The sun blazed over the marble towers of Redcrest High, its spires catching firelight from the magic barrier that shimmered faintly in the sky above. Inside one of the vast lecture halls, chaos reigned.
"Hey, don't burn his eyebrows off this time!" someone shouted, ducking as a fireball whizzed past and exploded against a magic barrier near the ceiling.
"You moved your face into the spell zone!" the caster snapped back.
The room was a whirlwind of glowing glyphs, floating spellbooks, and half-summoned familiars scampering between desks. The second-year students were restless—half-listening, half-showing off. Everyone was itching for the same thing.
Lucas Virellian sat at the edge of the classroom near the window, staring quietly at his half-filled notebook. A few students had made a point of surrounding him with empty space, even though the room was full.
"Hey Lucas," a smug voice called from across the aisle, "You taking notes on how not to cast again?"
Laughter rippled through the nearby students.
Lucas didn't look up.
"Didn't realize we let mana cripples into the expedition," another student muttered just loud enough.
Before the sneer could settle, a cold gust of wind swept through the room.
Mia stood behind the heckler's chair, blue frost curling at her fingertips. "Say that again," she said sweetly, her ice magic humming in the air.
The boy swallowed hard and looked away.
From the other end of the room, Eric leaned back in his seat, arms folded, and fixed the class with a slow, cold stare. The hecklers quickly went silent.
That was how it always was. Lucas's silence invited it. Mia's temper ended it. Eric's presence killed it.
Then the door slammed open.
Professor Garran, their instructor, swept in, cloak billowing, mana pressure crackling around his boots. The room snapped to order immediately.
"Sit. Up. Straight."
Chairs scraped. Spells vanished. Students fell into rigid silence.
Garran paced to the front, slapped a crystal onto the board, and activated it with a spark of magic. A map projected into the air: dense forest, mountain ridges, glowing monster zones marked in red.
"It's that time of year again," Garran said. "Second-year expedition."
Whispers buzzed. A few students straightened with excitement.
"You will head into the outer region of the Howling Ravine, work in teams, and face live monsters. Standard formation tactics, target elimination, and survival evaluation."
Someone in the back cheered.
Garran didn't smile. "This is not a game. You're not children anymore. Next year, the Five Elite Squads will be watching. Screw up here, and they won't waste a second glance at you."
He paused, scanning the room. His eyes landed on Lucas.
"And yes, this includes everyone. Even if you're a mana-deficient waste of space, you're going."
The words landed like a stone. Lucas's eyes didn't move. He was used to it by now.
"Is that even safe?" someone muttered. "He'll just drag the rest of us down."
Eric's chair scraped back.
Garran raised a hand. "I said everyone goes. If someone dies, that's nature sorting out the weak."
Silence.
After a moment, the teacher clapped his hands once, breaking the tension.
"Groups of three. Sort yourselves. You leave tomorrow morning at first light."
He turned and walked out, leaving the projection hovering.
As soon as the door closed, the classroom burst into motion.
Lucas slowly packed his things. "You guys don't have to—"
"Shut it," Mia said, already moving to his side. "You think I'd pair up with anyone else? Please."
Eric stepped up beside them. "You heard the man. We're all going. Might as well make sure you don't end up monster food."
Lucas managed a small smile. "Thanks."
Mia elbowed him lightly. "Just don't puke on my boots this time."
"No promises."
End of Chapter One