weak body was immense. His entire skin felt like it was constantly being pricked by needles. He pushed until he coughed blood, but he never stopped until the system dinged.
NOTIFICATION!
Mana Circle (1.01 → 1.02). Mana Circle (1.02 → 1.03).
The progress was tiny, sometimes taking two full weeks just for a 0.01 increase, but it was steady.
2. Physical Training (The Sword): His other weakness was his body. His Strength 12 and Defense 7 were a joke. So, Roran picked up the heavy steel training sword. He swung it until his hands were raw and blistered, focusing on perfect form and slow, powerful movements. He worked on simple squats and shield lifts, building muscle in the dark while the rest of the Academy slept. He did not stop until his limbs shook and collapsed.
He knew that even if his Mana Core grew, a weak body would not survive a real fight.
Tarian Vesper would occasionally find Roran, usually in the halls, and mock him. "Still here, Ashborne? Counting down the days?" Roran just lowered his head and walked past. He saved his answer for the exam.
Three and a half months into the four-month deadline, Roran was a ghost of his former self. He was thinner, his eyes carried permanent dark circles, and he moved with a constant, quiet exhaustion. But inside, his brave heart was stronger than steel.
With one week left until the exam, Roran sat in his room, focusing on his final mana circulation. He pushed one last time, ignoring the burning pain, pulling the faint silver energy into his final loop.
DING!
The blue screen flashed, brighter than ever before.
NOTIFICATION!
Mana Circle (1.99 → 2.00). New Rank Achieved: Mana Circle 2. Core Stability Increased.
CORE STATS UPDATE: | STAT | VALUE | | :--- | :---: |
| Strength (STR) | 15 (Due to Physical Training) |
| Agility (AGI) | 10 |
| Defense (DEF) | 11 (Due to Repeated Mana Siphon Stress) |
Roran stared at the screen, a small, tired smile touching his lips. He had done it. Against all odds, against Tarian, against his own weak body, he had reached the minimum required strength. He was officially no longer a failure.
The Practical Exam: The Crushing Blow
The day of the final semester practical exam arrived.
Students gathered in the massive main arena, but the usual Earth Elemental challenge was replaced by something else. Master Kratos, the stern physical trainer, announced: "Due to exceptional performance, the final challenge will be a Dueling Match to test real combat progress. Our top student in this year's class will serve as the opponent: Tarian Vesper!"
A wave of shocked murmurs swept through the crowd. Tarian, confident and arrogant, easily formed a deep gold light around his fist. His silver aura had deepened.
Tarian Vesper: Mana Circle 3.
He had reached a higher rank than expected, instantly changing the stakes from an exam to a public humiliation. Tarian caught Roran's eye and smirked, raising three fingers this time.
Roran felt a brief moment of panic. The gap between Circle 2 and Circle 3 was a chasm, not a step. But he remembered the S-Level monster, and his brave heart hammered against his ribs. I won't run.
Liam grabbed Roran's arm, his face pale. "Roran, you can still withdraw! He's too strong!"
Roran simply shook his head, placing his hand over his new Mana Circle 2 core. He stepped into the arena.
"Let's make this quick, shame of Ashborne," Tarian sneered, launching a flurry of attacks.
Roran fought back with desperation, relying on his slightly improved Strength 15 and Defense 11. He moved quickly, deflecting a couple of blows, surprising Tarian. He was tough, much tougher than Tarian remembered. Roran even managed to channel his Mana Circle 2 silver light into his training sword.
The fight lasted less than a minute. Tarian grew tired of the resistance. He stopped playing, gathering all his Circle 3 power into one dark, focused fist. The mana around his hand looked less like light and more like solid rock.
"This is where your dreams end, failure!" Tarian roared.
He launched the attack, aiming straight for Roran's Mana Core the energy stone in his chest. It was a move designed not to win the match, but to destroy a person's future.
Roran threw up his sword in a useless defense. The gold-rock fist slammed into Roran's chest like a battering ram. The force drove all the air from his lungs. He felt a sharp, impossible crack inside him, followed by a sudden, terrifying emptiness where his mana should have been.
He collapsed, the world spinning into blackness.
The last thing Roran saw, hovering above his face as the pain took him, was the terrible, familiar blue screen.
FATAL ERROR!
Mana Core: SHATTERED.
Magic Status: IRREPARABLY DAMAGED.
MAGICAL POWER: brave heart remains.
The terrible message was burned into his mind. His dream was shattered. He thought, was I born to be weak? Is this all I ever was? He closed his eyes and fainted, the cheers of the crowd turning into a distant, mocking buzz.