Chapter 39: First Class (5)
The words Mana Infusion hung in the air like an incantation.
We stood in a half-circle around the dummy Alastor had just cleaved in two. Its mithril-reinforced frame lay smoldering, smoke curling from the gash in its chest. That was the power of one clean strike infused with mana.
Every cadet's face carried the same expression: hunger.
The hunger to prove themselves.
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"Line up," Alastor ordered. "Show me what you've got. One by one. Don't hold back, or I'll know."
The first noble boy stepped forward nervously, clutching his longsword. He inhaled sharply, focused his mana into the blade, and swung.
CLANG—!
The weapon bounced uselessly off the dummy's torso, leaving nothing but a scratch.
The boy grimaced, sweat dripping down his face. Alastor snorted.
"You call that infusion? That was more like dribbling water onto a sponge. NEXT!"
The cadet shrank back in shame, cheeks burning red.