The class didn't pay attention to what I had just said—they were too absorbed in their cultivation. I didn't mind. The early stages of cultivation are straightforward and practically guaranteed, right up until one approaches the Foundation Realm.
"So this was the method you used to become stronger?" Ferdinand Reias muttered, forming a sphere of mana in his palm. "It feels as though my magic has grown slightly more potent."
"But," he added, turning toward me with a focused expression, "you mentioned we're merely in the first stages. Does that mean there are multiple stages to this power?"
"There are," I replied calmly, watching the rest of the class with half-lidded eyes. "You mages categorize advancement through mana rings, and knights progress through the sword stages. For us martial artists, we classify growth through realms."
"Realms?" Ferdinand echoed.
"There are seven Mortal Realms," I explained, folding my arms behind my back. "All of you are within those now. Upon reaching the Ascension Stage—the pinnacle of mortal achievement—you may then step into the Immortal Realms."
Ferdinand's brow furrowed slightly. "And what stage have I reached?"
"Feeling your qi, I'd place you at the Golden Core stage—firmly within the Mortal Realms," I answered without hesitation.
At that moment, a low murmur rippled through the room. Confusion spread as several students struggled, unable to continue their breakthroughs. They had experienced multiple successive leaps in cultivation, unaware that the qi required for each step increased exponentially. Now, having exhausted their internal reserves, they were stuck.
I stepped forward and halted the session. Quietly, I handed each of them a breathing technique tailored to draw in ambient qi while sleeping. It would allow their bodies to recover without consciously cultivating.
The next morning, an unexpected sight greeted me. Everyone—especially Lyla, Ahren, and Delia—radiated an aura brimming with fresh qi. The technique had worked better than expected. All three were now standing on the threshold of the Foundation Realm, just one step from a crucial breakthrough.
I resumed the day's lessons, this time delving into magic—at least, the kind described in the academy's library. I had my own unique magic, but putting it into words was... difficult. My methods were different, rooted in qi and martial understanding rather than the structured system the academy used.
"Magic," I began, addressing the class, "is the art of shaping the world using mana and the mind. A skilled magician can produce fire from thin air by altering the properties of ambient mana."
I paused and let that sink in before continuing.
"Mana is typically neutral but can be influenced by the surrounding environment. In a cold region, mana may develop a cold attribute. Similarly, a mage can manipulate the mana inside their body, using incantations and mental imagery to control its properties. That's why reading is so important for young mages—language refines your mental grasp on mana manipulation."
The origin of magic, I told them, lay in drawings—runes etched by an ancient man whose idle scribbles once burst into flame. Later, a woman expanded on his discovery, attempting to activate spells with spoken descriptions rather than symbols. This dual approach—runes and verbal incantations—became the foundation of modern spellcraft, now heavily researched by organizations like the Magic Tower.
"By releasing a mana particle with a specific attribute," I explained, "you can trigger a chain reaction, converting nearby neutral mana into your desired element. That's the core of spell casting. But I don't use mana... I use qi."
And qi, unlike mana, can manipulate everything.
As the theory class ended, students were free to seek out specialized teachers based on elemental affinity. Miss Clementine, for example, came from a family renowned for their mastery of fire. Yet, some students lingered behind, hesitant to leave.
Among them was Delia North.
"Professor Angel," she said, stepping forward with rare seriousness in her tone. "I would like to learn ice magic from you."
I raised an eyebrow. That caught me off guard. My 'ice magic' wasn't truly magic at all—it was a yin-based martial art derived from a technique I'd found in the pages of a powerful woman's tome. A drop of her essence, modified by my hand. She had once been a formidable entity who specialized in immobilization—her stuns lasting entire minutes.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Isn't there a professor here who specializes in ice?"
"There is," she admitted, "but the technique you used on me… it didn't melt. Even under intense fire magic. Our family's inherent technique isn't even close in strength."
Inherent Magic was sacred—passed from generation to generation and forbidden to outsiders. For Delia to even compare it unfavorably to what I had shown her meant she was ready to forsake her family's legacy for something greater.
Before I could respond, Lyla called out, "We want to learn from you too, Professor Angel!"
"I'd… also like to learn," Ahren added shyly.
Others chimed in. Their eagerness was surprising. Cultivation was foreign to their original path, yet they still desired to pursue it under my guidance. If their resolve was that strong, I wouldn't turn them away.
Delia stepped forward again, this time lowering her head. "I'll sincerely apologize for everything. For the way I treated Lyla… for the bullying. If those are your conditions for teaching us, I'll change."
I gazed at each of them, one by one. Their eyes held determination—not just curiosity, but hunger. I nodded.
"I wouldn't be much of a teacher if I turned away willing students," I said. "But you'll follow my instructions to the letter. No complaints. No shortcuts. Is that clear?"
"I accept," Delia said without hesitation. So long as I can surpass my siblings, I'll endure anything.
"Me too," Lyla nodded.
"I-I'll do it too," Ahren added, voice trembling slightly.
One by one, the remaining seven followed suit.
I led them to a clearing in the forest just beyond the academy's bounds. With a few swift gestures, I raised a soundproofing formation around us, ensuring no distractions would reach our training ground.
"Before we begin," I said, grinning, "throw your wands away."
A beat of silence followed. Their faces were priceless—shock, confusion, even horror.
"A wand is a beginner's tool," I continued. "You won't need them for what I'll be teaching. You're going to learn chantless magic."
"That's impossible!" Ahren blurted. "Chantless casting is only for master-level mages!"
"Impossible?" I repeated with a smirk. "That's why we train. All of you will learn chantless magic if you endure."
I clapped my hands. "But before that, introductions. One by one—your name, and your magic affinity. Let's begin."