After the incident on the training grounds, nothing changed.
Classes continued.
Students laughed.
Instructors taught as if nothing had happened.
---
Kael understood it now.
The academy had already decided what he was the moment he entered F-Class.
Weak.
Worthless.
Disposable.
---
And because of that—
everything became his fault.
---
The realization stayed with him through every lesson.
Every hallway.
Every glance.
---
Even now, seated beside the classroom window as cold air drifted through the partially opened frame, Kael's thoughts remained fixed on the same thing.
---
> The outcome was decided before it started.
---
Instructor Vey's voice echoed faintly through the room as diagrams covered the board behind her.
"Mana flow destabilises when structure exceeds control."
---
Kael wrote every word down carefully.
Precise.
Organised.
---
Most students barely listened.
Several talked openly near the back.
Others stared blankly ahead, waiting for the lesson to end.
---
Kael kept writing.
---
His notebook rested open beneath his hand, pages filled tightly with observations and calculations accumulated over the past weeks.
There were no empty spaces left anymore.
Every margin contained additional notes written in smaller handwriting.
Mana compression theories.
Flow stability patterns.
Control adjustments.
Mistakes.
Corrections.
---
Because if nobody would help him—
then he would build everything himself.
---
The sound of quiet laughter pulled him briefly from his thoughts.
---
"He's writing again."
---
Kael ignored it.
---
"Does he ever stop?"
---
Another laugh followed from behind him.
---
His pen continued moving across the page.
---
Later that afternoon, classes ended beneath the dull grey light of evening.
Students flooded into the hallways immediately, conversations echoing endlessly through the academy corridors.
Kael walked silently through the crowd.
Books held against his side.
Notebook beneath them.
---
His grip tightened around it slightly.
---
It had taken time to organise everything properly.
Days.
Weeks.
Years.
---
Every page mattered.
---
He turned a corner—
and stopped.
---
Three familiar figures stood farther down the corridor.
D-Class uniforms.
---
Kellis Varn noticed him first.
A grin spread instantly across his face.
"Well, if it isn't F-Class royalty."
---
Brann Holt looked over next.
The irritation in his expression appeared almost immediately.
---
Kael recognised it.
Brann still hadn't forgotten the training grounds.
---
Rhett Kaine stood beside them quietly.
Watching.
---
Kael started walking again.
Calmly.
---
Kellis stepped into his path first.
"Where're you rushing off to?"
---
Kael shifted slightly to move around him.
Kellis mirrored the movement casually.
---
Brann's eyes dropped toward the books in Kael's arms.
Then lower.
Toward the notebook.
---
"What's that?"
---
Before Kael could react, Brann grabbed it.
---
Kael's movement stopped instantly.
A small reaction.
Sharp.
Immediate.
---
Rhett noticed.
---
Brann opened the notebook lazily.
His brows lifted slightly as he flipped through the pages.
---
"…What the hell is all this?"
---
The pages were packed tightly with writing.
Mana structures.
Flow calculations.
Diagrams layered over corrections.
Entire sections rewritten repeatedly.
---
Kellis leaned closer.
Then laughed.
"He actually studies this much?"
---
Several nearby students slowed slightly, watching now.
---
Brann flipped another page.
"Mana instability…"
He snorted.
"You seriously think this garbage matters?"
---
Kael stepped forward once.
"Give it back."
---
His voice remained controlled.
But tighter than usual.
---
Kellis noticed immediately.
"Oh."
His grin widened.
"It matters."
---
Kael's fingers tightened slightly.
---
Brann laughed quietly.
"You're pathetic."
---
A faint orange glow appeared around his fingers.
Weak fire mana gathered loosely across his hand.
---
Kael froze.
---
The corner of the notebook blackened instantly.
---
Then the flames spread.
---
Fast.
---
Pages curled inward as fire consumed line after line of careful writing.
Ink vanished beneath crawling orange light.
---
Kael moved forward—
too late.
---
The notebook fell to the floor.
Burning.
---
For a second—
he couldn't move.
---
The smell of smoke filled the corridor.
---
Years of effort disappeared in silence.
---
No one stopped it.
---
Students watched openly now.
Some amused.
Some indifferent.
Most simply curious.
---
Brann exhaled through his nose.
"There."
He shrugged.
"Looks better."
---
Kellis laughed quietly beside him.
---
Kael stared downward.
---
The flames slowly faded.
Leaving behind blackened scraps scattered across the stone floor.
---
His breathing became uneven.
---
Something twisted violently inside his chest.
---
A memory surfaced instantly.
---
A house disappearing into nothing.
---
His mother's voice.
---
> "Go!"
---
His father standing between him and the door.
---
> "Live."
---
Then—
silence.
---
Another memory.
---
The Arcane Rite.
The massive crystal above the platform.
The entire hall staring at him.
---
> "No Path Detected."
---
The laughter afterward.
The pity.
The isolation.
---
Years of neglect.
Years of being treated like something lesser.
---
And now—
again.
---
Something he built himself.
Something earned through effort alone.
Destroyed.
---
Like the world refused to let him keep anything.
---
A faint burst of unstable mana flickered violently around Kael's hand.
Tiny.
Sharp.
Gone instantly.
---
Kellis' grin faded slightly.
---
Brann frowned.
"…What was that?"
---
But Rhett remained silent.
Watching closely.
Not the burned notebook.
Kael.
---
His trembling hands.
His uneven breathing.
The anger hidden beneath years of silence.
---
For a moment—
Rhett's eyes narrowed slightly.
---
"…good."
---
Quiet.
Almost thoughtful.
---
Neither Brann nor Kellis reacted.
They had already started walking away.
---
Rhett followed after them slowly.
But before disappearing around the corner—
he glanced back once.
Still watching.
---
Kael remained standing there alone.
---
The hallway slowly returned to noise.
Conversation.
Footsteps.
Movement.
---
Nobody helped him.
No instructor stopped.
No one cared.
---
After a long moment, Kael crouched slowly.
---
The burned fragments crumbled apart beneath his fingers.
Entire sections unreadable.
Gone forever.
---
Not copied.
Not recoverable.
---
His chest tightened painfully.
---
All those nights.
All that work.
Destroyed in seconds.
---
Kael lowered his head slightly.
Dark grey eyes trembling faintly beneath strands of black hair falling across them.
---
For years—
he had endured.
Stayed silent.
Adapted.
Survived.
---
But now—
for the first time since entering the academy—
the anger no longer felt cold.
---
It burned.