"Woah."
Vael got up from the stone floor, breath heavy. He shook Oculor off, the creature slipping away to resume meditating on his core.
He headed for the bathroom and turned on the water, ice cold. Cupping his hands, he splashed his face. The shock helped, if only a little.
It was still the dead of night. Outside the window, the moon hung high, hours away from dawn.
Sweat clung to his skin. His clothes were drenched. He stripped them off and let the tub fill with warm water.
As he waited, he replayed the dream in his mind. Another flashback from before his regression. This time, it hadn't been a fight for survival—yet it was just as important. A goldmine of knowledge.
Three things stood out.
First, the mana rapier. A blade forged from compressed space. His past self had crafted it as a backup when disarmed. It didn't solve everything—it still demanded mana—but it was better than nothing.
Second, the glass bottle. The one in his memory had held a miniature ship called the White Madam. Vael reached into his Pocket, pulling out his own—the Flying Crawfish, given to him by Guapo. Not quite the same, but similar enough to raise questions. It was no ordinary object.
And last, the continent. Vasulina. He had only glimpsed it in his memories, but even that glimpse had left him shaken. Towering glass buildings, strange machines, unfamiliar clothes. Compared to that, his world felt like the Stone Age.
Vael sank into the water, letting the heat soak through him. He couldn't help but wonder how different life truly was on the other continent.
Enough of that for now. A breakthrough was in order.
Vael rose from the bath and pulled the plug, letting the water spiral away. His head felt clearer, sharper. He dressed in his academy uniform, already knowing he wouldn't be sleeping again tonight.
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he closed his eyes. He replayed the dream, every flicker of memory. His other self had done it—shaped space into a weapon. If that version of him could do it, then so could he.
No name had been given to the technique, but one came to him naturally.
Space Blade.
He began simply, focusing on collapsing space inward, trying to mold it into the outline of a sword. Nothing happened.
His eyes narrowed.
Drawing on his Spatial Awareness, Vael pushed deeper, probing, adjusting. The world around him seemed to stretch and bend at the edges of his perception.
This was going to be a long night.
And Vael was more than excited.
Oculor bit Vael softly.
"Contractor. Wake up. Classes are about to begin."
Vael's eyes fluttered open, heavy and stinging. His body ached from sitting cross-legged too long, and his head felt like stone. At some point during the night, exhaustion had dragged him under.
"Huh? What time is it?" His voice was hoarse, his throat dry.
"According to the sun's position in the sky," Oculor replied matter-of-factly, "I'd say it's around 7:50 to 8:00."
That jolted him awake in an instant. His heart kicked against his ribs. Thankfully, he was already in uniform. One less thing to worry about.
Still half-dazed, Vael's body moved on autopilot while his mind replayed the night's progress. He had managed to compress space. The blade hadn't held, not yet—but the foundation was there. Tremendous progress.
His feet pounded against the stone floor as he ran, blinking across the academy grounds whenever he could spare the mana. At best, he had five minutes before class. At worst, only seconds.
Luck was with him. His first class wasn't far.
"There."
Room 216.
He slid the door open and stepped inside. Most seats were filled, students murmuring in low voices or sitting in silence.
Without drawing attention, Vael slipped to the back and dropped into the chair beside Kiera—just as the bell rang.
BONG. BONG. BONG.
Silence.
Then—poof!
A stunning woman with fiery red hair materialized out of thin air, sparks of mana clinging to her as if reluctant to let her go. She drifted forward, floated through the open doorway for the briefest second, then descended gracefully onto the podium.
She wasted no time.
TOC! Her heels clicked against the wood.
"Welcome! Welcome, my students, to your very first class of Mana Conversion. You may address me as Miss Annie."
She crossed to the blackboard, her fiery hair swaying with each step, and scrawled her name in big, bold chalk letters.
"In this class," she continued, voice bright and confident, "you won't be swinging swords or chucking fireballs. Instead, you'll be learning the science behind mana. Much more interesting, if you ask me."
Not a single student responded. The silence pressed in, taut and awkward.
"Tough crowd, huh?" Annie's smile was easy, unbothered. "No matter. I'll get through at some point."
She hopped onto her desk and leaned back slightly, red hair spilling over her shoulder as she faced her class directly.
"Since this is the first lesson, I should probably tell you a little more about myself. I'm at the middle of the fifth stage in terms of core. My favorite hobby is chess. And I have a pet eagle—Grodex."
A pause followed, as if Annie was digging through her mind for one more thing to say. The silence stretched uncomfortably.
"Huh… I sing sometimes."
Nothing. Radio silence.
She tapped the chalk against her palm. "I was planning to do icebreakers, but I can tell you all don't swing that way, so—we'll skip it."
That broke the tension. A collective sigh of relief rolled across the room.
Annie chuckled, though it sounded just a little too forced. "Haha. You guys are funny."
Her smile sharpened. "All right then. Let's get right to it. Anyone want to tell me—what is mana?"