The duo once again left the classroom to head for the library, where they collected their respective books.
After that, they returned to the dorms. It was still early in the morning, and they decided to train for a bit—Alex focused on Senturion control while Marc worked on mana gathering.
After a light lunch, they decided to leave for the gym. Or rather, Marc decided for both of them. Alex got dragged along, grumbling as Marc grabbed him by the arm.
"You're coming with me to the gym," Marc declared, his grin annoyingly wide. "You need to get stronger. Besides, girls like athletic bodies. How can you find a girlfriend if you look like you could be blown away by a breeze?"
Alex wanted to retort—he really did—but he couldn't find the words. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again, only for him to sigh in defeat. Deep down, he couldn't deny that Marc had a point. He did want to look good, and if he ever got the chance to find a girlfriend, it wouldn't hurt to not look like a walking stick. Besides, Marc was basically a gym rat; if anyone could serve as a personal trainer, it was him.
They spent two hours in the gym. Marc guided him through every movement, correcting his posture, making him push harder, and occasionally laughing whenever Alex nearly collapsed mid-set. By the end, Alex's arms were trembling like jelly, but his pride stayed intact—mostly.
After a shower and a few moments to breathe, they returned to the dorms. The sunset cast orange and violet hues through the window as they trained again until dinnertime. Once the last rays faded, Alex prepared dinner while Marc took charge of setting the table. They ate in silence, exhaustion mixing with satisfaction.
Later that night, Alex sat on his bed, reading through the books for his secondary classes. He read the first chapter of each—Alchemy, Anatomy, and Magic Creation—taking mental notes as the night deepened.
He was entering the academy as a fourth-year student, meaning he had a mountain of catching up to do. But if there was one thing Alex was good at, it was working hard.
The next morning came quietly.
Alex repeated his routine: writing, cooking breakfast, giving Marc his traditional loving kick to wake him up, eating, and finally heading to the academy.
Students bustled about the courtyard, and the sound of chatter and footsteps filled the air. On their way, they stopped by the board displaying the new schedules.
Secondary classes, it turned out, were always held after the mandatory ones and followed the same order every day, leaving empty hours in between.
For Alex, that schedule looked like this:
Mandatory Class: 7 a.m. – 10 a.m.
Magic Creation: 11 a.m. – 12 p.m.
Anatomy: 3 p.m. – 4 p.m.
Alchemy: 4 p.m. – 5 p.m.
That meant one hour of rest after the main class, then three long hours before Anatomy.
'Hmm… I should find a way to profit from the time between classes' Alex thought, watching students scatter across the campus.
It only took him a few minutes to come up with the answer.
'Ah! I'll spend the first hour practicing Senturion Control, then the next three gathering mana.'
It was an efficient plan. That way, he'd be free by five in the evening. Knowing Marc, he'd get dragged to the gym afterward for at least two hours, which would leave him from seven to ten p.m. for whatever he wanted.
And, of course, Alex already knew how he'd spend that time—either at the library or working on improving his spells.
After the morning's Elemental Theory class ended, Alex went to a more secluded spot in the academy yard. Closing his eyes, he focused on his Senturion control.
He trained for about forty-five minutes before heading to his next class.
Following the maps posted on the walls, Alex found the classroom easily. He sat at the back, his usual spot, and looked around. Students from every class level filtered in—nobles and commoners alike.
So secondary classes are mixed, he realized.
Looking closer, he noticed the room was much larger than the normal classrooms—easily three times the size, with row upon row of seats.
His quiet observation was interrupted by a sharp, disdainful voice.
"Ugh, why do we have to share a class with these mongrels?" sneered a blonde boy dressed in spotless mage robes. His gaze swept across the commoners like one would a pile of trash, Alex included.
Alex's brows furrowed, but he forced himself to stay calm. It was only the second day; he didn't want to start a fight already.
Unfortunately, the sentiment wasn't isolated. Nearly two-thirds of the nobles had similar comments, murmuring to each other about "proper education" and "undesirable company."
Alex sighed internally. 'As if my opinion of nobles wasn't already low enough.'
Before the muttering could grow louder, the door opened, and a man stepped in.
He had red hair, neatly tied back, and wore fiery crimson robes adorned with gold embroidery. His presence silenced the room immediately.
"Hello," the man began, his tone level and calm. "My name is Fabian Moore. I'll be in charge of teaching you the art of creating new magic—whether for personal use or for profit."
He paused briefly, scanning the room with eyes sharp as a hawk's.
"As we don't have much time, I'll take no questions. Simply take notes. If you don't understand something, seek your answers in the library."
His voice was steady and practiced, like a man who'd given this same speech dozens of times before.
"Magic circles," he continued, turning toward the blackboard, "are essentially equations. You input variables—and the result determines the mana cost."
With precise movements, he drew a pentagon on the board.
"Think of this shape as your base formula. Each corner represents a variable: Strength, Area, Range, Control, and Element—or Elements, if more than one.
You all know what Strength entails, so I'll skip that one.
Area, as the name suggests, defines the zone of impact—anything from one person to a hundred-meter radius.
Range, meanwhile, dictates how far a spell can travel before losing form or ceasing to function. Don't confuse Range with Area—they're connected, but not the same.
Control, on the other hand, refers to how much authority you have over your spell before it leaves your influence. The control needed It's directly proportional to Strength and Range, and inversely proportional to Area. In other words, the grater the range and the higher the power, the more control needed to use the skill, on the other hand the greater the are the less control needed, since you don't mind where a hundred meters radious spell lands."
As he spoke, his chalk scratched rhythmically against the board, leaving trails of white lines and runic symbols.
"Finally, Element—or Elements—refers to how many elements are involved in the spell. Each one increases mana consumption proportionally."
Behind him, sounds of scribbling filled the room. Dozens of quills moved frantically, trying to capture every word. Alex's wrist already ached, but he was absorbing every concept.
"Now," Fabian said, turning back to the students, "to create a new spell, you must first decide its purpose. What do you want it to do? Once you have that, you'll inscribe it into the magic circle.
After that, you must determine the rest of the variables. Control, in particular, is crucial. Balance it carefully with all other parameters—otherwise, you'll face severe backlash every time you cast.
Every modification requires rebalancing the other nodes. Increase Range without Control, and your spell becomes inaccurate. Expand Area without Strength, and it turns weak. You get the idea."
His tone was dry but precise, like a craftsman explaining the rules of his trade.
For the remainder of the hour, Fabian continued lecturing, not stopping even once for a sip of water. Yet despite his monotony, every sentence carried weight—nuggets of gold for anyone listening closely.
By the end, Alex's mind was spinning. Ideas bloomed like fireworks. He could already see ways to modify Windslicer or Water Shield, maybe even create a spell entirely his own someday.
But that would have to wait until free hours. For now, he simply smiled to himself, clutching his notes, his heart thrumming with excitement for the path ahead.