MrKonic

Trapped in a hospital bed his entire life, Li Mingzhe's only escape was through the novels he read. But fate had other plans when a mysterious book appeared on his bedside table. Before he could even read its title, the book dragged him into its pages—straight into the body of Ambrose Rothschild, the sole heir to the illustrious Rothschild family.

At first glance, his new life seems perfect: loving parents, devoted servants, and no siblings fighting for inheritance. But is this truly the peaceful second chance he yearned for? Far from it! Not only is Ambrose's body plagued with the same weakness that haunted Li Mingzhe's original life, but he's also flying blind—having never read the book he's trapped in, he lacks the story knowledge other transmigrators typically rely on!

His only ray of hope? A mysterious system that promises to enhance his abilities. But what cruel twist of fate is this? The system declares his frail body can only handle improvements to his intelligence stat! And as if that weren't enough, Ambrose has been enrolled in Crono, the most prestigious magic academy where heroes and prodigies gather like moths to a flame.

Now, surrounded by talented peers and trapped in the web of noble politics, can Li Mingzhe leverage his one advantage—his brilliant mind—to survive? With countless eyes watching his every move as the Rothschild heir, will he crumble under the crushing weight of expectations? Or will he prove that in a world of overwhelming magical might, intelligence can be the most formidable weapon of all?

Surviving the Magic Academy With Just Intelligence Stats

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The marble corridors of Crono Academy's administrative wing echoed with Jonathan Brightfield's hesitant footsteps. Each click of his heels against the polished floor seemed to punctuate his mounting anxiety as he approached the ornate double doors of Principal Cassandra Blackvale's office. His mind raced with possibilities—had she somehow witnessed the commotion in the arena? Had someone reported him?

No matter, he reassured himself, straightening his already impeccable jacket with trembling fingers. I've done nothing wrong. Following proper protocol. Upholding academy standards.

The carved wooden doors loomed before him, intricate magical sigils etched into their frame—protection against eavesdropping, he knew. With a deep breath that did little to steady his nerves, Jonathan raised his hand and knocked softly.

The Mad Generation