Shirone had advanced to Class Five.
It was fortunate that Siana, who understood his unique study methods, became his assigned teacher.
Though the theoretical lessons grew even harder with the sudden leap in class level, Shirone stuck to his own approach.
Weekly written exams were key indicators of academic progress.
And at the end of each month, midterm exams updated the class rankings.
Class Five had 40 students.
Unsurprisingly, Shirone’s first written exam placed him dead last—40th place.
Siana had been concerned, but the distribution of Shirone’s scores was noteworthy.
Across 11 subjects, his average was 32 points—yet, astonishingly, each subject fell strictly between 30 and 33 points.
’Not focusing on a single subject... Does this mean his plan is working?’
In the second exam, his average rose to 34 points.
A 2-point increase might seem insignificant, but the fact that every subject improved by exactly 2 points was unusual.
The third exam followed a similar pattern—only this time, the rise was sharper, with scores between 36 and 39.
Siana sensed Shirone’s resolve.
’He has a clear goal. He isn’t wavering.’
Theoretical exams were crucial because they influenced one’s affinity with the Spirit Zone.
Though not a perfect measure, teachers considered 60 points the minimum threshold for spellcasting.
’If he raises his average by 10 points per month, he’ll be capable of basic magic in three months. If he keeps growing ...’
Shirone would master every officially recognized field of magic.
’Of course, that’s just an ideal scenario.’
Human aptitudes varied—people naturally excelled in certain subjects based on inclination.
But seeing every subject improve simultaneously filled her with strange anticipation.
’I’ll keep watching. At Class Five’s level, his average scores won’t make others dismiss him.’
Their ultimate goal was the graduating class, where specialization mattered most.
’What a mage needs is expertise.’
The royal family poured vast sums into maintaining the highest-tier magic systems, and thus, the most prominent mages in society were masters of a single field.
The state’s expenditures on mages were staggering—funding private labs, expensive magical devices, and rare materials—all because advanced magic’s profits far outweighed costs.
No one understood this better than the students.
Even in higher classes, they struggled to find their optimal specialization.
’In that sense, Shirone is safe.’
His peers already envied his teleportation magic, which rivaled specialists.
And Shirone himself felt drawn to photon-based spells.
’Photon theory isn’t just about knowledge. Much of it remains unverified. His insight will be a powerful weapon.’
Unlike Class Seven, Class Five had to think of magic as a career.
This was why Shirone’s peers no longer looked down on him.
Now well-adjusted to school life, Shirone’s social standing had improved dramatically.
Juniors greeted him during combined classes—including Mark, whose punishment had ended.
"Senior, I saved you a seat."
Though embarrassed by the gesture, Mark always claimed the spot beside Shirone.
As Class Seven’s leader, he likely wanted to flaunt their friendship—but since he’d stopped bullying others, Shirone took it as goodwill.
Then Seriel approached.
"There you are. Is there room for me?"
"W-Wow! Good afternoon, Senior!"
Mark shot up and bowed deeply at the Class Four prodigy.
Unfazed, Seriel waved a hand and sat beside Shirone.
"You seem down lately, Shirone. Well, with Amy gone, it’s only natural."
A week prior, Amy had passed her advancement exam and finally joined the graduating class.
Though she made it look effortless, Shirone knew she’d gritted her teeth through the ordeal.
"You must be lonelier than me, Senior. You two were always together."
"Well, yeah. But it’s fine. I’ll be joining the graduating class soon too."
Seriel was more than qualified.
Though Class Four had many elites, she was a genius in healing magic.
Given the graduating class’s focus on specialization, she might even have an advantage.
"It’s not like I’m following a friend, but watching Amy and you motivated me. I’d planned to coast after graduation, but... I’d feel wasteful ending my youth ."
"If someone of your caliber calls it ’coasting,’ what does that make me?"
"Haha, don’t worry. I’m not here because I’m special—anyone can graduate if they work hard. Shirone’s the odd one."
Flustered, Shirone waved his hands.
"No need to be modest. You’ll join soon too. Amy’s dead set on not letting you catch up, so... good luck."
A very Amy-like remark.
Remembering her desperate training, Shirone’s heart raced—until a thought struck him.
"Wait, what’s Amy’s specialization?"
"What? She didn’t tell you? You two really are boring."
"Haha, that’s just how we are."
"Well, it’s not finalized, but since her forte is fire magic and she excels at precision strikes, she’s considering sniper specialization."
"Snipers are military roles. So she’s planning to enlist?"
Understanding his concern, Seriel smiled.
"What can you do? You choose a career that fits your talent. And Amy has her family’s honor to uphold."
"But it’s dangerous. She might have to... kill people."
"In war, specialization doesn’t matter. Any mage gets deployed to the frontlines. Actually, the more elites like Amy we have, the stronger our deterrent."
Strong military power prevented war, and the Kingdom of Tormia was a formidable nation.
But Shirone couldn’t shake his unease.
Wars still raged elsewhere on the continent—if diplomacy failed, Tormia might join, forcing Amy onto the frontlines.
Unlike Shirone, Mark was intrigued.
"Senior Amy would be crazy popular as an officer. I can’t even picture it."
"Hahaha! That’s because you don’t know her. I think it suits her. Don’t worry, Shirone. Mages don’t fight in melee, and snipers focus on reconnaissance. Sounds cool, right? Amy the Beauty Spy."
Shirone let go of his pointless worries.
A genius who’d never lost first place surely knew what she was doing.
After combined theory class ended, students dispersed for practical training.
Shirone waved to Mark and Seriel before joining his classmates.
As the largest class, Class Five’s training sessions were always lively with chatter and pranks.
"Hey, Shirone. Burning up as usual, huh?"
Neid called out—a mischievous boy with emerald-green hair, the first to approach Shirone after his advancement.
From what Shirone had seen, Neid seemed friends with everyone.
Great for camaraderie, but Shirone wondered if he ever had time to study.
True enough, Neid’s grades were mid-tier, neither outstanding nor lacking.
His only standout trait was his lightning magic—a notoriously difficult affinity to master.
’Not an element humans are naturally attuned to.’
Neid’s dream was to become a magical inventor. Years of tinkering with machines had made lightning easier for him.
"Burning up? More like dying from how hard this is."
"Haha! That’s why I’m here. Struggling together beats struggling alone, right?"
He had a knack for putting people at ease.
Whenever classmates needed advice, Neid was their first stop.
Even during training, boys treated him like a safe haven, drifting over to chat.
Then two boys approached, bickering.
"Hey, hey! Shirone, settle this for us."
The portmanteau nickname made Shirone dispel his Spirit Zone and open his eyes.
One classmate leaned in.
"Between Teacher Ethela and Teacher Siana, who do you prefer? Wait, Shirone, you’ve got Senior Amy, so you don’t care, right? What about you, Neid?"
"Hmm, obviously Teacher Ethela. Not that Teacher Siana isn’t pretty."
"My man! Ethela’s the best. She’s got that youthful face but her body is... damn."
’Class Five really is different.’
Unlike Class Seven, romance was a universal interest here.
Not that Shirone wasn’t a normal guy.
’They’re both beautiful.’
Siana had a sophisticated charm, while Ethela’s glasses and petite frame evoked protective instincts.
’If I had to choose...’
As he pondered, the classmates suddenly scattered.
Turning, Shirone saw a glowering boy approaching—Iruki Merkodain, Class Five’s eccentric.
In a way, he was an outcast—but Shirone suspected he simply disliked socializing.
Yet even this loner had one friend: Neid, everyone’s buddy.
"What were you all talking about?"
"The usual. Who’s prettier—Teacher Siana or Teacher Ethela?"
The way Neid effortlessly included Iruki left Shirone impressed.
’...He’s really adaptable.’
"Ah, Shirone. Let me introduce you. This guy’s Iruki. An outsider in Class Five."
A month had passed since Shirone’s promotion, but this was the first time he had spoken directly with Iruki.
It wasn’t that Shirone had been avoiding him—it was just that Iruki skipped class more often than he attended.
"Hoh, Arian Shirone. Aren’t you the genius the school’s been eyeing? What an honor—I should jot this down in my diary."
Just from that first remark, Shirone understood why the others kept their distance from Iruki.
"Hi. I’m Shirone. Looking forward to working together."
"Kuku, a genius like you asking for favors? I’ve been watching you since Class Seven, you know. When you succeeded in Separation Form, when you crossed the Uncrossable Bridge—all of it."
"Huh? You’ve been watching me?"
That was when it clicked.
A thin, grating tone, like metal scraping.
It was the same voice that had encouraged him back in Class Seven, when the other children’s taunts had shaken his Spirit Zone.
"So, you were the one who cheered me on back then?"
"Cheered? Nah. I just said something because it was annoying. Didn’t like seeing you get pushed around by those brats."
Iruki brushed it off like it was nothing, but for Shirone, it had been a meaningful moment.
"Still, it really helped me."
At that, Iruki stared straight at Shirone.
"You’re a really boring kid, you know that?"
It was the first time anyone had ever called him that, and for some reason, it stung.
Neid quickly stepped in.
"H-Hey, Iruki! That’s rude, even if you’re getting thanked!"
Iruki tilted his head and turned away.
"Oh? I meant it as a compliment. Anyway, good luck. Though it won’t be easy—Class Five’s full of hardheads, kikikiki."
Neid called after him as he walked off.
"Hey, where are you going? Let’s train together."
Shirone stood there, mouth slightly agape.
He had never heard anyone call class "too lazy" in a magic academy.
How had someone even made it to Class Five?
"He’s... kind of weird."
"Sorry about him, Shirone. He’s not a bad guy once you get to know him."
"I know what you’re thinking. Still, digging deeper just tires us out. He’s a genius too—just a different kind than you. That’s the problem."
"Ah, you wouldn’t know yet."
Despite the label, Iruki’s grades were mid-tier in Class Five—about the same as Neid’s.
But no one underestimated him because he was the epitome of extreme specialization.
In subjects requiring emotion, like literature and art, he scored flat zeroes. But in calculation-heavy fields? He could ace them blindfolded.
At first, even the teachers had fought over mentoring him.
But his temperament was so eccentric that most had given up, leaving him to his own devices.
Yet, rumors said his mathematical prowess surpassed even graduates. Many predicted another promotion soon.
In short, while Shirone excelled balancedly in all subjects, Iruki buried his weaknesses under overwhelming strengths.
His specialty? Computational physics—a field only those with rare brain functions could master.
For example, calculating phenomena under extreme conditions like absolute zero or temperatures exceeding 100 million degrees.
Academia called brains like his "Servant Syndrome."
He could, within a minute, calculate the date 40,000 years from now.
Or, if he never slept, recite pi’s decimals for life.
A mind capable of mechanical calculations beyond human limits—that was Iruki.
Shirone’s expression turned blank.
If true, this was an insane talent.
"Then why is he still in Class Five? And how does someone get zeroes? Even guessing should net a few correct answers."
"Heheh, that’s the thing. He’s always . Like last month..."
Neid recounted an exam incident.