Prodigies

Athearwood academy

Athearwood Academy: The Heart of Knowledge and Power

Athearwood Academy stands as the pinnacle of magical and intellectual achievement in the kingdom. Nestled on a sprawling campus surrounded by enchanted forests and ancient stone walls, the academy is known for its unmatched prowess in all forms of study. Students come from all corners of the continent to study under the guidance of legendary fighters, and legendary tacticians.

Class [0]

(Lecturing class)

"Theo how many times do i have to tell you to stop sleeping in class"

Theo a prodigy possessing inhuman mental capabilities.

Teacher little frustrated

"I understand that you probably already knows about the things that i am teaching but that doesn't mean you can slack off in class"

"I understand" said theo with a voice that had just woken up.

Class 0

(Physical class)

The crowd was silent as the two fighters faced each other.

One was a battle-hardened instructor—a master of the blade. His experience made him nearly untouchable. His attacks were precise, efficient, and unstoppable.

The other? A young student, untested, but frighteningly skilled. His movements were sharp, unpredictable, and dangerously fast.

A single beat passed.

Then, the student moved first.

He exploded forward, closing the distance in an instant. His footwork was so refined, so fluid, that he barely made a sound.

He didn't attack wildly—he struck with intention.

A direct thrust to the throat.

The instructor's blade moved just enough to deflect the attack, sending it barely past his shoulder. But before he could retaliate, the student had already shifted his stance—turning the failed strike into a downward slash.

Fast.

The instructor stepped back, but the blade chased him, cutting through the air like a whip.

He blocked it at the last second—but the impact sent vibrations through his arms.

The student wasn't just strong—he was relentless.

A feint to the right. A real attack from the left.

The instructor saw it. He angled his blade just so, deflecting the strike upward. But the moment he did, the student dropped his body low and spun—aiming a vicious sweep at his legs.

The instructor barely avoided it by hopping back. But before he could regain his footing, the student lunged again.

He wasn't giving him a moment to breathe.

This time, the instructor had no choice but to parry aggressively.

The moment their swords met, the student twisted his wrist in a way that should have been impossible.

Instead of being pushed away—he redirected his own attack mid-air.

The instructor's eyes widened.

He adapted in real-time.

The student's blade was coming in again, faster than before—aimed at his ribs this time.

The instructor exhaled.

Enough.

He didn't block. He didn't dodge.

He stepped forward.

Before the student could react, a fist slammed into his gut.

The student stumbled.

It was only half a second. But half a second was enough.

The instructor caught the younger fighter's sword mid-swing, twisting it just right to make him lose his grip.

The weapon clattered to the ground.

And then—

WHAM!

The instructor's blade tapped the student's chest.

A killing blow.

Silence.

The student gasped for air, his legs barely holding him up.

Then—he grinned.

"You saw that, didn't you?."

The instructor narrowed his eyes. "Saw what?"

The student smirked.

"The last strike. I almost dodged it."

The instructor paused.

Then, he replayed the fight in his head.

His final attack. The one that ended the match.

The student had seen it.

Too late to stop it.

Too late to avoid it.

But not too late to understand it.

For the first time, the instructor felt something unfamiliar.

Not relief.

Not pride.

It was unease.

Because the boy standing in front of him—wasn't just skilled.

He was inevitable.

"Next time i will beat you forsure"

The teacher little paranoid.

Elias a prodigy possessing inhuman battle instincts

Class 0

(Magic class)

At the center of the arena stood a man draped in flowing robes, the embroidered sigils on his sleeves marking him as one of Athearwood's finest mages. Across from him, standing with his arms casually crossed, was a student—young, unrefined, yet radiating confidence.

The professor's gaze was sharp. "You may begin."

The student didn't move. Instead, he smirked.

"I'll give you the first move," he said, tilting his head. "Wouldn't be fair otherwise."

The professor sighed. Arrogant.

Then he moved.

A flick of his wrist, and the air twisted.

The ground beneath the student's feet turned into shifting sand, swallowing his stance. At the same time, an invisible force pulled at his body, attempting to lock him in place.

A dual-cast—control over terrain and gravity.

A deadly combination.

But the student?

He smiled.

A single snap of his fingers, and the sands solidified back into stone.

At the same time, he leaned forward—just slightly.

The gravitational pull shattered.

The professor's eyes narrowed. He's dismantling my magic… without casting anything?

Then, the student vanished.

No teleportation. No spell. Just sheer speed.

He closed the distance instantly, delivering a palm strike toward the professor's chest—an attack not enhanced by magic, but perfectly calculated.

The professor barely managed to reinforce himself with a barrier.

But—Crack.

The moment the student's hand touched it, the barrier shattered like fragile glass.

A spell-destroying strike. Raw talent, refined to absurd levels.

Born with a body that is consistently being protected by magic itself.

The professor stepped back, fast. His mind raced. No incantations. No visible casting. He's manipulating magic instinctively, breaking spells with pure understanding…

The student grinned, brushing his fingers together as if wiping dust from his hands.

"You're not holding back, right? Because if this is it, I might actually yawn."

The professor didn't answer.

Instead—he raised his hand.

And the reality itself twisted.

The entire battlefield bent into a spiral, the sky warping, the ground stretching like an illusion. There was no longer a direction, no stable footing.

The rules of reality collapsed.

A spell so overwhelming that even archmages struggled against it.

The student?

He simply… laughed.

Then, with a single step—

He walked through it.

Not resisting. Not countering. Just slipping past it like it wasn't even there.

"What was that? It felt like he didn't existed for a moment"

The student reappeared behind him.

A sharp flick of his fingers—and the professor's entire spell collapsed into nothing.

The arena returned to normal.

Silence.

Then, the student patted the professor on the shoulder.

"Nice try."

The next moment—he was sent flying.

The professor had countered with a spell so fast it left no trace of being used. A pulse of force, sending the student crashing into the magical barrier.

The dust settled.

The student groaned, pulling himself up.

"…Alright. That was a good one."

He cracked his neck, rubbing his arm.

But the duel was over.

"Winner: Professor Callian."

The professor exhaled, adjusting his sleeves.

But before he could speak, the student grinned.

"You know," he said, rolling his shoulders, "I think I get it now."

The professor raised an eyebrow. "Get what?"

The student turned, walking off the battlefield like he hadn't just been thrown across it.

"What I'll do differently next time."

For the first time, the professor smiled.

Because he believed him.

His name?

Rain a prodigy possessing inhuman magical powers.