By the time Elora reached the classroom, she quickly realized the situation wasn’t any better than it had been in the restroom.
Several heads turned in her direction.
She could see a few of them whispering to each other.
Being the academy’s most talked-about student overnight was starting to get annoying.
It was also getting exhausting.
Seriously, when were people going to move on?
Namely, everyone staring at her.
At that moment, Elora would have happily accepted any spell capable of erasing the last twenty-four hours from everyone’s memory.
Trying her best to look unbothered, Elora focused on the classroom instead and searched for a place where she could sit in peace.
The classroom itself was built like a small amphitheater, with rows of curved desks rising toward the back wall.
Most of the seats were already occupied, and conversations echoed throughout the room.
Or at least they did until Elora stepped inside.
“…This is getting ridiculous.” She spotted an empty seat beside Lyra and quickly made her way over.
Lyra took one look at her expression and winced.
“What happened?
You look traumatized.” “Well, this is officially a disaster.
As you can see, people here still can’t get over it.
Someone in the restroom even asked if I exploded the Nexus Orb.” Lyra stared at her.
“…And what did you say?
You should’ve just told them you exploded a bank instead.” That earned a laugh, though it didn’t improve Elora’s mood much.
She dropped into the empty seat beside Lyra while the conversations around the classroom gradually resumed.
A few minutes later, the classroom doors opened, and a tall, middle-aged man entered the room.
His dark uniform and gloves matched the cold expression on his face.
He crossed the room without acknowledging anyone and placed several books on the desk at the front.
The sharp sound echoed through the silent classroom as he turned to face them.
His gray eyes swept across the room.
A few students quickly abandoned whatever they had been doing, while the rest suddenly found their desks fascinating.
He let the silence linger for a moment before starting to speak.
The first word out of his mouth was, “Good.” His voice was cold.
“At least some of you understand the importance of being quiet.” “Welcome to Arcane Academy.
I am Professor Sorn.
Do yourselves a favor and avoid giving me a reason to remember your names.
I would appreciate it.” Professor Sorn glanced toward the front row, and one of them visibly stiffened while doing his best to avoid eye contact.
Elora had never seen fear spread through a room so efficiently.
Interesting.
Judging by his expression, Professor Sorn seemed like the type of person who considered smiling a waste of energy.
“Many of you believe your affinity evaluation determines your future.” He paused before continuing.
“It does not.” That earned several blinks from around the classroom, while one student looked personally offended by the statement.
Professor Sorn paid no attention to their reactions.
“Affinity is a tool.
Nothing more.” As Professor Sorn looked around the classroom, his eyes paused briefly on Elora.
The look lasted only a moment, but it was enough to make her realize he had noticed her.
That alone made her wonder whether it was just a coincidence or if he had noticed the orb incident as well.
Then she remembered.
Professor Sorn had been there during the evaluation, standing alongside the Headmaster and the other professors when everything happened.
That thought made her a little uneasy.
Elora wasn’t sure whether that should worry her or not, but she decided to focus on the lesson instead.
That seemed like a much safer problem for future Elora to deal with.
“You may possess extraordinary talent and accomplish nothing.
You may possess average talent and surpass everyone around you.
And some of you will fail regardless.” The classroom remained silent.
Well, that was encouraging.
What was his problem?
Professor Sorn continued the lesson without the slightest hint of concern, as though he hadn’t just destroyed half the class’s confidence in under a minute.
Elora had a feeling she was going to remember this professor.
“Now that we’ve established that affinity is not a substitute for effort, we can move on to something useful.” With a flick of his wrist, a small sphere of pale blue light appeared above his palm.
The sphere hovered in the air, rotating slowly.
There were no chants, no visible spell formations, and no dramatic gestures.
The magic simply existed.
Elora found herself staring.
The spell looked simple, yet the control behind it was obvious.
Okay, that was impressive.
“This is a basic mana construct.” The sphere shifted shape, its smooth surface stretching into a cube before becoming a pyramid and then a ring.
The transformations happened so smoothly that they almost looked effortless.
“Every spell you will ever cast begins with mana control.” The ring collapsed inward and became a thin thread of glowing blue light that circled his fingers like a living ribbon.
“Not affinity.” The ribbon split into two, then four, then eight.
Quite a few people stared openly.
Even Lyra looked impressed.
“Not talent.” The glowing strands twisted together and formed the shape of a bird.
A murmur spread through the classroom as the bird flapped its wings once and glided through the air before returning to Sorn’s hand.
“And certainly not luck.
None of you made it this far because you were lucky.” The construct dissolved into countless particles of light before vanishing completely, leaving the students stunned.
For the first time since entering the classroom, Professor Sorn seemed satisfied.
“Mana responds to control,” he said.
“The better your control, the more efficiently you can shape, maintain, and strengthen your spells.” He turned and wrote several symbols across the board behind him.
“Most first-years arrive believing magic begins with affinity.
It doesn’t.
Affinity determines what comes naturally to you.
Control determines everything else.” Elora exchanged a glance with Lyra, but neither of them looked away from the board for long.
For all his personality flaws, Professor Sorn clearly knew what he was talking about.
Or maybe she was just impressed by the glowing bird.
Either way, the demonstration had worked.
“Today,” he continued, “you will learn how to sense mana.” A few students looked nervous, while others seemed excited.
One student in the front row looked as though he’d just been informed of his impending execution.
Judging by his expression, Elora was fairly certain that student wouldn’t be sitting in the front row again if Professor Sorn was teaching.
Not that he seemed particularly concerned about it.
“By the end of this lesson, you will either sense mana…” A faint smile appeared on his face.
“…or discover that following simple instructions is beyond your capabilities.” Elora sighed and reached for her notebook.
There it was again.
That strange talent Professor Sorn possessed.
The ability to make every sentence sound like an insult.
Professor Sorn allowed the class a moment to think about his words before setting down the piece of chalk.
“There is a reason your first lesson is not spellcasting.” His eyes moved across the classroom again.
“Most first-years arrive here eager to throw fire, summon wind, or impress their classmates with whatever affinity they received yesterday.” Elora spotted more than a few guilty looks around the room, but they didn’t last long.
“Unfortunately, none of that matters if your control is terrible,” the professor added.
That was all it took for those guilty looks to turn nervous.
Professor Sorn didn’t seem bothered by the effect of his words.
Instead, he tapped the board once to break the silence and pull the students back from their thoughts.
“Now.
Close your eyes.” Uncertain glances passed between several classmates.
Honestly, who wanted to close their eyes with Professor Sorn watching them?
But nobody argued, and dozens of eyes shut throughout the classroom.
Elora hesitated for a second before following along.
Then she closed her eyes.