The training grounds were quieter than usual.
Not empty — Ravenwood Academy was never truly empty — but quieter in the way a forest grows quiet before a storm. The afternoon sun hung low above the mountains, casting long shadows across the stone arena fields where students practiced their newly awakened elements.
Kura stood in the center of one of the smaller training circles, staring down at his hands.
Three elements.
Fire.
Earth.
Life.
At least… that was what the crystal had shown everyone else.
He flexed his fingers slowly.
"Stop staring at your hands. They are not special," Laila said.
Kura blinked and looked up.
She stood a few feet away, arms crossed. The other two students who had followed them earlier were there as well — the shy dual-affinity girl and the tall boy with a Life affinity.
The girl fidgeted with the sleeve of her uniform, her bangs covering half of her face.
"M-my name is Mira, by the way. Water and Wind," she said quietly.
Kura nodded politely. "I am Ku—"
"I know," she said quickly, then turned red with embarrassment.
The tall boy with unusually red hair stepped forward next.
"Ryoma. Life affinity," he said.
Kura tilted his head.
"Just Life?"
Ryoma gave a small nod.
"People always say it like that," he muttered. "As if healing is lesser."
Kura opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Laila clapped sharply.
"Introductions done. Now we train."
Kura sighed.
"Right."
Laila stepped back and gestured toward the open field.
"Show me a Tier-2 spell."
Kura confidently stepped forward—
Then froze.
Slowly, dramatically, he turned back toward her.
"I don't know how to cast a Tier-2 spell."
Silence.
Laila blinked once.
"Okay. I thought your spell backfired and you froze yourself."
"Soo… how do I do that?" Kura asked.
Ryoma blinked.
Mira looked confused.
Laila stared at him in complete disbelief.
"You are serious."
"I'm very serious," Kura said quickly. "I know basic casting theory, but nobody explained this tier thing to me."
Ryoma scratched the back of his neck.
"That actually makes sense. Freshers usually don't learn classification until after the aptitude test."
Laila dragged a hand down her face.
"Wonderful. The academy has a triple-affinity student and forgot to teach him how spells work."
Kura raised a hand.
"Hey, not my fault."
She exhaled sharply.
"Fine. Quick lesson."
She drew two lines in the dirt with the heel of her boot.
"Magic is divided into tiers. Tier-1 spells are basic. Minor manipulation. Small constructs. Simple shaping. They require imagination and mana flow."
She flicked her fingers.
A thin spear of ice formed in the air and shot forward, striking a wooden target with a crack.
"See? I pictured it. I pushed mana."
The spear melted moments later.
"But Tier-2 spells are different."
Her voice slowed.
"They require structure. A casting phrase. A command that tells mana exactly what form to take."
Ryoma nodded.
"Tier-1 is throwing stones into a pile. Tier-2 is building a house with a blueprint."
Kura scratched his head.
"…Then shouldn't it be possible to cast Tier-2 spells with enough mental power?"
Laila sighed so deeply it felt rehearsed.
"Of course you would ask that."
She folded her arms.
"In theory? Yes. In practice, the concentration required is absurd."
She paused.
"Most who tried melted their brains out through their ears."
Kura immediately lowered his hand.
"…I'll stick to words."
"Wise."
She stepped forward.
"Watch."
The air instantly grew colder.
Mira and Ryoma both stepped back.
Laila raised one hand.
"An intermediate Tier-2 spell."
She inhaled.
Then spoke clearly.
"Water, gather from the air.
Heed my call.
Freeze like the mountain snow…
and appear.
Ice Wall."
The air whitened with frost.
Moisture from across the field rushed toward her palm.
Then—
CRACK.
A massive wall of ice burst from the earth.
Eight meters tall.
Eight inches thick.
Mist rolled down its shining surface.
Kura stared upward.
"…Whoa."
Mira's jaw dropped.
Ryoma folded his arms, impressed despite himself.
Laila knocked lightly on the wall.
The sound rang like stone.
"That," she said calmly, "is what an intermediate Tier-2 spell looks like."
She pointed at Kura.
"And that is what you should be aiming for."
Kura looked at the wall.
Then at his own hands.
"…Right."
He crouched down.
"Let's try this properly."
He placed both palms on the ground.
"Earth… golem…"
Nothing happened.
Then the ground trembled.
Chunks of dirt rose as something clawed upward.
A rough humanoid shape forced itself from the soil.
Nearly two meters tall.
Packed earth and stone.
Uneven limbs.
A barely formed head.
But it stood.
Mira gasped.
"That's actually a Tier-2 spell."
Kura grinned proudly—
And the golem collapsed into a heap of dirt.
"…Never mind."
Ryoma laughed.
"You formed it."
Laila crossed her arms.
"Your control is terrible."
"Thanks."
"But your mana output is ridiculous."
Kura blinked.
"What does that mean?"
"That golem was oversized for a beginner summon."
Ryoma nodded.
"Most first-years make one half that size."
Kura stared at the dirt pile.
"Huh."
They trained until sunset.
Every golem Kura summoned was too large, too unstable, or both.
When he tried fire shaping, the flames either sputtered out or burst wildly sideways.
When he raised earthen shields, they were sturdy—but crooked.
Tier-1 spells came naturally.
Tier-2 spells came like a drunk horse kicking down stairs.
Mira helped with control exercises, using gentle spirals of wind to show him precision.
Ryoma taught stamina pacing.
"Don't dump all your mana at once," he warned. "You fight like a man trying to empty a bucket before it leaks."
Laila insulted him continuously.
"Your stance is awful."
"Your timing is worse."
"That was less a shield and more an aggressively shaped brick."
Oddly enough, her criticism helped the most.
By the time the sun disappeared, Kura was drenched in sweat and dirt.
He smiled despite himself.
For the first time since arriving at Ravenwood… he felt like he belonged somewhere.
The next morning Ryoma tossed him a wooden practice blade.
"Try attacking."
"With a sword?"
"Sometimes magic fails," Ryoma said.
"Comforting."
They sparred lightly.
Within minutes Kura was flat on his back.
"Okay," he groaned. "Definitely not a swordsman."
Ryoma offered a hand and pulled him up.
Kura winced.
A shallow cut had opened across his forearm.
"Hold still."
Green light flowed from Ryoma's palm.
Life magic.
The wound began to close—
Then Ryoma froze.
"…Wait."
Kura blinked.
"What?"
Ryoma slowly pulled his hand away.
The cut was already gone.
Smooth skin remained.
Mira stepped closer.
"You used a Tier-2 self-heal."
"I didn't cast anything."
Laila said nothing.
She was watching him very carefully now.
Ryoma shook his head.
"That shouldn't happen unconsciously."
Kura rubbed his arm.
"Well… maybe it was luck?"
No one answered.
The wind shifted.
Kura suddenly staggered.
Pressure built behind his eyes.
Mana churned beneath his skin.
The dirt pile from his last collapsed golem began to shake.
Ryoma stepped back.
"Did you cast something?"
"No!"
The soil lifted.
Cracked.
Then slammed back down.
The air snapped with unstable mana.
Then—
Everything stopped.
Silence.
Kura breathed hard.
"…What was that?"
No one had an answer.
But beneath the academy…
Within the ancient glowing roots threaded through the mountain…
Something stirred.
Something old.
Something that remembered this presence.
And somewhere in the wind…
a whisper nearly returned.
The next two days passed faster than Kura wanted.
Training became a cycle of bruises, frustration, and exhaustion.
Tier-1 spells came naturally enough. Sparks of fire, shaping earth, minor healing, simple control — those responded to him almost instinctively.
Tier-2 spells were another matter entirely.
Every golem he summoned either collapsed, attacked the wrong direction, or exploded into dirt after a few seconds. Structured casting drained too much mana, and the moment he tried forcing control, something strange inside him reacted.
The shaking ground.
The unstable surges.
The pressure beneath his skin.
More than once, the training field trembled without warning.
More than once, Laila had to drag everyone back before something burst.
She never said it directly, but Kura noticed the way she watched him now.
Carefully.
Cautiously.
Like he was both a person… and a lit fuse.
Still, he improved.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Undeniably.
He learned to summon smaller golems that could stand longer than five seconds.
He learned to launch controlled bursts of flame instead of accidental sideways explosions.
He learned to raise proper earth walls.
He did not learn how to stop healing himself by accident.
Laila called him talented.
Then immediately called him hopeless.
Mira quietly celebrated every success as if it were her own.
Ryoma beat him in sparring every single day and called it "character building."
Then the day of the Physical Examination arrived.
The grand arena of Ravenwood Academy overflowed with students packed into rising stone seats. Banners snapped in the wind. Professors stood along the upper platforms like judges overlooking a battlefield.
Some came to cheer.
Most came to watch someone fail.
Kura stood near the tunnel entrance, staring into the bright sunlight pouring across the arena floor.
His palms were sweating.
"This is stupid," he muttered. "Why is an exam inside a stadium?"
"Because suffering is more entertaining with an audience," Laila replied.
He looked at her. "That was a joke, right?"
She didn't answer.
Kura swallowed.
Laila adjusted the collar of his uniform, then stepped back.
"You remember what I taught you?"
"Run, panic, and cry?"
"Use Tier-1 spells first. Keep distance. Watch their footing. Don't overcast."
"Right. That too."
For a moment, her expression softened.
"If it gets bad," she said quietly, "withdraw immediately."
Kura blinked. "You sound worried."
"I am."
Before he could answer, horns blasted through the arena.
The announcer's amplified voice thundered overhead.
"FIRST-YEAR PHYSICAL EXAMINATION — MATCH THREE!"
The crowd erupted.
Laila folded her arms. "That's you."
Kura stared into the tunnel light.
"…Tell my future children I was brave."
"You'll need to survive first."
The announcer's voice boomed again.
"Shinjō Kura!"
The crowd immediately stirred.
"There he is!"
"The triple-affinity!"
"The sleeping corpse guy!"
"The Frost Witch's pet!"
Kura's eye twitched.
"I hate everyone here."
Laila smirked.
"Go."
He swallowed and stepped into the light.
The arena felt enormous.
Every eye in the stadium turned toward him.
Dust shifted beneath his boots as he walked to the center.
Across from him, the opposite gate remained shut.
His heartbeat pounded louder with each step.
The announcer's voice rang again.
"And facing Shinjō Kura…"
The gate began to rise slowly.
Metal groaned.
Heat poured outward.
The air itself warped.
A tall figure stepped through.
Orange hair.
Flames dancing across both hands.
A cruel grin.
Kura's soul nearly left his body.
"…No."
The announcer nearly shouted with delight.
"Senior combat specialist! Third-year elite rank!"
"RAGNAR BLAZE!"
The stadium exploded.
Students leapt to their feet.
Some screamed his name.
Others laughed in disbelief at Kura's terrible luck.
A few simply looked at him with pity.
The announcer continued mercilessly.
"Known for breaking twelve challengers in official duels!"
"Three opponents hospitalized!"
"Two nearly killed!"
"The undefeated flame beast of Ravenwood!"
Ragnar rolled his shoulders, fire coiling around his arms like living serpents.
Then he stopped only a few meters away and looked directly at Kura.
That grin widened.
"Oh good," Ragnar said loudly enough for half the arena to hear. "It's the boy clinging to Frost."
Laughter spread through the stands.
Kura stood frozen in place.
All color drained from his face.
His expression became one of pure, honest terror.
Behind him, near the tunnel entrance, he could hear Laila shouting furiously at the officials.
"Withdraw him from the match!"
"Are you insane?! He'll be killed!"
The officials shouted something back.
Kura didn't hear a word.
Because only one thought remained in his mind.
"…I'm going to die."