Shirone immersed himself in diverse studies.
Though seniors could specialize, the academy mandated mastery of all basics first. This was why society revered mages—even mediocre ones were still elite scholars.
Today, Shirone attended Class Seven's chemistry lecture by Siana Olipher, a cryomancy authority.
At 27, the second daughter of House Olipher held a 6th-rank mage certification—earned solely through ice magic.
Reputation: Beautiful face. Cold demeanor.
The only female examiner during Shirone's test, she'd left a deep impression with her glacial presence.
Paradoxically, male students adored her. The lecture hall was packed.
Adjusting her horn-rimmed glasses, the violet-haired professor stood at the podium.
Siana: "Good morning. I am Siana Olipher, your new chemistry instructor."
Applause erupted. Some whistled; others brazenly asked if she was dating Professor Sade.
Student: "Professor, tell us about your first love! It's our first class!"
Class (chanting): "Tell us! Tell us!"
Then, a massive ice crystal materialized beside Siana.
As it spun, snowflakes swirled through the room. The temperature plummeted.
At first, students laughed. "Bit chilly!"
Then their smiles froze. Literally.
Student (chattering): "P-Professor, it's c-cold…"
Siana: "Let us begin."
She descended the podium. Though the crystal slowed, the room stayed subzero.
Shirone (Thoughts): 'How does this spell work?'
Siana summoned an ice crystal into her palm. The delicate structure glimmered under the classroom lights as frost patterns danced across its surface.
"What is coldness?" she asked, her voice carrying the weight of decades of magical study. "What does it mean to cool something?"
With a sudden clench of her fist, the floating crystal shattered into countless glittering fragments that scattered like diamond dust before vanishing.
"Cold represents energy deficiency," Siana explained, brushing crystalline residue from her fingers. "While heat can theoretically increase infinitely, cold has a limit - absolute zero, where all molecular motion ceases."
Shirone, who had been lost in thought, suddenly realized class had started and fumbled to open his notebook. The pages fluttered like startled birds as he hurried to catch up.
"By extracting small amounts of energy from room temperature air," Siana continued, tracing a frost pattern in the air with her fingertip, "we create ordinary ice." Her hand suddenly clenched again, and the temperature near the lectern plummeted visibly. "But when we manipulate particles at the quantum level and control their flow..."
A collective shiver ran through the classroom as students' breath became visible in sudden white puffs.
"...we achieve temperatures that can stop a human heart in seconds."
The color drained from several students' faces, particularly those who had been whispering about romantic pursuits moments earlier.
"Which brings us to our next question," Siana said, her gaze sweeping across the room. "How do mages absorb this energy? Why don't we require tools or devices?"
Shirone's quill paused mid-sentence as he looked up, genuinely curious.
"Within the Spirit Zone," Siana raised both hands, conjuring a shimmering sphere of energy between them, "a mage becomes a control tower governing reality itself." The sphere pulsed with contained power. "Some call this godhood, others pantheism. But the core truth remains - magic requires fulfilling two divine conditions."
She extended one slender finger.
"Omniscience." A second finger joined it. "And omnipotence."
Shirone's eyes widened as understanding dawned. The pieces clicked together - his past failures, his struggles. He'd been training only half of the equation.
"Through the Spirit Zone," Siana continued, dispersing the energy sphere with a wave, "we achieve localized omnipotence. But without knowledge of what to do or how to do it..." She snapped her fingers, producing only a disappointing fizzle. "Even absolute power becomes useless. This is why the greatest mages are also the most dedicated scholars."
Turning to the blackboard, Siana began writing with precise strokes of chalk. "Starting today, you'll study multiple disciplines under various instructors. The Spirit Zone is but half of magic - without knowledge, you'll never become exceptional." The chalk screeched as she underlined her point. "Now, open to page forty-three. Fundamentals of alchemical chemistry."
At 5:00 PM, with the last class concluded, students streamed toward their dorms. Shirone shuffled along the cobblestone path, his head heavy with new knowledge and his satchel stuffed with scrolls.
Though classes had ended, the day's work hadn't - some students hurried to the dining hall while research groups clustered together, debating theories in animated whispers. Without companions, Shirone turned toward the second library, determined to review the day's lessons.
As he walked, he mused bitterly about humanity's need for sleep. "If only I could develop a wakefulness spell," he muttered, kicking a pebble. The stone skittered across the path and vanished into the grass.
Suddenly, his body lurched upward.
"Huh?" His feet left the ground as an irresistible force yanked him skyward by his collar. The world became a blur of green and gray as someone propelled them both through the air at terrifying speed.
Wind whipped at his face, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he was sprawled on the cold earth deep within the academy's forested gardens.
"Ugh!" His tailbone protested the rough landing as he scrambled to his feet, instinctively adopting a defensive stance.
Before him stood a masked figure - shoulders tense, head darting nervously from side to side. After confirming their solitude, the intruder yanked off the black cloth mask.
Shirone's eyes widened. "Amy?"
The fiery-haired girl crossed her arms, her crimson eyes burning with intensity. "You remember me, right?"
"Of course I remember," Shirone said, rubbing his sore backside. "How could I forget? First you tried to sell me to slavers, then you suddenly stripped—"
"Enough!" Amy's pale skin flushed scarlet as she thrust out a palm. "I get it! You remember!" She took a steadying breath before continuing in a rush, "But it's a misunderstanding. Yes, I have a temper, but I'm not... that kind of person. I have zero interest in men, and that was... an anomaly. First and last time. Understand?"
Shirone simply stared.
Amy groaned. "I mean the situation was bizarre. Spread whatever rumors you want, but this part's non-negotiable." She stepped closer, her unusual red eyes gleaming. "It's the truth."
"Did you really kidnap me just to say that?" Shirone asked, incredulous.
Amy blinked, then looked away, scratching her cheek awkwardly. "Well... partly. I also wanted to know how you got into the academy. And whether you'll be a problem..."
As she fumbled for words, Shirone noticed something unexpected - Karmis Amy, the top student of Class Four, was a terrible liar.
"An apology would have sufficed," he said flatly.
Amy's eye twitched. "Fine. Sorry. Now starting tomorrow, you'll bring me coffee after classes. Every day."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I don't trust you!" she snapped. "If you breathe a word about... that incident... I'll make your life miserable."
Before Shirone could protest, Amy backflipped into the air, her form becoming a crimson streak against the darkening sky.
Ten days later, Shirone trudged up the library steps, a steaming cup in hand. A crowd of students immediately began whispering - the "coffee courtship" had become the academy's favorite soap opera.
"Here's your coffee, senpai," Shirone said wearily, extending the cup.
Amy took it without thanks, her strange eyes scanning his face as they did every day. Suddenly, she tilted the cup, letting the dark liquid spill across the stone steps.
"No more," she announced loudly. "Stop following me."
Gasps rippled through the onlookers. Amy's friend Seriel hurried after her as she stormed away.
"Was that necessary?" Seriel whispered urgently. "Now everyone thinks you're heartless!"
"Good," Amy replied curtly. "Better than them knowing the truth."
Meanwhile, Shirone hid his smile. Finally, freedom.
At 11:00 PM, Amy stretched her stiff shoulders as she left the deserted library. The empty corridors echoed with her footsteps as she descended the grand staircase.
Halfway down, she froze.
A figure stood on the landing below, his face shadowed by the dim torchlight. When he looked up, two points of crimson light glowed in the darkness - eyes mirroring her own.
"You—" Amy's breath caught in her throat.
The man smiled, revealing sharp canines. "Hello, Amy," he purred, his voice dripping with false warmth. "Did you miss me?"
Amy's hands trembled as she took an involuntary step back. "No... it can't be you..."
The man ascended one step, then another, his polished boots clicking against stone. "Now, now," he chided, "is that any way to greet your dear brother?"
Pale skin with dark circles under the eyes, black hair cascading over the cheeks.
Amy's expression twisted instantly.
'Ardius Jake.'
He was from a noble family of the second rank, and the head of his household served as the royal treasurer.
Perhaps due to the unique nature of managing the royal finances, his family's influence was said to rival even that of the first-rank nobles.
No one could possibly like Jake, given his arrogant personality, but the real reason Amy despised him was because he was the leader of the Black Magicians—a research club.
In her opinion, the Black Magicians' primary field of study was dragging down talented students.
Though it wasn't an official club and received no funding, rumors said they pooled their own money to recruit students.
Their specialty was manipulating public opinion, and they were experts at pressuring top-ranking students with violence and threats to sabotage their grades.
"Amy, you're done early today? I was expecting to wait until midnight."
"Why would you wait for me? Don't you have anything better to do?"
"No need to be so harsh. I heard the rumors—some worthless guy named Shirone keeps clinging to you, huh?"
Amy already suspected that the Black Magicians were behind every bad rumor.
"Let me warn you—whatever you're planning, don't. If I hear my name one more time, I'll smash your jaw."
"Haha! You've got the wrong idea. I didn't even know about this one. Think about it—why would I do something that benefits someone else?"
Jake smiled and held out a cup of coffee.
"I'm the one who likes you."
The warm, fragrant coffee was from Civet Cat, a brand Amy recognized.
"The finest coffee you can't even get at school. Someone as exceptional as you deserves this kind of treatment."
"What's your game?"
"Game? This is a proper courtship. You know my family's influence, and soon, I'll take over my father's role as royal treasurer. The only man worthy of you in this school is me."
"Sorry, but I don't engage in private chatter in the library. So, you've got the wrong place, the wrong time, and—" She paused, then smirked. "Ah, I almost forgot the most important part. The wrong person. I hate you. So let's both be careful not to let this happen again."
As Amy turned to leave, Jake blocked her path, bracing his arm against the wall. His expression hardened.
"I must've been too gentle. I have my family's honor to uphold, and a rejection like this is unacceptable. You're the same, aren't you? Studying like mad to avoid tarnishing the Carmis name. We share the same struggle."
"Wow, you're even more pathetic than I thought."
"Wh—what?"
Hostility flashed in Jake's eyes.
But Amy wasn't the type to be intimidated by something like that.
"The same struggle? My family lives just fine doing what they love. Family honor? Sure, it matters. But I'm not shackled by it like you. I'm nothing like you—a money-obsessed fool with no dreams."
"You—!"
Jake dropped the act.
Even a first-rank noble shouldn't treat him like this. And my father is the royal treasurer!
He believed there was nothing in the world that couldn't be solved with money.
"You think you're so great? You're only nominally first-rank—how many of you actually hold power? With my family's influence, I could strangle the Carmis name with money. How about it? Want me to prove it?"
Seeing the murky glint in Jake's eyes, Amy shuddered—and realized one thing.
"Hah… thanks. I've been uneasy all day, but you just helped me figure it out."
"What?"
At last, Amy felt relieved.
Shirone would probably keep her secret safe.
"Yeah, this is the look of a villain. Your eyes are completely rotten, unlike Shirone's."
Jake lost half his sanity.
"Are you saying I'm worse than that trash?! I could kill him right now if I wanted!"
"You're dying to do something, huh? Then hurry up and do it. Stop wasting my time with empty threats. You can't even decide whether to act or not—did you really think glaring at me would scare me?"