Nozomu headed to the academy as usual. When he stepped into the classroom, a few students who had arrived early noticed him—but their expressions immediately turned mocking. His desk was covered in cruel scribbles and slander. As he quietly wiped it clean, the people around him snickered.
This academy prides itself on thorough meritocracy. Winners and losers are distinguished with brutal clarity. In this class, the tenth-year students are undeniably the losers—the lowest rung in the grade. And as is common among the defeated, they seek out someone even weaker to vent their frustrations on.
Nozomu is treated like an eyesore in the class. No one speaks to him; if he tries to talk, he is completely ignored. The only exceptions are his homeroom teacher, Henri, and Mars—a troublemaker with a bad attitude. Even then, Mars only approaches to thoroughly knock him down.
"That's right~ That woman's got a killer body again..."
While chatting about vulgar nonsense, Mars and his two lackeys arrived. Spotting Nozomu, Mars approached with a wide, mocking grin. He was tall with a solid build. His bare face wasn't bad, but the sneering expression ruined any appeal.
"Hey, dropout. Came to waste time at the academy again? You'd be more useful cleaning toilets— at least that'd help us out."
"Hey Mars, cut it out. No one could use a toilet this guy cleaned."
"Yeah, how about we make him our training dummy? Perfect for testing new weapons."
Nozomu said nothing. This was simply the start of the usual insults, the usual laughter, the usual daily routine.
That morning's class was magic theory, taught by Dr. Norn, the public health physician.
"As you all know, magic is a technique that uses one's mental power to excite magic elements within the body and manifest various phenomena. However, the target isn't limited to your own magic elements—it can also draw from the external world, meaning the magic elements in the atmosphere. Large-scale magic almost always relies on external sources. This is called ritual magic, which originally stemmed from ceremonies to pray to spirits and gods. When many people pray in unison, it creates a powerful effect. This same principle forms the foundation of modern chanting techniques. Namely..."
She lectured efficiently, without waste or unnecessary tangents. Henri's classes had a relaxed, loose atmosphere thanks to his personality, but Norn's were the opposite—silent, tense, almost oppressive.
Nozomu took diligent notes on every word. Because his ability suppression severely limited practical magic skills, written exams were his lifeline. During the end-of-year practical exam in his first year, he had barely advanced by excelling in the supplementary written test. For most students, adding a written component made things harder—but for him, it was his last line of defense.
When the bell rang to end the lecture, class time finished and practical training began.
At Norn's call, the entire class moved to the training ground.
Once there, Nozomu watched the others demonstrate their magic while he immersed himself in the only training possible for someone like him: sensing and controlling the tiny amount of magic power inside his body.
People on this continent possess magical power to varying degrees, but Nozomu's was exceptionally low. It hadn't always been this bad—only after the ability suppression appeared did he lose the ability to cast even elementary magic. So he repeated basic control exercises endlessly, refining what little he had.
The students around him noticed and started laughing again. When Mars approached, he began hurling insults, complaining that Nozomu was disrupting the class.
"What, still doing first-year baby training? You're probably dead last again. Hahaha!"
Nozomu ignored the mockery and sank deeper into his training. At moments like this, their voices simply didn't reach him. When he focused intensely, the world around him faded away. This had been especially true during basic training—and it was exactly how he had been when he first met his master.
"...Hey, you ignoring me now?"
Mars's tone suddenly turned dangerous, irritated that Nozomu wasn't reacting. He had always craved attention and hated being dismissed—especially by someone he considered the lowest of the low. Still, Nozomu remained locked in his inner world, hearing nothing.
Without warning, a shockwave slammed into Nozomu from the side, sending him flying. Mars had unleashed wind magic—an "Air Burst" that released compressed air in a violent shockwave. He prepared to cast again, but before he could, Norn-sensei's magic struck the ground at Mars's feet, gouging a deep scar.
"That's enough. I will take the necessary disciplinary measures as a teacher."
The spell she used was "Air Arrow"—a beginner-level wind magic. Yet her casting speed surpassed Mars's, and its accuracy and power rivaled intermediate single-target spells. Clearly, her Air Arrow outclassed his Air Burst.
"Tch. Fine, whatever."
Mars spat the words and walked off, his followers trailing behind. The other students returned to their training.
"Are you all right?"
Norn called out to Nozomu.
"I'm fine."
He answered immediately. Being blown away by his master's training had made him unusually good at taking hits—it was one of his few "specialties." He resumed training without hesitation. This was routine.
"That kind of person will cause trouble no matter what. Henri-sensei is worried about you too. If you ever need anything, come to us."
Nozomu couldn't accept the kindness at face value. He could only manage a stiff, polite reply.
The next day was a school holiday. While most students enjoyed their short break, Nozomu headed to the commercial district for a part-time job arranged by the Adventurer's Guild. The guild handled jobs across cities, and Arcazam was no exception. Higher ranks could take on weak demonic beast subjugation under conditions, but with his low rank, he was limited to menial chores.
Today's task was simple luggage carrying. The commercial district received massive shipments from various countries, so extra hands were always needed. At the collection point, he greeted the foreman, received his load, placed it on the cart, and carried it to the destination with his partner. Today's deliveries were to a tool shop in the commercial district and a doctor in the craftsman district. Bulk purchases for store use meant few stops—they would finish quickly.
"Come to think of it, Nozomu, do you have a girlfriend?"
The sudden question caught him off guard.
"Huh... No, I don't. Why ask out of nowhere?"
His partner's eyes lit up, sensing an opening.
"No reason. Just curious if anyone likes you. Come on, spill it."
His partner was cheerful and not a bad person, but he could also be selfish and pushy—especially about gossip like this.
Every time the topic of "someone you like" came up, Lisa's shadow crossed his mind, and pain tightened his chest.
He'd been asked similar things before, but no one had ever noticed how much it hurt him back then.
"Hey, hey, tell me—is she beautiful? Cute?"
"...I'll go on ahead."
Nozomu quickened his pace. His partner kept pressing, but he ignored it. On the surface he deflected the questions throughout the job, but his expression remained tense and strained.
When the work ended, he collected his pay from the foreman and immediately headed home.
His family were ordinary farmers; he couldn't rely on them for money, so he had to support himself. Solminati Academy's tuition was reasonable for its prestige, thanks to funding from various countries. Securing talented personnel after the great invasion ten years ago was a matter of national survival. The academy was seen as a key investment—how many excellent graduates it produced would help determine each country's future strength. Nations competed fiercely to scout top students, offering generous conditions.
In Nozomu's grade alone, there were unprecedented standouts: five students had already reached A-rank. A-rank was typically reserved for first-class adventurers or royal guard knights. For teenagers to achieve it spoke volumes about their talent.
On the way home, he saw two familiar figures walking ahead—Ken Notice and Lisa Hounds. His former lover and his childhood friend.
They were clearly on a date. Ken laughed happily; Lisa looked equally joyful, leaning into him.
When Ken noticed Nozomu, he raised a hand in greeting. Lisa saw him too, but her face soured into a frown.
The sight made Nozomu's heart ache sharply.
"Hey, Nozomu. What a coincidence."
Ken spoke warmly. There was no trace of disgust on his face—unlike Lisa's. Even after the breakup, Ken still treated Nozomu the same way as before. It was complicated, but Nozomu felt a small relief in that consistency.
"Yeah... coincidence."
"It's been about three months, hasn't it? Our schedules just never line up."
"Can't be helped. Unlike me, you've got a lot going on."
"Yeah. The other day I asked Jihad-sensei for extra practice and ended up with a fever."
Ken gave a wry smile. Top students received high expectations—and appropriate rewards. Ken was one of the rare few at the academy who had reached A-rank, so he could receive personal instruction from continent-famous figures.
As they talked, Lisa interrupted from beside Ken.
"Ken, let's go."
She grabbed his hand and started walking. She didn't even glance at Nozomu—clearly unwilling to look at his face.
"Ah—"
Nozomu tried to call out, but her profile radiated rejection. In the end, he said nothing as she pulled Ken away. He could only stand there, frozen.
When he reached home, his heart still wouldn't settle. Why did she reject him so completely? He still didn't understand, and the feelings lingered unresolved.
Normally he could manage, but seeing Lisa at school or being asked about lovers stirred everything up again. He realized he was still dragging the pain behind him.
He remembered the moment of rejection clearly: her cold stare, the single word "Goodbye," and how she turned away without answering any of his questions. Since then, his emotions had remained frozen in place.