Monday arrived, and with it came the first Spellcasting Theory css, followed by Geography after lunch.

  Last week, because of the entrance exams and orientation, a few csses had been skipped. But now that the school schedule was in full swing, Ethan was eager to see what spellcasting was all about. Sure, he wasn’t aiming to become some kind of archmage, but learning how magic actually worked? That sounded useful, even if he was technically a healer.

  He sat in his usual spot, near the middle of the room, with Daniel and Oliver taking seats on either side of him. Daniel looked wide awake and ready to go, while Oliver was already yawning as if he’d stayed up all night.

  “Morning,” Ethan greeted them.

  “Mmm… morning…” Oliver mumbled.

  Daniel, on the other hand, grinned. “First spellcasting lesson! You excited?”

  Ethan shrugged. “A little curious, I guess.”

  Daniel smirked. “You’re going to love it.”

  Before Ethan could ask him what he meant, the door opened.

  The professor who walked in had a rexed air about him. He was in his early thirties, with dark brown hair that was slightly messy and a short beard that gave him a rugged charm. His robes were loosely fitted, and he wore a warm smile as he approached the desk and set down a stack of books.

  “Good morning, everyone,” he said, his tone light and approachable.

  “I’m Professor Lucian Valtoris. You can call me Professor Lucian. Or just Lucian. I don’t mind.” He leaned casually against the desk, hands resting on the edge.

  “Welcome to Spellcasting Theory. I’m sure most of you have some ideas about how magic works. Maybe you’ve seen a few spells cast, or maybe some of you have even tried casting a few yourselves.”

  A few students shifted, while Daniel gave a confident smirk.

  Lucian smiled. “Well, forget most of that for now. This css is about understanding the structure behind spells—the framework that makes them work.”

  He raised a hand, and glowing symbols appeared mid-air, rotating zily.

  “These are runes,” Lucian expined. “They’re the building blocks of every spell. Think of them like letters in a word or ingredients in a recipe. A single rune by itself can have an effect—but that effect will be weak and barely useful.”

  The runes hovered in the air, shifting into different shapes.

  “For example, this rune here—” He pointed to a blue symbol that pulsed faintly. “—is the Water rune. If you shape your mana into this rune and release it, you’ll get… well, a drop of water. Not very useful even if you’re dying of thirst.”

  A ripple of light passed through the rune as it shifted into a slightly more complex pattern.

  “That’s where combination comes in.”

  The rune split into three distinct symbols: Water, Summon, and Quantity.

  “Combine these three together, and you’ll get a proper water spell. Without the Summon rune, nothing happens. Without the Water rune, you won’t get water. And without the Quantity rune… well, you’ll get less than a single drop.”

  He cpped his hands together, and the runes merged, creating a small sphere of clear water that floated mid-air before evaporating into mist.

  “Magic is essentially a nguage,” Lucian continued. “In ancient times, it was said that runes are the World’s Language—that by writing them in the air, you’re making a wish to the world itself.”

  Lucian tapped his chin thoughtfully. “That’s why spellcasting in the Ancient Language literally transtes to Wish Spelling.”

  He waved his hand, and the runes reshaped into a complex circle of symbols connected by thin glowing lines.

  “Now, writing big spells can get… complicated. The more runes you use, the harder it is to maintain the structure. One misstep and the whole thing could colpse—or worse—explode in your face.”

  Ethan sat up straighter. He hadn’t realized magic was so technical.

  “To help with this,” Lucian said, “mages developed Magic Circles—guides that help you connect runes properly without everything turning into a tangled mess.”

  The glowing circle above his hand pulsed steadily, runes settling into perfect alignment.

  “But—” Lucian smiled. “—a true mage doesn’t need a circle once they’ve mastered the fundamentals. Magic circles are training wheels. Once you understand how to bance and connect runes, you can shape them freely.”

  The magic circle dissolved, leaving only the free-floating runes behind.

  “For the sake of learning, however, you’ll all be using magic circles in this css. They’ll help you understand how runes connect—and stop you from blowing yourselves up.”

  A few students chuckled nervously.

  Lucian raised an eyebrow. “No, seriously. If you mess up a rge spell without a magic circle, you will blow yourself up.”

  The chuckling stopped.

  “Alright!” Lucian cpped his hands. “Enough theory for now. Let’s see what you’re working with.”

  He gestured, and a row of small scrolls with magic circles appeared above each desk.

  “These are simplified circles containing the Water, Summon, and Quantity runes. Your task is to channel mana into them and form a small water sphere. Simple enough, right?”

  Daniel grinned. “Easy.”

  “Ah, confidence! I like that,” Lucian said with a wink. “But let’s see how that holds up.”

  Ethan pced his hands on the scroll, feeling the threads of mana interwoven through the circle. Carefully, he reached out with his own mana, trying to fill the runes one by one.

  A faint glow appeared above the circle as the runes began to fill.

  He managed to stabilize the Summon rune, but when he moved to connect it with the Water rune, the whole formation shuddered and flickered out.

  Damn.

  He gnced at Daniel, who had already formed a small, wobbly sphere of water. Oliver, meanwhile, was grimacing as his circle fizzled and sparked violently.

  “Ahh—wait—!”

  Oliver’s circle suddenly burst, and a jet of water spshed him straight in the face.

  “GAH—!”

  Lucian chuckled. “Good effort, Oliver. You’ll get there.”

  Lucian waved his wand, highlighting the 'quantity' rune on the board. It pulsed faintly, radiating with a soft glow.

  "The Quantity rune has an interesting property," Lucian said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Unlike other runes that have fixed outcomes, the Quantity rune accepts an indeterminate amount of mana."

  He extended his hand toward the glowing rune.

  "The more mana you feed it, the more effect you’ll get. In this water creation spell, for example, the amount of mana you channel into the Quantity rune determines how much water is summoned."

  Lucian twirled his wand. The glowing rune pulsed brighter.

  "If you add only a small amount of mana, you’ll get a few drops."

  The rune fshed softly, and a few droplets of water appeared, falling to the floor with soft spshes.

  "But…"

  He narrowed his eyes.

  "If you overfill it—"

  The rune pulsed brightly. Suddenly, a rge sphere of water formed and exploded outward.

  Several students yelped as they were spshed with cold water.

  "—it becomes unstable and colpses," Lucian finished smoothly.

  "If you are having trouble with your spell exploding, try lowering the amount of mana you put in the quantity rune!" Lucian concluded, watching the students reaction with a smile.

  Ethan focused again, filling the runes one by one.

  Water… Summon… Quantity…

  Slowly, the runes began glowing a blue hue on his scroll and as soon as he stopped the flow of mana a flicker of magic sparked to life beneath his palm—

  —and a small bead of water formed above the circle.

  "…Got it."

  Ethan smirked as the water floated gently above his hand. Not bad for his second try.

  A faint spsh from the side made him gnce toward Daniel, who had successfully conjured his own orb of water. Daniel grinned.

  "Piece of cake," he whispered.

  Oliver, on the other hand, was grimacing as his circle flickered and distorted. His orb of water was barely the size of a raindrop.

  "Tch… Come on… Stay together, you stupid runes…!"

  Ethan’s gaze slid toward Misha—and immediately tensed.

  Sweat was streaming down her forehead. Her hand trembled above the circle, and her face had gone pale. The runes she had drawn flickered dangerously as the orb of water wobbled.

  “Misha?” Ethan said quietly.

  “I… I can’t…” Misha whispered.

  Her eyes widened as the spell colpsed—and her mana drained away violently.

  “Misha!”

  Her knees buckled. Ethan shot to his feet without thinking.

  "Oi! Stop—!"

  Too te. Misha colpsed forward—

  Ethan lunged, catching her just before she hit the floor.

  “Hey—Misha—wake up!”

  Her head lolled against his chest, her breathing shallow.

  “Misha!!”

  Two figures rushed over.

  “Misha!”

  The first girl, with short, wavy blonde hair and striking green eyes, knelt down and grabbed Misha’s hand. Her face twisted with panic.

  “Misha! Hey—wake up!”

  The second girl, with long, silver hair and deep violet eyes, immediately pced a hand on Misha’s forehead.

  “She’s cold,” the silver-haired girl muttered.

  Lucian frowned, approaching with measured steps.

  “Mana depletion,” Lucian said calmly. “She pushed herself too hard.”

  Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “What should we—”

  Lucian waved a hand. “She’ll be fine. A bit of rest should fix it.”

  “Geez, idiot…” Ethan sighed, shaking his head as he supported her weight. “You really don’t know when to give up, huh?”

  Misha, barely conscious, muttered something incoherent as her head drooped against his chest.

  Lucian nodded. “For now, take her to the infirmary to rest. The rest of you—keep practicing.”

  “Anya, help me—”

  “What do you think I’m doing, Celica?!” the blonde girl hissed.

  Ethan, watching them struggle to take Misha to the infirmary, adjusted his grip and said evenly, “Let me help.”

  Anya’s head shot toward him.

  “You?! Why would we—”

  Ethan didn’t wait for permission. He stood, cradling Misha’s unconscious form in his arms.

  Celica’s gaze flicked toward him. “…He’s right. It's not time for us to fight.”

  Anya scowled. “Tch. Fine. But don’t get any ideas.”

  Ethan smirked. “Trust me, I won’t.”

  As he carried Misha toward the door, Celica and Anya followed closely behind.

  Lucian’s calm voice cut through the tension.

  “You’re wasting time. Get her to the infirmary.”

  Ethan nodded and left the room without another word.

  Celica fell into step beside him. “I’m Celica, by the way.”

  “Ethan,” he replied.

  Anya scoffed from behind them. “We know who you are.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

  “Anya,” she snapped. “Don’t forget it.”

  Ethan smirked. “Trust me, I won’t.”

  Celica smiled faintly. “You’ll have to forgive Anya. She’s protective.”

  “I can see that,” Ethan said.

  “I’m not protective—I’m reasonable!” Anya shot back. “He could’ve just handed her over to us. We had it under control.”

  Ethan gnced toward her. “Did you?”

  Anya opened her mouth to argue—but then shut it with a scowl.

  “...That’s not the point,” she muttered.

  Celica chuckled softly. “Give him some credit, Anya. He’s more reliable than you thought.”

  Anya’s gre darkened. “We’ll see.”

  Ethan’s smirk widened but he said nothing.

  Ethan pushed through the infirmary doors, carrying Misha in his arms, with Celica and Anya right on his heels.

  The familiar scent of herbal medicine and disinfectant hit his nose immediately, and the sharp clink of gssware echoed through the room as the old, grumpy professor gnced up from behind a cluttered desk. His thin gray hair was as unkempt as always, and his sharp, tired eyes narrowed at the sight of them.

  The professor’s gaze slowly slid over the group.

  "…Is this a school excursion? Since when do patients need an escort of three people?"

  Anya stiffened immediately. “She colpsed in css!”

  The professor’s lip curled into a sneer. “So? Drop her off and leave.”

  Celica frowned. “Shouldn’t you—”

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion,” the professor snapped. He stood, walking toward the nearest empty bed, and gestured toward it with a zy wave of his hand.

  "Drop her there. Carefully. I’m not wasting my precious potions if you damage her any further."

  Ethan’s brow twitched, but he bit back his retort. He carried Misha over to the bed and gently id her down. Her breathing was still shallow, and a small frown lingered on her pale face.

  Anya stepped forward and brushed Misha’s hair away from her face. "Can’t we stay until she wakes up?"

  The professor’s eyes darkened. "Did I stutter?"

  Anya shot to her feet, gring at him. "She’s my friend! She’s obviously drained—shouldn’t someone stay with her?"

  The professor’s lip curled.

  "First-years are so noisy." He strode toward the door, opened it, and gestured toward the hallway. "Out."

  "But—"

  "OUT!"

  Celica and Ethan flinched at the sheer volume of his voice.

  Anya’s fists clenched, her shoulders trembling. "You—!"

  Celica grabbed her wrist. "Anya. Let it go."

  Anya’s eyes fshed. "Are you kidding me—"

  "Let it go," Celica repeated in a low, dangerous tone.

  Anya bit her lip, shaking with frustration, but finally stepped back.

  Ethan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "We get it."

  He gently pulled Anya toward the door, Celica following close behind. The professor stood aside, arms crossed, watching them with cold disinterest.

  Anya’s gaze lingered on Misha for a moment longer before she reluctantly allowed Ethan to pull her out.

  The professor smmed the door shut behind them.

  A beat of silence passed in the hallway before Anya let out a frustrated growl, her fist smming into the wall.

  "That old man—!"

  Celica sighed. "Don’t waste your energy. You’ll need it ter."

  Anya spun toward Ethan. "And you! Why didn’t you say anything?! He’s your professor too!"

  Ethan’s brow twitched. "You think talking back would’ve helped?"

  Anya scowled. "Tch—"

  Celica shook her head. "Let’s just wait for her to wake up. We’ll come back after css."

  Anya's shoulders slumped, and she exhaled slowly. "…Fine."

  Ethan stretched his neck and turned toward the hallway. "Let’s get back before Lucian puts us on his bad side."

  "…You think Misha will be okay?" Anya asked, still looking at the infirmary door.

  "She’ll be fine," Ethan said. "That old bastard may be an asshole, but he knows his craft."

  Celica’s violet eyes narrowed. "…I hope you’re right."

  The three of them exchanged gnces before silently heading back toward the cssroom.