Firm footsteps clad in silver robes clinked against the marble floor of the first-year magic classroom.
The figure who stepped in was a handsome young man with a cold, domineering aura—the youngest Grand Mage in the history of the imperial Magic Tower.
This visit was unusual.
While in previous years, he had always arrived mid-semester, when the students had become little more advanced, this time he stepped in early to fill in for a sick teacher and personally monitor young talents for recruitment to the Magic Tower.
However, in the back row of seats, a white-haired teenager glared at him.
Lucien Hawthorne glared at the Grand Mage with a feeling of pure, one-sided resentment.
‘Damn it,’ Lucien grumbled in annoyance.
‘My plan to legally skip class because the teacher was sick was completely ruined.’ As soon as he stepped deeper into the classroom, the Grand Mage suddenly felt a strange stirring in his chest.
Subconsciously, he immediately cast a protective spell, erecting a powerful mental barrier against mysterious psychic attacks.
As his eyes wandered around the room to assess the students, his gaze locked on a flat-faced teenager who was nodding sleepily, even though nap time hadn’t even arrived yet.
The Grand Mage felt the same familiar fluttering as he stared at the teenager, even though he hadn’t noticed any magic circles or active mana activity within Lucien’s body.
Confused, he chose to ignore the feeling for the moment and began to introduce himself.
“I am Zeonly Knightley, Grand Mage of the imperial magic tower.
Nice to meet you.
Let’s get started with the class.” Zeonly said matter-of-factly, then explained basic magic theory to the class before moving on to the practical session.
A few minutes later, the entire class was led to the spacious outdoor training arena.
The news that the Grand Mage himself would be judging the practical test had the students whispering excitedly.
This was a golden opportunity to be noticed by the Magic Tower.
Everyone seemed excited, except for one person.
Lucien stood at the back, hoping the Grand Mage would even forget to call his name for the test.
Inside Lucien’s head, nihilistic thoughts swirled lazily.
‘Being part of the Magic Tower must be exhausting.
What exactly is the point of joining?
Protecting society with magical research?
Or is it all just for the prestige of joining an elite society?
After all, everything is ephemeral—both the thing being protected and the prestige itself.
Perhaps even the word “protect” is just an empty excuse.
If this world needs saving, let someone else do it.’ The other students, eager to show off in front of the Grand Mage, stepped forward before Lucien, who was still standing where he was.
Seeing Lucien standing silently in the back row, a classic misunderstanding erupted among his classmates.
They whispered in admiration, “Look at Young Master Lucien…
He deliberately let us go first because he wanted to give us a chance and not to steal the limelight.
What a noble soul.” Even the Grand Mage, whose mental barrier was still in place from being exposed to Lucien’s magnetic aura at the beginning of class, felt the same strange feeling in his chest.
Aware that his psychic emotions were being disturbed by the teenager, the Grand Mage also “short-circuited” his brain and misinterpreted it.
Rather than being suspicious, he was impressed by Lucien’s composure, which seemed so dignified and unfazed by worldly praise.
Rather than being hidden, Lucien’s aloofness actually made him even more popular and revered.
‘Damn, what’s wrong with me?!’ Zeonly thought, confused, feeling admiration for the teenager who didn’t even seem to have any intention of studying in his class.
The students came forward one by one to show their abilities.
“Pay attention here!” The Grand Mage’s cold voice, trying to distract his own mind from Lucien as they stood in the middle of the training arena.
While watching the noble students advance one by one, the Grand Mage began giving stern evaluations in between tests.
“Magic is essentially rooted in the five basic elements that every human possesses,” the Grand Mage explained to the class, his voice sounding sharp and authoritative in the open air.
“The greater your mana capacity, the greater the damage.
For ordinary people, magic is sufficient for everyday use.
Meanwhile, support magic such as healing, sealing, and summoning can be learned regardless of your innate element.” He glared at the top students—including Aryosha, a scholarship student placed in an elite class thanks to his raw talent—before continuing, “Beyond the five basic elements, there are rare elements like light, darkness, and ice.
Some elements even have rare derivatives, like the blue flames that only the Valois Dukes possess, or the crystals of the earth element.
Remember, the shape and form of each person’s magic will always be different even if you have the same element.” The basic attack and defense practical tests proceeded smoothly.
Since almost all of the students in this class were of noble birth, possessing vast mana reserves and early training at their respective residences, the Grand Mage’s high standards meant they only achieved average scores.
When the next turn came, Lucien remained frozen in place, barely paying attention to the progress of the test.
“You, the white-haired one in the back.
Come forward,” called the Grand Mage in a tone full of anticipation.
With the laziest move in the world, Lucien was forced to advance to the center of the field.
The Grand Mage stared intently at him, ready to see what magic this teenager would unleash.
However, when Lucien cast his spell, the Grand Mage’s eyes widened in shock.
‘Ice?
This boy…
is a Hawthorne?’ the Grand Mage thought in shock.
As a knowledgeable person, he knew very well that the strange magic that had been affecting his mental state for a while now was not a characteristic of the Duke Hawthorne family, who mastered the combined elements of water and air.
But how could it be that just by looking at him, the teenager’s energy could affect him so much?
Ignoring the teacher’s confusion, Lucien with a straight face released the magic energy inside his body.
Instantly, the ground before him rumbled, sprouting sharp, gleaming, beautiful and deadly tendrils of ice roses.
“That…!” several students exclaimed in shock.
Having only mastered how to use magic and mana circulation since his transmigration, Lucien was not yet fully accustomed to controlling the flow of his magic.
Who would have thought that, in the eyes of those who saw him, his imperfect control would be interpreted as a form of profound and unfathomable high-level magic.
Furthermore, as a descendant of the Hawthorne line, Lucien’s mana capacity was indeed excessive for a child his age.
However, despite the stunning sight of the ice roses that filled the arena, Lucien’s frail body was under too much pressure.
As soon as the magic wore off, Lucien coughed violently.
Fresh blood dripped out of his throat, staining the collar of his white uniform.
Amidst the silence of the arena, which thought the coughing up of blood was evidence of “the use of god-level mana that drained the soul,” Lucien could only curse softly in his heart because this weak body was torturing him again.
“Damn, this weak body!”