The training hall was completely quiet, save for the distant, low hum of the academy's mana stabilizers echoing off the walls. I stood right next to the scorched remains of the training dummy, trying to catch my breath. My heart was still hammering against my ribs—not because I was tired, but because of the shock of what had just happened. My Fireball hadn't just hit harder. It had physically changed into [Fire Blast].
Luna walked over across the stone tiles, her heavy boots clicking softly in the empty hall. She stopped a few feet away from my lane, crossing her arms as she squinted through the leftover smoke at the blackened target.
"Lucas," she said, looking from the ashes back to my face with genuine curiosity.
"That skill... the Fire Blast. Where did you find a skill book like that? I've been scouring the marketplace vendors for weeks, and they only ever sell basic F-rank scrolls."
I froze for a second, hesitating. In my mind, a memory surfaced—an old note I wrote about skills naturally evolving through repeated use and intense mental focus. But seeing the pure confusion on her face, I realized a harsh truth: for everyone else native to this world, this wasn't common knowledge.
"Isn't it... obtainable through practice?" I asked, dropping my voice low so no one else would hear. "I mean, if you train hard enough or meet the right requirements, wouldn't the system naturally upgrade the spell?"
Luna blinked, staring at me like I had suddenly started speaking a dead language. "Obtainable through practice? Lucas, what are you talking about? It's physically impossible to learn or evolve a skill without loading a specific Skill Book or getting a rare drop from a Dungeon Boss. You can't just 'will' a spell to get stronger."
I felt a sudden, heavy weight drop into my chest. If what she said was true, then the very laws of this world were shifting into something I didn't fully recognize anymore. Based on my past knowledge, this shouldn't be happening. I needed to find out the true origin of how this world's system was functioning now.
"Ah, you got me," I said with a forced laugh, quickly rubbing the back of my neck to hide my unease. "I guess I just got lucky with a random vendor I found near the edge of the market district. It must have been a one-time stock."
Luna sighed and rolled her eyes, seemingly accepting the cover story, though she kept looking at me a moment too long. "Some luck. If you ever see him again, let me know. I'd pay a fortune for a growth-type skill."
Before she could ask another question, a heavy hand clamped firmly onto my shoulder. Prate appeared right beside me, grinning and looking completely energized, as if he hadn't just spent hours draining his life force in our training session.
"Lucas and I have some extra work to do," Prate announced to Luna, giving her a friendly but firm nod. "Let me borrow our class lead for a bit. We've got some 'special projects' to discuss."
Luna nodded, turning on her heel and heading toward the exit doors. That left the two of us completely alone in the cooling, smoky hall. The moment she was gone, Prate turned to me and gave a quick, mysterious wink. "Don't worry," he whispered, lowering his hand. "I've got your back."
As we walked out of the facility and crossed toward the central plaza, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. It cast long, orange shadows across the concrete paths of the academy grounds.
"Lucas," Prate started, slowing his pace and shifting his voice into a quiet, serious tone. "Do you want to create a Club with me?"
"A Club? Out of nowhere?" I looked over at him, completely confused. "What's the point of creating a club when we're already part of the exact same class curriculum?"
"Is this really the first time you're hearing about the Club system?" Prate laughed, though there was a strange, sharp glint in his eyes. He leaned closer as we walked. "It's not just a social group, Lucas. It's an official way to pool player resources and access training areas that the regular faculty doesn't keep an eye on. You really never heard about it?"
"No," I replied, shaking my head. Henry had never mentioned a club when he brought me into this academy, but I figured that was fine for now.
"I'll send you the system coordinates later," Prate said, waving his hand to dismiss the detail. He slowed his walking pace even more, his face becoming uncharacteristically grave as he looked around to make sure no one was following us. "But first... Lucas, do you know the true Origin of Mana?"
"No," I said, my pulse quickening as my instincts twitched. "Is there actually a specific origin? I thought mana was just... an ambient energy that was always there."
"That's what the administration wants us to think," Prate said, looking straight ahead. "But while I was digging through the restricted section of the campus library, I found an old text. It was titled The Origin of Mana. It was fascinating, Lucas, but the strange thing was that the book was never finished. It was as if the author had been interrupted mid-thought and simply walked away, leaving the most important formulas completely blank—a total mystery."
A cold shiver ran straight down my spine. An unfinished book. Left behind in a library section I hadn't fully explored yet.
"Why would it be left like that?" I asked, my fists clenching inside my pockets.
"I don't know," Prate said, coming to a sudden stop right in the middle of the paved path. "But the formulas inside... they were completely unlike anything the professors teach us in class. I tried imitating one of the circulation loops yesterday. It consumed an incredible amount of my mana, but the result was breathtaking."
"How did you do it?" I asked, stepping closer to watch.
Prate raised his right palm, holding it flat against the darkening sky. "Think of it like a tree growing from a single sprout."
A tiny green spark appeared in the exact center of his hand. I watched, completely mesmerized, as he began pouring his raw mana into it. The energy didn't just flash and disappear. It expanded outward, branching out into a complex, glowing structure that looked like a miniature tree made of pure, solid light right above his skin.
"The book explains that the standard mana we use is raw and full of impurities," Prate continued, the green light reflecting clearly in his eyes. "These hidden formulas show you how to compress and filter that energy inside your pathways. They call it Mana Purity. By filtering out the impurities, the quality of your mana rises. The higher the quality, the larger the physical container your body naturally creates to hold it. They call that refined container the [Mana Heart]. It means your capacity isn't just locked to your level."
"Prate... what is your max mana capacity again?" I asked, staring at the fading glow in his hand.
"Last I checked? Around 3,000," he said casually, closing his fist and extinguishing the light tree.
I stood there on the path, completely stunned into silence. I was currently Level 31, and my total mana capacity was barely a tenth of that, sitting at 302. "3,000? How is an amount like that even possible for a student?"
"It's the purification formulas," Prate said, turning back toward the paths. "We need to find out just how far this mana goes."
We finally reached the edge of the residential zone. The lights of the distant student villas were beginning to twinkle in the dusk.
"I'll send you the coordinates for the club location tonight," Prate said, his mysterious, casual attitude returning as he adjusted his collar. "Be there at exactly six tomorrow morning. My villa has the quiet, isolated space we need to test these formulas properly. And Lucas? Don't be late. If we're going to handle the Arena tournament, we need this."
I nodded, watching his silhouette disappear down the shadows of the villa district. I couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of envy for his family resources, but more than that, a deep, nagging question kept echoing in my head.
That night, as I sat alone at the desk in my dorm room, I pulled out my old notebook from the drawer. The pages were filled with my drawings and handwritten scribbles from before everything changed. I traced my fingers over the lines of the city map, the academy layout, and the character designs I thought I knew perfectly.
Prate wasn't anywhere in these pages. The concept of The Origin of Mana wasn't a plot point I remembered clearly from my drafts.
I looked down at my hands, closing my eyes to feel the mana pulsing weakly in my veins. 302 capacity. It wasn't nearly enough. If the world was changing—if the game was literally evolving and rewriting its own rules on its own—I couldn't safely rely on my old memories anymore. I needed to maximize the Mana Heart.
As the clock ticked toward midnight, a faint sound echoed through the quiet room—a soft, digital chime. I snapped my eyes open to see a holographic window flickering into existence right in the middle of the air. The text was completely distorted, the letters shifting like sand in a storm.
[B■■■■ st■■■ ■■■ ■■■]
I stared at the blurred message for a long time, the mystery of those blocked words feeling heavier and more dangerous than ever. Whatever the system was trying to tell me, it felt like an ominous countdown.
I closed the window with a wave of my hand and lay back on my bed, staring up at the dark ceiling.
Tomorrow, at 6:00 A.M., the training will truly begin.