"Alicia, your mana manipulation is very good…"
"Yes, it's truly impressive…"
"With talent like yours, our class will definitely stand out among the others…"
The compliments were thrown one after another, blending into a familiar and meaningless words.
Alicia listened politely, nodding at the right moments. Her lips curved into a gentle smile that never faltered and she stood straight with hands folded neatly in front of her.
Her movement was refined through several years of noble etiquette.
From the outside, she looked flawless, yet from inside, she felt nothing close to pride.
She knew her performance had been excellent. The mana sphere that she formed earlier had been stable and dense. Compared to most of her classmates, the difference was undeniable. However, the excellence within this classroom meant very little.
Outside these walls, there were many students from other noble families. They were the heirs who were raised with private tutors, luxury resources, and few artifacts that were passed down for many generations.
Alicia had seen them before during the competitions and brief encounters in the banquet.
Their control was sharper and their instincts were faster. Some of them treated mana as if it were an extension of their own will. Compared to them, her achievement felt incomplete.
"I'm still not good enough…" she admitted silently.
Her smile did not change. Many of her classmates admired her since not only she had many abilities, she was also beautiful.
Her hair caught the light softly, framing her fair face. Her eyes were clear and bright with such gentle expressions that was enough to invite the trust of the surrounding people. Wherever she went, the attention followed.
It was inevitable that her beauty invited several suitors. Many of their confessions came in many forms.
Just for this academy, several awkward letters were slipped onto her desk. It was such dramatic declarations that were delivered in public space. It was also subtle proposals that were masked as polite conversation. Some were sincere but some were not.
After all, her family name complicated the matters.
The title of great noble family carried weight far heavier than the affection. For many of them, marrying her wasn't about love but about power and influence.
Each confession felt less like a choice and more like a negotiation that she never agreed to participate in. Rejecting them had exhausted her greatly.
Her family had not yet arranged a marriage for her but she understood how fragile that freedom was.
The nobility was a cage built of expectations. The moment she showed weakness in her academic and political situation, she would be switched or bound to someone suitable.
Her fate rested not in her own hands but in how valuable she remained.
Sometimes, when she looked at the commoners and poorer students, she felt something close to envy.
They struggled every day. They worried about food and money. They tried to survive in this harsh world yet, their lives belonged to them only.
Their failures were their own and their choices were still their own. They didn't carry the invisible burden of family.
Of course, she knew better than to romanticize it. She had never gone hungry. She never feared about where would she live and never lacked the resources to move forward.
The privilege had given her a strong foundation even as it tightened its grip around her future. Every path had its own cost and being a noble wouldn't always end in a good way.
*****
Not far away, Baston remained seated in his chair because the exit of the classroom was blocked.
Several noble students stood near the door, engaging in happy conversation, and admiring Alicia's performance loudly. Their voices filled the room, creating an unspoken praise. No one dared to pass through.
The students of lower status were waiting silently, lowering their sights, and pretending not to be impatient. Even asking for the permission could be deemed as disrespect.
The nobles were quick to perceive imagined conflict, especially from those beneath them. Baston noticed the congestion but he made no move to stand. Drawing attention was the last thing he wanted.
Ten minutes passed before the nobles finally dispersed, satisfied with their own performance. By the time the path was cleared, the break time was already half gone.
He hurriedly rushed toward the cafeteria anyway and his steps were heavy. As he approached, his heart sank because the line stretched far longer than usual.
"Great… I won't be able to eat with such long line..."
He considered leaving immediately. At this rate, even lining up would cost too much time. He could save it for later but it would be cold and tasteless. The food might be far less enjoyable.
As he turned away, a voice stopped him, "Excuse me…"
A waiter approached, holding a neatly wrapped package. Before Baston could respond, the man placed it into his hands. The weight of the package surprised him.
This wasn't the usual free sandwich. The bread was thicker and it was still warm. The smell of meat and fresh vegetables wafted up invitingly. Along with it, an orange juice was also given. It was very cool to the touch.
"I think you've mistaken me for someone else. I didn't order this..."
The waiter smiled, bowing slightly, "There's no mistake. Someone has already paid for it and they requested that it must be delivered to you personally."
"Who is it?"
"I'm afraid I don't know. They left the money and a message before they departed quickly."
With that, the waiter excused himself and returned to the counter, leaving Baston standing there while staring down at the food in confusion.
"Someone paid these for me?"
The suspicion crept in almost immediately since he never encountered this before.
Was it a prank or a trap?
Still, the academy's regulations were strict. The ingredients were inspected, the kitchens were monitored, and the staff was vetted thoroughly.
There had never been an incident like his imagination, not even rumors. This had already signified everything was safe. At least, he could believe there was no poison on it.
"Well…" he muttered, "If someone wanted to poison me, the academy would be the worst place to try."
He then found a place to sit, unwrapping the package to see how bountiful the bread was. He took a bite and the taste was undeniably good. After all, such free food was always heavenly.
*****
Across the cafeteria, Panto watched Baston from a distance with his fingers clenched tightly around his own tray. When he saw Baston accepted the food, the relief spread through him subtly.
He had considered handing it over directly but that would have drawn the attention and question.
After witnessing the ice magic earlier, he was convinced the boy was hiding something significant.
Even when Miss Pashan tested his mana development, Baston had restrained himself completely.
He had no hesitation to make himself appeared weak. That wasn't normal because anyone who could control such magic wouldn't think twice but just to display it to everyone.
If it happened to him, he believed he would flaunt it everyday. At least, several students must see his magic for a week. That was what his desire whispered into his heart.
However, the fat boy never did that.
The cult that Baston mentioned before also stayed in his thoughts like a shadow. He never mentioned the name but he believed it would be safer to never know it.
If it was still watching him, then the caution made sense. Apparently, helping him openly might do more harm than good.
"How else can I help him…?" Panto wondered.
Behind him, his lackeys whispered among themselves. Their voices were low but they had their own opinion.
"Boss, you've been staring at that fat boy for a while. Did he cause a trouble?"
"Just say the word. We'll take care of him."
"He'd cry the moment we slap him."
Panto's jaw tightened. He realized what happened if his lackeys dared to disturb his savior.
"Enough!" he snapped.
The laughter stopped instantly and they didn't understand why their boss didn't like the idea. It was already their routine, yet suddenly, their boss denied them.
Unfortunately, they were still in the dark.
If Baston ever unleashed his ice magic, he wasn't sure anyone nearby would survive unscathed.
The image of the frozen air with such unnatural stillness had shocked him. It had etched itself into his memory. Even with such greatness, Baston never displayed it to others.
If they provoked him, he thought grimly. He wouldn't fight back because truthfully, he couldn't even fight back. He didn't have the required strength to face such magic power.
"Don't touch him," Panto said firmly, "I'll handle it personally."
For a brief moment, his timid demeanor changed and replaced by something different. It quickly vanished, leaving only his usual unease. He didn't notice the transformation.
*****
When the break time ended, the students returned to class. Miss Pashan stood at the front and her expression was serious.
"Mana manipulation is not about how much power you possess. How precisely you can control it is the real challenge."
She then raised a small crystal-like instrument. Inside, the students could feel the movement of mana.
"This device measures the stability and output. Normally, it's used to assess your mana capacity. Today, that's not our focus."
She instructed each student to infuse their mana ten times in succession.
"If your scores fluctuate wildly, it means your control is poor. If they remain close, your manipulation is stable."
The instruments were distributed without any discrimination. Almost immediately, several voices rose from the noble side. It wasn't strange since they were the most gifted one in this room.
"My first score is 100!"
"Hah, only 100? Mine's 150!"
"Alicia got 300!"
The boasting filled the room. Even though the test emphasized the stability, the instrument still recorded their raw output. In this case, the nobles couldn't resist showing off.
Many pushed themselves beyond what was necessary. Their scores were climbing high but it eventually became inconsistent.
The others followed suit and their curiosity was followed by the caution.
Unfortunately, most results were disheartening. For example, Panto's best score reached 80. It was respectable and quite impressive among the merchants. Still, it was meaningless compared to other numbers.
In the meantime, Baston glanced around quietly.
"20… 50… 35… 10…"
He sighed inwardly because the lack of resources truly decided everything.
When it was his turn, he focused on the instrument. The mana responded immediately, flowing smoothly to be measured.
When he infused it, the first score came to him. It was displayed to his face, glaring amidst the commotion that came from other scores.
[500…]
His heart skipped a beat. He reacted instantly, shielding the instrument from the view.
The score was too high. That number would disturb his peaceful living. If anyone noticed, his quiet life would be over.
Many questions would follow and many unwanted attentions would hurl toward him.
He couldn't afford such trouble. He realized with his poor status, the fate would soon be decided by someone else. He soon forced his breathing to calm down.
On the second infusion, he deliberately weakened the flow of his mana.
[15…]
It was such a good number and he was satisfied over the result. The rest followed the same score which was low and unimpressive.
When the class ended, Miss Pashan collected the instruments back. Using magic, she compiled the data and Alicia's score made her smile.
But then, she froze after looking at one instrument.
"Five hundred?"
She was startled and puzzled. Tracing it back, she found the name she wanted to know. It came from Baston, the fat boy with the status of poor.
Her brows furrowed deeply. She reviewed the subsequent records. The result was low and disappointing.
"Perhaps, it's just a defect. Is the instrument broken? Well, it's another possibility…"
The relief soon washed through her.
A talent like that from such a background would have been unprecedented and troublesome. She then set Baston's instrument aside for the inspection.
Hopefully, it was indeed what she thought.
*****
Meanwhile, Baston returned to his dormitory.
Before the class ended, the old book had trembled inside his bag. It should be a sign and this gesture made him unease through the lesson.
The old book might want to tell something. Perhaps, it wanted to inform him regarding the next quest.
That was his initial hunch and he wanted to prove it.
Back in his dormitory, he locked the door behind him and leaned against it for a brief moment. The room was quiet while his heart kept beating fast. The faint hum of mana lamp became the only sound in the room.
Slowly, he reached into his bag.
The old book was warm. It was just like the book had absorbed the heat from a living body. The leather cover pulsed faintly beneath his fingers almost like a heartbeat.
He gulped down his saliva and placed the book on the desk. He didn't open it immediately since he didn't know whether it would bring another opportunity or not.
The old book was still a big mystery for him. Even though the reward tempted his mind, he couldn't be careless. Still, the longer he hesitated, the stronger the tremor became as if it was urging him forward.
When he finally opened the cover, the pages flipped on their own. They stopped at the last page.
The faint glow returned and it was stronger than before, illuminating the page with a pale and cold light. The letters surfaced slowly, combining into several words.
Baston read them in silence.
His expression stiffened. He already predicted the next quest but never in his dreams that it would issue something like this.
It made him afraid but it also made him silly.
He already estimated what would happen toward his future. The purpose of the old book was questionable but this was the only way out.
This thing had already became his lifeline.