I glanced down at myself.
The air around me shimmered, thick with unstable energy. Golden tendrils of power coiled tightly around my body, swirling like miniature whirlwinds. The hum of it buzzed in my ears—low, crackling, and wild—like something barely held in check.
This wasn’t just magic.
It felt like a storm waiting to break loose.
Is this... really magic?
I couldn’t help but wonder, staring at the radiant cyclone wrapped around me.
It was nothing like I had imagined.
When I turned toward Professor Alice Draken, her sharp eyes were already fixed on me. She looked dead serious, her gaze locked on the chaotic aura spiraling off me.
"Professor," I asked, unsure, "is this magic?"
She tilted her head slightly, expression unreadable. "Yes... and no."
What the hell did that mean?
I blinked, confused.
Noticing my expression, she let out a long, weary sigh.
"Rin Evans," she muttered. "You’re the complete opposite of Ryen. He’s methodical, precise. You? You just threw yourself into magic like you were challenging it to a duel."
I frowned. "But I succeeded, didn’t I?"
"You did," she admitted. "Which makes you a genius... and a problem."
Her tone wasn’t mocking—it was concerned. Genuinely concerned.
My eyes narrowed. "So, what’s the issue?"
"What did you visualize when channeling magic?"
"I imagined... pulling power from a golden sea. Like I was dipping into an endless ocean of energy and just letting it flood through me."
She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "That explains it."
"Explains what, exactly?"
"If I hadn’t interrupted, you would’ve continued converting all your Primal Qi into magic—without even realizing it."
I froze.
"...What?"
"You’re not using magic the standard way. Most students pull from internal pools. But you? You’re draining yourself. Your Primal Qi—your life force, essentially. You’re converting it into raw magic."
That hit me like a slap.
Sure, I had the [Eternal Return] Trait. I knew it granted me an absurd amount of Qi regeneration. But that didn’t mean I could afford to burn through it like a maniac.
Not casually. Not recklessly.
Heroes enhanced their bodies with magic all the time. That was normal. But this? This was different.
"Is that... bad?" I asked cautiously.
Alice gave me a look. "It’s suicidal if you don’t know what you’re doing."
Well, great.
So I was a genius, but one who could accidentally vaporize himself.
She softened, just a little. "Look. You don’t need to use magic the way others do. Yours is... unique. Dangerous, yes, but potentially powerful if controlled."
"So, what now?" I asked, eyeing her with mild suspicion.
Alice Draken smiled—soft, radiant, and entirely too suspicious. She floated off the ground, her feet lifting lightly as if gravity was more of a polite suggestion than a law. Then, with a childlike hum, she reached out and gently patted my head.
I stiffened.
She leaned closer, still smiling. "Like I said, you don’t need to worry. I’ve been where you are once, believe it or not. It’s frustrating, confusing... but with just a little effort, I promise I can help fix it."
I blinked, then nodded slowly. Her tone, oddly enough, carried a strange kind of sincerity. Reassuring. Calming.
Which only made it more unnerving.
After all, this was Alice Draken—the woman who, in the original story, betrayed Velcrest Academy and brought an entire battalion of cursed puppets to its gates.
And yet, she wasn’t completely evil.
That was the complicated part. Ryen hadn’t wanted to kill her. Even at her worst, there was hesitation in his blade. She was charming, brilliant, and, under all the madness, maybe even trying to do what she thought was right.
But in the end... she still died.
By Ryen’s hand.
"Anyway," Alice continued, spinning in midair with a mischievous twirl, "how about becoming my assistant professor?"
She said it with a grin so sweet it could melt stone. Her wide eyes sparkled, and her voice rose with a playful lilt that could probably convince a weaker soul to sign a contract in blood.
Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t one of those souls.
I schooled my face into calm neutrality. "Thank you, Professor, but I’ll have to decline."
She pouted dramatically. "Aww, what a shame. And here I thought you’d say yes."
Nope. I’d seen enough fantasy stories to know how this ends. One moment you’re holding a clipboard, and the next, you’re a living mana battery trapped in a coffin of runes. No thanks.
Alice was many things. Adorable? Sure. Genius? Without question. But at her core?
She was a highly unpredictable, possibly sociopathic witch with way too much power and a questionable moral compass.
Yeah... I liked being alive.
"Anyway!" she clapped her hands, her voice suddenly loud and theatrical. "Everyone, we’ve had the privilege of witnessing two contrasting styles of mana control—orthodox and completely chaotic—and from two lovely students, no less! Let’s give them a round of applause!"
I blinked.
Right.
Class.
I’d forgotten we weren’t alone.
Around me, the students hesitated. A few awkward claps broke out here and there, mostly led by Ryen. He looked genuinely concerned, bless his heart. Always the good guy.
The rest?
Yeah. Not so supportive.
Half the room was glaring at me with thinly veiled hostility. The other half looked vaguely stunned. And then there were a few... others—weirdos—who looked way too invested in the sight of Alice patting my head.
Ugh. Creeps.
I resisted the urge to scoot away.
Seriously. I get it—she’s cute and all, but have some damn self-control.
If the glares could kill, I’d be a smoldering pile of ash. And yet here I was, standing there like some head-patted chosen one.
Just my luck.
Ryen gave me a weak thumbs-up from the back.
I sighed.
Another normal day at Velcrest Academy... if your definition of normal includes being publicly patted by a potentially evil professor, fending off weird classmates, and trying not to die before finals.
A break would be nice.
A break indeed.