The morning sun peeked over the Academy's towers, glinting off the floating mana nodes that still hovered from Lucien's previous "practice exercise." Birds flitted around nervously, muttering something about never signing up for magical school again.
Lucien reclined on a hovering cloud of golden mana, teacup in hand, notebook lazily writing itself. "Ah… Adept II. Time to see how far chaos and comedy can take skill."
Rorio, sprawled beside him, yawned. "Mostly dangerous. Slightly edible. Excellent snack potential. Shall we begin?"
"Patience, dear scholar," Lucien replied. "First… spectacle."
The courtyard transformed. Platforms now swiveled on multiple axes, bouncing with unpredictable elasticity. Floating elemental nodes orbited the arena like glittering moons, occasionally colliding and exploding into harmless—but highly dramatic—flurries of mana.
Aria stomped her foot, flames flickering across her knuckles. "I swear… if that silver-haired frost guy—" She pointed at Darius, standing immaculately, "—does anything remotely graceful again, I'm going to set this whole place on fire!"
Kellen, wobbling atop a water jet, groaned. "I just… I just want to survive this without making a fool of myself."
Myra hovered elegantly, wind currents stabilizing her hair and clothes. "You'll survive… probably. If you cooperate, at least."
Darius, meanwhile, surveyed the arena with his trademark icy precision. "This chaos… will not affect my performance."
Lucien twirled his teacup, eyes glinting. "Chaos… is the seasoning of skill. Observation, dear students. And… misfortune. Always include misfortune."
Rorio barked. "Mostly seasoning. Slightly unfortunate. Excellent ratio."
Ryn Althas leaned against a floating platform at the edge of the arena, silver hair glinting. His calm, effortless presence contrasted sharply with the frantic chaos of Aria, Kellen, and Myra. He casually deflected a rogue fire node with a flick of mana, saving Kellen from an airborne somersault that could have been humiliating—and slightly crispy.
Aria muttered under her breath, cheeks heating. "Lucky…" She glared at him. "And infuriatingly competent."
Ryn's only reply was a smirk. "Skill is a form of humor… if delivered correctly."
Lucien chuckled softly from above. "Ah… subtle chemistry, accidental heroics, and comic frustration. Excellent."
Lucien snapped his fingers, activating the first round of ridiculous hazards. Platforms rotated in unexpected directions. Fire nodes lunged with comedic timing. Wind nodes pushed students into perfectly harmless—but extremely dramatic—falls.
Kellen, panicking, summoned a water bridge… which promptly sent him sliding straight into Myra's tornado. Myra twirled in a panic, trying to stabilize herself, while Darius easily glided past both, manipulating frost shards like a conductor with an orchestra.
"Observe, Rorio," Lucien murmured, swirling tea. "Skill is measured in precision. Chaos tests patience. Comedy… well… it tests dignity."
Rorio wagged his tail. "Mostly dignity. Slightly shattered. Snack ratio: excellent."
Darius' icy glare swept over the students, and with a few swift gestures, he conjured precise ice traps. A fire node bounced harmlessly off his shield and ricocheted toward Kellen, who shrieked as he tumbled across a rotating platform.
Lucien raised a brow. "Ah… the rival effect. It improves comedy by roughly 300%. And tension. Mostly tension."
Darius ignored him. "Errors are unacceptable."
Ryn, watching quietly, casually redirected a rogue mana orb before it could hit Aria. She glared, half-annoyed, half-grateful. "I'm not helpless!"
Ryn smirked. "No, but you are entertaining."
Lucien clapped, letting a harmless burst of glitter fall like confetti. "Observe! Competition, chaos, and mild humiliation. A perfect recipe for growth!"
As if on cue, a toppled crate spilled pastries into the arena. Students instinctively paused mid-fall to grab one, flames, water, and wind, briefly forgotten.
Lucien sighed, pleased. "Always plan for snacks. Even amidst chaos, catastrophe, and rivalries."
Rorio dove headfirst into a croissant. "Mostly strategic. Slightly delicious. Excellent ratio."
Darius did not touch the pastries. "Focus."
Aria muttered. "You are impossible."
Lucien's eyes twinkled. "And hilarious. And utterly necessary for growth."
As the students stumbled, tumbled, and occasionally landed elegantly atop platforms, Lucien swirled his tea, surveying the chaos like an artist admiring a masterpiece.
Darius, icy and precise, began to recognize the students' potential as real rivals—and perhaps more importantly, that the chaos Lucien orchestrated was not to be underestimated.
"Observe, Rorio," Lucien said, floating lazily above the courtyard. "Growth is not born from safety… but from controlled chaos, ridiculous hazards, and the occasional pastry."
Rorio wagged his tail. "Mostly enlightening. Slightly terrifying. Snack ratio: critical."
Lucien grinned. "Tomorrow… Adept III. More chaos. More hazards. And I think it's time Darius learns just how… absurd I can get."