— It depicts a mage formation. But based on what you said earlier, the mages should all be at roughly the same level of strength. At the same time, it's impossible to perfectly assess each individual's magical power, which means someone will inevitably be weaker. The minus signs marked on the board likely represent the mages who are weaker than the rest. — I said thoughtfully, studying the board before shifting my gaze toward the professor.
As Professor Chyo'Lin listened to my words, she occasionally nodded, her eyes moving between me and the board.
— You are partially correct, stufon Trey. The minus signs represent the mages supporting the stronger ones by transferring their mana reserves to them. As everyone knows, a mage's mana is not limitless. — Chyo'Lin said.
There was a trace of hidden sorrow in her voice.
— But if a support mage runs out of mana, what do you think happens to them, stufon Trey? — the professor asked.
Falling into thought, I began analyzing her words. If a user runs out of mana, what happens next? I considered several possibilities, but the most logical conclusion seemed to be that a person would simply remain without mana temporarily until it naturally recovered.
— If a mage runs out of mana, they can no longer transfer it to another mage and are forced to wait until their reserves recover before doing so again. — I answered uncertainly, once more studying the board.
— No. If you completely exhaust all of your mana, cracks will begin forming on the sphere inside your body, and eventually, it will shatter. — Professor Chyo'Lin said, unable to hide the pain in her voice.
Her words shocked me, and likely the entire class as well.
Could reckless, constant use of magic truly strip a mage of their power forever?
— But don't worry. As everyone knows, when you expend nearly all of your mana, your body begins experiencing magical starvation. That is your warning. However, if you ignore even that and continue using magic, the same thing that happened to me may happen to you as well. — Chyo'Lin said painfully, staring at the board.
There was deep sorrow in the professor's eyes, as though she were reliving an old wound that had never fully healed.
— You're probably curious how I lost my magic, aren't you? — Professor Chyo'Lin asked the class, gesturing for me to sit back down.
Watching nearly everyone nod in unison, the professor let out a deep sigh and stood motionless for a few seconds, staring at the board with a distant expression.
— Like all of you, I graduated from this academy. I wasn't in an elite class, but I was among the top ten strongest stufons. After graduation, I was offered a position in the Kingdom of Myoshin. — Professor Chyo'Lin said in a nostalgic tone.
Like the other stufons, I listened carefully to her story. The professor's experience was invaluable to us, and the fact that she had chosen to share something like this might one day help someone here avoid making a similar mistake.
— After arriving in the Kingdom of Myoshin, I was introduced to the king and queen. A few years later, the kingdom began experiencing crop failures. At first, no one at court seemed concerned. — Chyo'Lin continued.
Lost in her memories, she absentmindedly ran her hand across the board, smearing the chalk.
It was hard for me to imagine something like that happening in the Krey Empire. It wasn't as though there were no problems there, but during my childhood, most of them had passed me by unnoticed.
— Another year later, farmers and peasants began turning to the lords governing those lands. And when there is no harvest, who gets blamed? Naturally, the farmers and peasants. — Professor Chyo'Lin continued, lowering her hand from the board and turning back toward the class.
— The lords petitioned the capital to send mages to aid their territories. Without much deliberation, the king and queen assigned the matter to me. — she said with a short laugh.
From her voice, it was clear how unpleasant these memories were for her, yet despite that, the professor continued, her gaze moving from one stufons to another.
— As a court mage, I could not refuse a direct order from the king and queen. After traveling to the drought-stricken region, I met with the local lords, and together we inspected the farms and settlements. — Professor Chyo'Lin said, clenching her hands so tightly that poorly concealed anger had already begun slipping into her voice.
Like the rest of the stufons, I still couldn't imagine exactly what she had faced. But from her tone alone, it was obvious the story was approaching its most painful moment.
— After inspecting the farms and settlements, I realized there was only one way to help the region restore its harvests and resume paying taxes to the treasury. After returning to the capital, I reported everything to the king and queen. They requested the casting of a supreme spell. — Professor Chyo'Lin finished sadly.
— Since I could not cast such a spell on my own, I had to appeal to the Council of Mages. They debated my request for a long time, but ultimately agreed. Now, I understand it would have been better if they had refused back then. — Professor Chyo'Lin continued.
— The mages arrived in the Kingdom of Myoshin rather quickly. Since I had no experience supporting supreme spells, I was assigned to the mana transfer group, supplying the mages directly maintaining the spell itself.
She fell silent for a moment, as though reliving that day all over again.
— During the preparations, everything went smoothly. But once we began transferring mana, there was a strange sensation, as though part of the magic was flowing somewhere else.
The professor slightly tightened her palms.
— And I wasn't the only one who felt it. The others also noticed that some of the mana seemed to be flowing in another direction. But by then, we could no longer stop the spell, so all we could do was continue supplying mana to those maintaining the incantation.
The classroom was utterly silent.
— After several hours, I was already feeling severe exhaustion. My fingers were growing colder and colder, my breathing was becoming uneven, and we expected the spell to be completed at any moment. But judging by the faces of the mages casting it, we understood it was still far from finished.
Chyo'Lin's voice became noticeably quieter.
— We continued transferring mana. Many mages were already barely able to remain standing. Some, as far as I remember, even lost consciousness. Because of this, our task became even harder, as we had to compensate for those who could no longer continue.
She closed her eyes for a second.
— The other mages and I could feel our strength reaching its limit. Then one of the participants suddenly released an enormous surge of mana. You're probably wondering what happened next, aren't you? — Professor Chyo'Lin asked.
Like the other stufons, I silently nodded. We weren't simply listening to a story—we were witnessing the very moment that had changed her entire life. And who knew what awaited each of us after graduation.
— When complete mana exhaustion occurs, regardless of race, a person loses consciousness. But if mana transfer or spellcasting continues even after that, the sphere begins to crack, followed by the release of all mana still remaining inside.
Her voice was calm, but beneath that calmness lay old pain.
— Before my eyes, humans and elves began releasing enormous volumes of mana, regardless of whether they were conscious or not. Then a massive discharge occurred. Like the others, I was already severely exhausted. At some point, I felt my sphere begin to crack… and then it burst.
Not a single sound could be heard in the classroom.
— By that point, the spell had finally been completed. But the number of casualties far outweighed the benefits we had achieved. — finishing her story, Professor Chyo'Lin looked at the class.
I couldn't help but wonder what I would have done in their place.
I wasn't sure I could have sacrificed my own magic so selflessly for the sake of another kingdom.
— Like many others who lost consciousness, I was sent to the capital of Myoshin, to a magical hospital. I awoke there. The king and queen refused my services, since I was no longer a mage and had become an ordinary mortal. Later, I was offered a position here—to guide future mages. Our lesson has come to an end. You are all dismissed. — Professor Chyo'Lin said with longing for days long gone.
The stufons began gathering their belongings and leaving the classroom, but I remained seated, still lost in thoughts about her story and what I myself would have done in such a situation.
— stufon Trey, the lesson is over. I recommend you gather your things and head to your next class. — Professor Chyo'Lin addressed me after noticing I still hadn't moved.
Hearing her voice, it felt as though I had returned to reality. Rising from my seat and heading toward the door, I caught myself thinking about the one question that had been bothering me this entire time.
— Professor Chyo'Lin, you said you felt your mana being transferred somewhere else. Did you report that to anyone? — I asked, stopping at the classroom exit.
The professor turned toward me and studied me carefully for several seconds before nodding.
— Yes. I reported it, as did the other mages who participated in the ritual. We all gave a detailed account of everything that happened. The Council of Mages sent search teams to investigate what could have been absorbing such enormous amounts of mana, but they never found anything. — Professor Chyo'Lin answered my question.