The room flickered to life.
Small flames danced unsteadily in some palms.
Wisps of wind sputtered.
A few students produced shaky motes of light.
Most of them stumbled, their mana wavering as they tried to maintain control.
Only a handful stood out with steady, composed spellwork: Isolde’s water sphere spun smoothly in her hand, William shaped a clean arc of wind.
And Lyra summoned a solid, unwavering flame that glowed a deep orange.
Eveline watched them all, a slow smile forming.
Alright, let’s get to work.
Elion raised his hand, inhaling slowly as he prepared his own spell.
His mana felt... fuller. Smoother. Sharper than before, but also a lit bit chaotic no doubt from the sudden spike in levels.
He whispered the incantation under his breath.
"Tidal Wave."
A broad wall of water surged into existence in front of him, rippling with a deep, rolling momentum.
It curved high, shimmering faintly with light-blue threads of mana.
For a moment, he blinked, surprised.
It was... good.
Better than he’d ever cast it.
The edges were crisp, the density strong, and the mana flow steady.
But only for a moment.
A wobble rippled across the top.
Then another.
Then the entire wall collapsed inward with a splash, breaking apart into glowing motes of mana that floated up and vanished.
Elion exhaled sharply through his nose.
Still unstable.
His improvement, though real, wasn’t enough to hide the truth: his mana control was mediocre at best.
He frowned at the space where the spell had been.
Going up six levels helped... but I still can’t control the damn thing for long.
The power is there.
The mana is there.
But the precision? No.
A quiet thought slipped in.
I wonder if the system has something that can improve my mana control... A skill? A technique? Anything.
Before he could pursue that, Eveline’s voice cut through the room.
"Good. Very good. Now, stop."
All spells winked out at once.
She raised one finger.
"Let’s talk about why half of you nearly blew yourselves up just now."
A few groans rose, but everyone leaned in when she began speaking.
Eveline had that effect; she knew how to make even theory sound dramatic.
"There is a principle in mana control most apprentices never grasp. Mana does not respond to strength. It responds to clarity. The clearer your intent, the cleaner your control. You do not force mana. You guide it."
Murmurs followed.
Even Elion found himself listening more intently.
Eveline paced slowly in front of them, her heels clicking on the polished floor.
"Now, this brings us to spell limits. I’ve noticed several of you trying to push mana beyond your bodies’ current capacity."
She narrowed her eyes. "Which is idiotic."
Everyone straightened immediately.
She continued.
"Each rank of mage determines the highest spell level you can cast safely. The system enforces this, not me. Not the Academy. The world itself."
She raised her hand, conjuring a light-blue diagram in the air.
"Listen carefully. These numbers matter. Disregarding these constraints might cost you your capabilities as a mage. Worst-case scenario, your life."
"Apprentice Mages, like ninety percent of you here, " she began, "Level 1 to 20. You are only capable of casting up to level 1 and level 2 spells. Going higher will rupture your mana core."
A few of them swallowed hard.
"Novice Mages—Level 21 to 30—can cast up to level 3 spells."
"Adept Mages—Level 31 to 40—up to level 4 spells."
"Advanced Mages—Level 41 to 50—up to level 5 spells."
She looked around, making sure they were following.
Then her smile sharpened.
"High Mages... now that is where things become interesting."
She tapped the air. The diagram flared brighter.
"Level 51 to 60. Capable of up to level 6 spells. These individuals are considered strategic-class mages in the military. One High Mage can reshape a battlefield."
Several students stared at her in awe.
"And yes," she added smugly, "most of the faculty, myself included, are strategic-class mages."
A chorus of "whoa" swept the room.
Eveline preened for a moment, then continued.
"Next: Arch Mages. Level 61 to 70. Access to level 7 spells. These mages are classified as disaster-class assets. Their spell output can wipe an entire city off the map."
The room went dead silent.
Elion felt a chill crawl down his spine. Arch mages can do that?
"And then," Eveline said softly, reverently, "we have Grand Mages. Level 71 to 80. Able to cast level 8 spells."
She paused, letting the weight of that settle.
"They are known as catastrophe-class assets. Their mere presence can warp mana in an entire region. If you are unfortunate enough to fight one..."She lifted a shoulder."...they can rob you of control of your own mana."
A few students gasped aloud.
Only then did she continue.
"And finally... Sages."
Everyone held their breath.
"Sages, Level 81 to 90, classified as king-class. Their strength does not fit onto our scale. You cannot fathom it."
Her voice lowered. "Every ruler of every kingdom, human, elven, dwarven, beastkin, is required to be at this rank. Without exception."
The class was stunned.
Elion found himself wondering...
Will I ever reach that? Even a fraction of that? With the system? easy.
Eveline clasped her hands behind her back and began pacing again.
"Now. You must understand something important. The higher your level... the larger the gap becomes."
She pointed at a random student. "If it takes you ten years to reach level thirty..."
She snapped her fingers.
"...it may take you another ten years to reach level thirty-one."
"What?!" Gasps rippled across the room.
Most of them had never even heard this.
Apprentice mages made up the majority of the population; few ever reached higher ranks.
"And the reason," Eveline continued, "is simple. Your body undergoes a qualitative transformation every time you cross into a new rank. Your mana capacity increases. Your soul strengthens. Your physical form adapts to channel spells of greater power."
She lifted a warning finger.
"Yes, there are myths of mages casting spells above their rank. Do not"—her eyes narrowed dangerously—"entertain such thoughts."
A heavy silence fell.
"It will damage your mana core." Her tone sharpened dramatically. "PERMANENTLY."
The entire class inhaled sharply at once.
She nodded once, satisfied they understood.