Principles of Advanced Magic – Embarrassment and Enlightenment
The room had just begun to settle when Victoria, still flustered by Professor Nalear's graceful entrance, leaned toward Stella and whispered—
Just a bit too loud.
"Professor Nalear is… sexy."
The words slipped out before she could stop them. They echoed louder than intended, bouncing off stone walls and silencing even the back-row chatterers.
Time froze.
A beat of stunned silence followed.
Then Victoria's face turned the color of a ripened tomato—from her cheeks to the very tips of her ears. Her brain screamed to rewind time, to vanish, to melt into the floor. But there was no undoing it.
Alex grinned like a devil and leaned in.
"Smooth move, hot stuff."
A few students snickered. A noble somewhere near the front audibly choked. But worst of all—
Professor Nalear giggled.
A gentle, musical laugh, not mocking—just amused. And it only made Victoria's shame dig deeper into her soul.
"I'm… I'm so sorry," Victoria mumbled, clutching her face and burying it between her hands, elbows pressing hard against the desk. "Kill me. Someone please just kill me."
She began thudding her forehead softly against the wooden surface. Her pride curled into a little ball and cried.
Professor Nalear smiled, her voice lilting with warmth as she addressed her from the front of the room.
"I'm honestly flattered by your feelings…" she chuckled. "But I don't date students. I'm not into children. I'm looking for a tall and strong mage as a life companion. However—if six years from now you're still interested, and I'm still single…" she winked, "…we'll revisit the topic."
Half the class gasped. The other half laughed.
Victoria, on the other hand, wanted to crawl into a deep abyss and never return.
"Oh Ancients above," she whispered into her arms. "Why do I speak?"
But the moment passed, and Professor Nalear clapped her hands.
"Now—let's begin today's actual lesson: Principles of Advanced Magic."
She strode confidently to the chalkboard, and with a flick of her fingers, summoned a long, slender piece of shimmering mineral chalk. Her mana manipulated it midair with surgical precision. A silhouette of a human appeared on the board, glowing faintly in white.
"As you should know from your first three years," she began, her tone professional and smooth, "every human possesses a degree of talent for magic. This talent is quantified by the amount of mana stored in an individual's mana well—the reservoir of magical energy within all sentient beings."
With a quick tap at the silhouette's knees, a soft blue light filled the lower legs of the figure.
"The first category is the normal human—individuals with very low magical potential. Their mana well rarely rises above the knees."
She tapped the chest next, the light rising accordingly.
"Next, we have the Magico. This group includes most competent spellcasters—adventurers, city guards, and minor clergy. Their wells typically fill to chest level."
Finally, she tapped the head—and the entire silhouette burst with light, glowing bright and full.
"And lastly, the Mage. A true mage's mana well floods their entire body. They have the potential to manipulate higher-tier spells, should they learn the techniques to draw from it effectively."
She turned to the class, chalk still floating in her aura.
"Up until now, all of you have relied on spell words and hand signs—your buckets, so to speak—to draw small amounts of mana from your well. When the spell is structured perfectly, it pulls the right amount, and voilà: spell success."
She raised her eyebrows slightly.
"But from Tier Four and above, that method breaks down. The old bucket is no longer enough."
She waved her hand, and a heavy, oversized wooden bucket appeared midair beside the silhouette. It wobbled as if unstable.
"You can try using a bigger bucket—that is, more complex incantations, intricate signs, drawn-out rituals. This is what many minor academies teach. But it's slow, exhausting, and unless your enemy is a statue or your party is covering you, completely impractical in real combat."
The image of the large bucket cracked and split, water spilling uselessly onto the ground.
Then she snapped her fingers—and three small, identical buckets appeared in a neat row.
"This brings us to the second method—exclusive to the Six Great Academies."
"Multi-casting."
A murmur rippled through the room.
"Multi-casting means forming and controlling more than one 'bucket'—or extraction sequence—at the same time. It's a technique that has its roots in First Magic. I trust Professor Trasque emphasized its importance?"
The entire class nodded vigorously.
"Good. Then you already know how critical First Magic is for survival. Now, we take it further."
She gestured again, and a visual of a mage appeared with two glowing hands, each casting independently.
"A dual-caster can control two buckets simultaneously. That's the minimum requirement to use Tier Four magic efficiently. Some Tier Fours can be cast with two, others with three. Tier Five spells, however, demand even more control—some requiring four, five, or even six active 'buckets.'"
She looked around the room, making eye contact with each student.
"This 'bucket and well' analogy is a simplification, of course. In practice, advanced magic relies on mental visualization and discipline. You may prefer to imagine your mana as wine, coins, even threads—whatever metaphor resonates most with your inner mind. What matters is that you can feel, shape, and control it."
"With enough mastery, you can form your first 'bucket' using words and signs—but then build additional copies through will alone. No tools. No rituals. Just control."
The class was rapt.
"Talent determines your limit. But hard work determines how close to that limit you can reach. Anyone who fails to grasp this method by the end of the academic year… will be dismissed. No exceptions. No noble privilege. No family donations. Only results matter."
A quiet stillness settled over the room. It wasn't fear—but gravity. The realization that the era of soft learning was over.
Lunchtime – The Table of Misfits
After two intense hours, the bell rang.
It was lunchtime.
Victoria practically sprinted out of the classroom, dragging her satchel and trying to pretend the earlier embarrassment never happened. She met up with Alex, Stella, and Arwin under the shade of the Academy's central tree. The four of them huddled around a stone bench, tearing into their lunches while talking over the lessons.
"You really said 'sexy,' huh?" Alex teased between bites of spicy bread.
"Don't remind me," Victoria groaned, hiding her face behind her juice flask.
Arwin chuckled. "Could've been worse. You could've asked her out."
"I almost did," Victoria muttered.
Stella raised an eyebrow. "To be fair, she is pretty hot. And terrifying."
"Exactly!" Victoria cried. "She's elegant, dangerous, and confident. It's… unfair."
The group laughed together, easing the weight of the morning's pressure.
A Fork in the Path
Soon, it was time to split for specialization classes.
Alex adjusted her armor straps and nodded. "Mage Knight time. Bet I'll get bruised before the hour ends."
Stella waved cheerfully. "Master Healer track for me. I'm hoping for something quiet."
Victoria and Arwin exchanged a look. "War Mage."
"Time to burn things," Arwin said with a grin.
"And try not to get burned," Victoria added.
The group dispersed with waves and goodbyes, heading into the next phase of their academic day—each step bringing them closer to the future, to power, and to trials that none of them were quite ready for.
But they were in it together.
For now.