Arkhainon Magic Academy wasn't just a school; it was a crucible. Its founding philosophy was brutally simple: magic is power, and power is the only virtue that matters. It didn't build character; it forged weapons for the state—weapons desperately needed for the endless, grinding war against the Fleur Empire. In a time of war, any metal that can't handle the heat is simply discarded. This ruthless meritocracy was why my perfect scores on paper were tolerated, and why my pathetic practical skills made me a target.
I slipped into my usual seat at the back of the lecture hall, and the reaction was as predictable as the sunrise. A ripple of whispers, a few pitying glances, and the more overt, scornful stares from the elites. The original Einz had been a silent loner, a reputation I was more than happy to maintain. It made ignoring everyone easier.
Unfortunately, not everyone agreed with being ignored.
"Dude, is it true?" a voice wheezed next to me. Zain, my self-proclaimed best friend, had plopped his considerable bulk into the adjacent seat. He was the academy's premier gossip broker, a walking encyclopedia of rumors and scandals.
I didn't even look at him. "Is what true, Zain?"
"That you didn't get a dorm this semester! I heard they straight-up told you there was no room. That's cold, man, even for them."
"It's true," I said, my eyes focused on the empty lectern.
"So where are you staying? Did your dad really make you commute from the estate? That's rough, dude. So rough." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of rough, you heard about Kaelen from the fourth year? He completely botched yesterday's Initial Readiness Assessment. For the seniors, the test was to maintain a stable Tier 2 spell for thirty seconds. He cast it, but it fizzled out in less than five. The instructors said his control hasn't improved at all since last year. Word is, they've already put him on the accelerated expulsion list. They're cracking down hard on anyone who's hit their limit."
I tuned him out. His gossip, usually a harmless distraction, was now just static. My brain was done processing the raw data from my encounter with Lia; I was already on to the next phase—formulating a repeatable strategy. The question wasn't what happened yesterday, but how to obtain results again, on purpose.
Thankfully, the teacher arrived, cutting Zain's monologue short. The lecture was on Advanced Resonance Theory, a topic I knew inside and out. The original Einz, desperate to find some way to be relevant, had become a bookworm. He'd devoured every theory book in the library, hoping knowledge could substitute for raw talent. It couldn't, but it had created a strange loophole for me.
My perfect scores on every written exam were the only thing keeping my head above water. But this time, that wouldn't be enough. The Semester Proving didn't care about theory. It was a purely practical exam, a raw measure of one's resonance and combat ability. My academic record wouldn't save me.
When the bell rang for lunch, I was the first one out the door. I made a beeline for the massive dining hall on the ground floor of the main academy building. The place was a cavern of noise, its high, practical ceilings crisscrossed with dark wooden rafters from which old, faded house banners hung. Being a state-funded war academy had one major perk: the food was plentiful and free.
I grabbed a tray and navigated the bustling lines, the air thick with the clatter of cutlery and the murmur of a thousand conversations. I loaded up with everything I could fit: two plates of nutrient-rich stew, a chunk of warm, steam-baked bread, and a roasted fowl that was probably bigger than my head. After a day of surviving on a few berries, I was starving.
I found an empty table in a far corner, a small island of solitude in a sea of chattering students. For the first few minutes, my only focus was stuffing my face, the taste of real, hot food an almost religious experience.
Once the initial, primal hunger had subsided, I remembered the second reason I was here. My gaze drifted away from my plate and scanned the room, settling on the chaotic, noisy tables where the first-years were gathered.
This is a feeding ground. My eyes scanned the chaotic tables, looking for a flash of bright red hair and that peculiar, slightly ridiculous hairstyle of hers. Lia wasn't there. A minor setback; relying on a single test subject was poor strategy anyway. I watched the rest of them, a chaotic sea of easy tells and telegraphed emotions. My gaze settled on one table where a girl was leaning across, her eyes wide as her friend whispered some earth-shattering secret—probably about who liked whom. The first girl gasped, then clutched her friend's arm with a look of pure, devotional gratitude. A completely wasted resource.
The food had filled the void in my stomach, but it only made the emptiness of the 1 RP in my vision feel more profound. I wasn't just hungry for food anymore. Looking out at the chaotic sea of easy smiles and cheap admiration, I felt the cold, sharp pang of a predator who had just found its hunting ground.