The notebook never returned.
No matter how many nights Kael spent rewriting pages beneath the dim dormitory light, some things were simply gone.
Entire calculations.
Patterns.
Observations.
Weeks of thought reduced to ash in seconds.
---
Late into the night, Kael sat alone at the small desk near the corner of the room, black hair falling loosely across his eyes as he rewrote another mana circulation diagram from memory.
The dormitory was quiet.
Only the scratching of his pen broke the silence.
---
Across the room, Tovin sat near his own bed reading silently beneath faint light from the window.
He never spoke much.
Never asked questions.
But sometimes Kael noticed him looking over briefly before returning to his own thoughts.
---
Tonight was no different.
---
Kael stared down at the page.
Mana compression through narrowed pathways…
No.
That wasn't right.
His brows tightened slightly.
---
Some sections returned clearly.
Others felt incomplete no matter how hard he tried to remember them.
That frustrated him more than the destruction itself.
---
Because he had earned those notes.
Every page had come from observation.
Failure.
Study.
Effort.
---
And now he was being forced to build everything again from the beginning.
---
Kael exhaled slowly.
Then continued writing.
---
The days after that began to blur together.
---
Morning.
Class.
Training.
Study.
Repeat.
---
The academy settled into routine quickly.
Students adapted to schedules.
To rankings.
To hierarchy.
---
Kael adapted too.
Just differently.
---
He started waking before sunrise each morning.
Before the academy fully stirred to life.
Before the training grounds filled with noise.
---
At first, the cold air outside hurt his lungs when he ran.
His legs burned quickly.
His breathing became uneven after only short distances.
---
But he continued anyway.
---
Because during combat exercises, he had realised something important.
Speed mattered.
Endurance mattered.
Reaction time mattered.
---
If he was weaker than everyone else—
then his body itself needed to become more efficient.
---
A week after the notebook incident, Kael discovered the conditioning chambers beneath the eastern training wing.
Most students ignored them.
---
The chambers were built from dark reinforced stone, lined with faded mana inscriptions across the walls.
A sign near the entrance read:
Mana Pressure Conditioning — Level 1–10
---
Kael watched several students walk past without interest.
One laughed quietly.
"Only low-compatibility students use those."
Another shrugged.
"Yeah. Waste of time."
---
Kael entered anyway.
---
The moment the chamber activated—
pressure slammed into him instantly.
---
His knees nearly buckled.
---
The air itself felt heavier.
Breathing became difficult.
Even lifting his arms required effort.
---
Mana pressure.
Compressed artificially throughout the room.
---
Kael's muscles trembled slightly as he forced himself upright.
---
So this was what the academy used for body conditioning.
---
Not to make students stronger directly.
To force adaptation.
---
The body naturally resisted mana strain over time.
The greater the pressure endured—
the greater the tolerance developed.
---
Kael remained inside until his legs gave out completely.
---
The first day, he lasted seven minutes.
---
The second day—
nine.
---
Then twelve.
---
Small progress.
Painfully small.
But measurable.
---
That mattered.
---
Two weeks passed.
---
The bullying never stopped.
But it changed.
---
Less random.
More targeted.
---
Students mocked him less openly now.
Not because they respected him—
but because Kael rarely reacted anymore.
---
He watched more.
Spoke less.
Avoided narrow spaces instinctively.
Noticed movement around him constantly.
---
Even his walking changed slightly.
More controlled.
More aware.
---
Brann still shoved him occasionally in crowded halls.
Kellis still mocked him whenever their paths crossed.
---
But now Kael noticed things during those encounters.
Weight distribution.
Positioning.
Open angles.
Reaction timing.
---
Variables.
---
And every night, he studied them the same way he studied mana theory.
---
Rhett Kaine appeared often during those two weeks.
Never directly approaching him.
Never speaking.
---
Sometimes Kael noticed him standing near training fields watching students spar.
Other times passing through hallways silently with his hands in his pockets.
---
But occasionally—
their eyes met briefly.
---
And every time, Rhett looked at him the same way.
---
Like he was observing something unfinished.
---
One morning inside the conditioning chambers, Kael collapsed against the wall after twenty-three minutes under pressure.
His arms trembled violently from strain.
Sweat dripped from his jaw onto the stone floor beneath him.
---
But unlike before—
his breathing recovered faster now.
---
His body was adapting.
Slowly.
Painfully.
---
Still weak.
Still inferior.
---
But changing.
---
That afternoon, academy-wide announcements echoed through every corridor.
A pulse of mana carried the instructor's voice clearly across the buildings.
---
"All first-year students are to report for practical evaluation registration by the end of the week."
---
The halls immediately erupted into noise.
---
"Already?"
"I heard rankings can change after evaluations."
"S-Class is definitely dominating."
"F-Class is doomed."
---
Kael stopped walking.
---
Practical evaluation.
---
Not written theory.
Not classroom study.
Real assessment.
---
Results would matter.
---
Instructors would remember them.
Students would remember them.
The academy itself would remember them.
---
Kael's fingers tightened slightly around the strap of his bag.
---
Theory alone would no longer be enough.