Kaelen stood before me on the podium, his scrawny frame violently trembling. The collective gaze of Elena Duval, Bart, and the rest of the 'debris' in Class 9 was heavily anchored upon me, silently praying for my humiliating failure.
To my augmented vision, Kaelen's ambient mana was bleeding from his vessel in erratic, highly unstable bursts—like pressurized steam hopelessly leaking from a critically fractured boiler.
"Observe this absolute nonsense," I stated, my voice saturated with freezing contempt as I gestured toward Kaelen's pathetic, sputtering aura. "Your esteemed, high-ranking professors have consistently instructed you that magic is an 'emotion'. A 'desire'. Instruct Kaelen to merely desire his mana to stabilize, and I statistically guarantee you he will continue to fail exactly as he has for the past three years."
I extended my right index finger. Using a microscopic thread of my own heavily suppressed mana, I actively rendered a glowing, three-dimensional holographic schematic in the air: a human heart strictly bound by a hyper-complex network of geometric piping.
"Magic is not a feeling, you pathetic scrap," I continued, pacing with an oppressive, tyrannical arrogance. "Magic is strictly 'Energetic Fluid Dynamics'. Your biological vessels are not divine, untouchable chalices. They are merely highly complex 'hydraulic systems'. The mathematical reason for your consistent failure is not a lack of raw power. It is severe 'frictional resistance' within your internal pathways."
Elena Duval's eyes narrowed into sharp slits. "Frictional... resistance?" she whispered, her aristocratic pride fracturing under sheer bewilderment. "What kind of absolute lunacy is this? Mana is a divine, spiritual energy!"
"And that exact, severely outdated logic is precisely why your 'advanced' spell was effortlessly dismantled by my microscopic water bullet," I cut her down with a glare so chilling it instantly silenced her.
I turned back to the room. "Listen closely. When mana travels through your biological pathways, it must adhere strictly to the laws of 'Laminar Flow'. If your internal flow becomes turbulent, your kinetic energy will violently collide against the walls of your own channels. It will entirely degrade into wasted thermal heat rather than materializing as a functional spell."
I casually placed my black-gloved hand directly onto Kaelen's trembling shoulder and passively engaged [Analytical Vision].
"Kaelen. You are attempting to aggressively pump your entire mana reserve in one massive, uncalculated surge. This is actively generating critical 'vortices' within your core," I stated, my voice echoing like the ticking of a flawless metronome. "Cease your pathetic 'desiring'. Focus entirely on 'Harmonic Frequency'. I require you to push your mana in heavily segmented pulses. Exactly 0.05 seconds between each pulse. Mimic the precise rhythm of an engine's intake valves."
"S-Sir... I don't understand—" Kaelen stammered, entirely paralyzed by terror.
"You are not required to understand. You are only required to execute the mathematics I am actively feeding you," I commanded.
Simultaneously, I discreetly channeled a microscopic fraction of [Sequential Cancellation] into his shoulder. I didn't dismantle his core; I acted as a systemic filter, surgically 'clipping' the erratic, turbulent frequency spikes that were catastrophically jamming his internal pathways.
Instantly, Kaelen's erratic aura violently shifted.
The chaotic, sputtering smoke bleeding from his pores rapidly condensed, forcefully snapping into a razor-sharp, hyper-focused thread of pure crimson mana. A sudden, blinding spark violently erupted from his palm.
BOOM!
A highly compressed sphere of pure thermal energy shot across the lecture hall, instantly obliterating the heavily reinforced training dummy at the far end of the room into burning, scattered shrapnel. It was a level of raw, destructive output that absolutely no student in the history of Class 9 had ever achieved.
A horrifying, graveyard silence detonated within the hall.
Bart physically fell out of his chair, staring at the burning wreckage in absolute, mind-shattering disbelief. Elena shot to her feet, clutching her temples as if her entire dogmatic understanding of reality was actively collapsing around her.
"This is the 'Engineering Theory of Mana Flow', you defective scrap," I stated, coldly dusting off my black leather glove before slowly returning to the center of the podium. "True power does not originate from crude volume. It originates strictly from 'System Efficiency'. Effective immediately, you are no longer mages. You are 'Energetic System Operators'."
I leaned forward, my glowing purple eyes sweeping over their paralyzed faces.
"Now... which of you wishes to permanently cease existing as biological debris and finally begin functioning as a proper machine?"
One by one, trembling hands began to slowly rise into the air. Even Elena Duval, her aristocratic pride completely shattered by undeniable empirical data, hesitantly raised her hand. Their eyes no longer held contempt. They were filled with an absolute, terrifying reverence for the "Trash Professor" who had just handed them a master key that absolutely no one in the entire history of the Royal Academy had ever possessed.