The Grand Training Hall of Aldren Academy was a marvel of magical architecture. The floor was made of smooth, interlocking gray stones that seemed to absorb sound, creating a focused, almost sacred silence. The ceiling was an illusionary sky, a perfect replica of the heavens outside, complete with the twin moons hanging like celestial pendants. It gave the impression of practicing under the open sky while being protected from the elements.
Students were arranged in neat rows, a sea of black and silver uniforms. At the front stood Professor Elara. She was an elf, and it showed in her ageless features, pointed ears, and an aura of serene authority that felt as ancient as the forest she was born in. Her silver eyes swept across the class, missing nothing. When she spoke, her voice was not loud, but it cut through the hall with crystalline clarity.
"Mana is the lifeblood of our world," she began, her hands clasped behind her back. "It is creation and destruction. Power and chaos. Many of you nobles believe that a powerful Mana Core and a strong affinity are all you need. You are wrong."
Her gaze seemed to linger on me for a fraction of a second, and I felt a familiar pang of Lucian's insecure pride. I forcefully pushed it down. She was right. The original Lucian was the poster child for that kind of foolish arrogance.
"Raw power without control is like a flood," she continued, "destructive to your enemies, but just as likely to drown yourself. Today, we return to the most fundamental of all skills: Manifestation and Control. You will channel your mana, give it form, and hold it. Nothing more."
A simple task, yet it was the bedrock of all spellcasting. A low murmur went through the students. For the more advanced among them, this was child's play. For beginners, it was a frustrating hurdle. For the original Lucian, it was a source of constant embarrassment.
"You will form a simple orb of your elemental mana, the size of your fist. You will hold it stable for a count of one hundred. No chants for this exercise. Only gesture and will," Elara instructed. "Vrael, you may begin. Show them."
Damien stepped forward, a picture of effortless grace. There was no hesitation. He raised one hand, his fingers curling in a simple but precise runic gesture. A wisp of inky blackness leaked from his palm, coalescing with impossible speed. Within a second, a perfect sphere of shadow mana hovered above his hand. It was flawlessly round, utterly stable, and seemed to drink the very light around it. It didn't flicker or waver. It simply was.
As I watched, my Soul Resonance activated. I could feel the intent behind his magic. It was cold, precise, and utterly dominant. He wasn't asking the mana to take form; he was commanding it, bending it to his will with the casual authority of a king. It was beautiful and terrifying. He held it for the full count without a bead of sweat, then dismissed it with a flick of his wrist.
Professor Elara gave a single, curt nod. "Perfectly executed. The standard to which you should all aspire."
Next, her eyes fell upon the hero. "Aris. You."
Leonidas stepped forward, looking far less confident than Damien. He took a deep breath, his expression one of intense concentration. He made the same gesture. A brilliant, warm light bloomed in his palm, far brighter than Damien's orb was dark. But it was unstable. It pulsed and flared, spitting out tiny sparks of light, its edges flickering like a nervous flame. He was pouring too much raw power into it. It was strong, undeniably so, but it was wild. He managed to hold it, but by the end of the count, his brow was slick with sweat.
"Commendable power, Aris," Elara commented, her tone neutral. "But your control is lacking. You are trying to force a river through a garden hose. Refine it."
Leonidas nodded, looking slightly chastened but determined.
One by one, other students tried, with varying degrees of success. Then, Elara's silver eyes found me. "Greyfall. Your turn. Try not to disappoint me more than usual."
A few nearby students snickered. Lucian's reputation preceded me. I felt a flush of heat rise in my cheeks—a phantom echo of the original's shame. I ignored it and stepped forward, my heart pounding. This was my first real test.
I raised my hand, mimicking the gesture I'd seen Damien and the others perform. I focused inward, trying to draw upon the Awakened Core in my chest. I felt a sluggish pool of shadow mana and tried to pull it, to guide it down my arm and into my palm.
Forma. I focused on the mental command.
A puff of black smoke coughed from my hand, smelling faintly of ozone. It swirled for a second before dissipating into nothing.
Failure. Complete and utter. The snickers grew louder.
"Again, Greyfall," Elara's voice was sharp, laced with impatience.
I tried again, focusing harder, gritting my teeth. This time, a small, distorted glob of shadow mana appeared. It looked less like an orb and more like a writhing clump of tar. It trembled violently for two seconds before imploding with a soft pop.
The shame was suffocating. This was the reality of Lucian Greyfall. He was weak. His control was pathetic. This was why he clung to Damien—because he had no strength of his own.
But I wasn't him.
Don't get angry. Don't get frustrated. Analyze, I told myself, the voice in my head calm and detached, the voice of Aiden Verne. What did I do wrong? I performed the gesture. I focused my will. Why did it fail?
I closed my eyes, ignoring the whispers of the other students. Instead of trying to force the magic, I expanded my Soul Resonance. I didn't focus on the people themselves, but on the flow of their mana. I had felt Damien's and Leonidas's. Damien's was a perfectly engineered canal, efficient and cold. Leonidas's was a raging, passionate river. Both had a clear path, a defined intent from core to palm.
When I tried, my mana flow was a hesitant, sputtering trickle. It was like I was trying to push water through a blocked pipe. The original Lucian had never learned the proper internal pathways. He just threw his energy at a spell and hoped his affinity would do the work.
He never thought about the how. But I could.
I took a deep breath and raised my hand a third time. Professor Elara looked ready to dismiss me, but I ignored her. I closed my eyes again. This time, I visualized it. I pictured my Mana Core not as a pool, but as a spring. I visualized a clear, open channel running from that spring, through my torso, down my shoulder, along my arm, and into the center of my palm. I wasn't commanding the mana anymore. I was guiding it. I was showing it the way.
Flow.
A thread of shadow energy, thin but steady, traced the path I had imagined. It pooled in my palm, and I focused my will not on power, but solely on stability. Be still. Be whole.
A small orb of shadow mana flickered into existence.
It was tiny, barely the size of a marble, and its surface wavered like a reflection in a disturbed pond. It was pathetic compared to Damien's perfect sphere. It was a candle next to Leonidas's bonfire.
But it was stable. It held.
I opened my eyes, my entire focus on this tiny, fragile creation. The hall had fallen silent. I started counting in my head. One… two… three… My arm trembled from the strain. This level of fine control was mentally exhausting. Ten… eleven… twelve… The orb flickered, threatening to die. I poured more focus into it, reinforcing its shape, my brow beaded with sweat. Thirty… thirty-one…
At the count of forty-three, it finally gave out, dissolving into a harmless wisp of smoke.
I stood there, panting slightly, my arm aching. I had failed the assignment. But it was the most successful failure of my new life.
I looked up at Professor Elara. The impatience in her eyes was gone, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise. She studied me for a long moment, her elven gaze seeming to peer right through me.
"Your form is crude, your power output is laughable, and your stamina is abysmal, Greyfall," she said, her voice as stern as ever.
My heart sank.
"However," she continued, a single, sharp word that cut through my disappointment. "For the first time, you used your mind instead of just your ego. You were controlling your mana, not just throwing it. There is a spark of potential there. Do not let it die out."
It wasn't praise, not really. But coming from her, it felt like a royal commendation. A few of the students who had been laughing now looked at me with confusion. Even Damien, from his position at the front, cast a brief, calculating glance in my direction. My Soul Resonance felt the faint flicker of his curiosity. It was a minuscule change, but it was there.
The class was dismissed soon after. As we filed out of the hall, a heavy exhaustion settled deep in my bones. True mana control was more draining than any physical exercise I'd ever done.
"A flicker of competence, Lucian." Damien's smooth voice came from beside me as we walked back towards the dorms. "Don't let it be a one-time occurrence. I have no use for a sidekick who can't even perform the basics."
His words were a backhanded compliment wrapped in a threat, classic Damien. The old Lucian would have preened at the attention and promised to do better.
I just nodded, my expression carefully neutral. "I won't," I said, my voice quiet but firm.
He gave me one last look, his golden eyes unreadable, before turning his attention forward.
I may have only held that orb for forty-three seconds. I may still be the weakest student in the advanced class. But as I walked in the shadow of the villain, for the first time since arriving in this world, I didn't feel like I was walking towards my doom.
I was taking my first step away from it.