Learning at Ludicrous Speed

'This has to be a record. If I remember correctly, Nathan lasted 16 seconds on his first try. Barely one goddamn second. I need to do better.'

Merlin collapsed onto the cold floor of the training hall, gritting his teeth in frustration.

His sense of smell was still shot from the sudden nosebleed, but it was starting to return.

Then, he heard a knock against the wall. Instinctively, his head snapped toward the sound, his eyes darting like lightning.

And that's when he saw her.

An otherworldly beauty… though technically, this was another world.

Her hazel eyes were like the richest, sweetest chocolate, and her long blonde hair flowed dramatically—despite the complete lack of wind in the room.

'Vivienne? What is she doing here?'

"Merlin Everhart."

She spoke his name, but Merlin didn't react. Yeah? And? Obviously, she knew his name—she was his homeroom teacher, after all. Not exactly a shocking revelation.

"Professor Vivienne Dorne. Can I help you with something?"

Merlin kept his tone polite and friendly, but deep down, all he wanted was to get back to training.

"I told you all to rest and explore. And yet, here you are, training?"

She gave him a curious look.

"Yes."

Merlin's answer was instant. No hesitation. No need to lie. He wanted to train. That was it.

"Tell me, Merlin. Who are you, really? A mysterious boy from a mysterious family… and you possess a Spatial Affinity."

'Who am I…?'

Merlin actually paused to consider the question. Was he doing all this to save everyone? Or was it just to save himself?

"I'm not sure what you mean, Professor Vivienne," he said with a small smile.

Vivienne sighed.

"Fine."

She set down her papers and belongings, and Merlin raised an eyebrow.

'What is she up to?'

"Attack me."

Her words made Merlin freeze for a second.

"I'll help you improve, Merlin Everhart. So don't hesitate—come at m-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Merlin's fist was already flying toward her face.

"Fast."

She dodged effortlessly, her movements smooth and controlled.

'Vivienne is a high-level fire affinity user.'

Merlin's thoughts raced as he started manipulating the wind around him, boosting his speed.

"Wind?! You're a dual affinity user?!"

Vivienne's pupils dilated in surprise as Merlin reappeared before her like a phantom.

But even that wasn't a problem for her. She sidestepped with ease and counterattacked.

[Trickster's Reflex]

Merlin ducked under her strike, twisting his body midair to deliver a spinning kick—only for Vivienne to block it as if it were nothing.

"Your affinity control is impressive, but your movements are all over the place. It's obvious this is your first real fight."

She chuckled, amused by the situation.

Merlin Everhart was something rare—someone who only appeared once in a century. And that's exactly why she wanted to teach him.

Vivienne Dorne was an Eight-Star Mage. Among humans, that level of power was monstrous.

"…"

Merlin didn't confirm or deny her words. Yeah, this was his first fight… but he'd read plenty about affinities in the novel. Nathan had maxed out almost every affinity, after all.

Then, fire flickered to life in Vivienne's palm.

"Defend yourself."

Now.

Merlin twisted space and wind together, wrapping them around the flames—snuffing them out instantly.

"How—?"

Vivienne barely had time to react before Merlin was in front of her again, his leg rocketing toward her stomach.

She avoided it with minimal effort.

"You're resourceful with your affinities, I'll give you that. But like I said your combat skills still need work."

She wasn't just criticizing—she was advising him, and Merlin listened intently, soaking in every word like a well-trained puppy.

"Try kicking like this."

Vivienne adjusted her stance, lifting her right leg smoothly. With perfect control, she twisted her waist and launched a spinning kick.

The air cracked from the force.

And she just smiled.

'She's serious about this, huh?'

"Your turn."

Her voice snapped Merlin out of his thoughts.

He exhaled, took his stance, and mirrored her movements.

He lifted his leg, pivoted his waist like a tornado, and let the kick fly forward.

'Something like this?'

Vivienne's eyes widened again.

It was perfect.

She muttered under her breath, almost in disbelief.

"Flawless."

'…?'

Merlin blinked at her.

'What's with that look? Did she lose her mind or something?'

Merlin cleared his throat loudly, finally snapping Vivienne out of whatever trance she had fallen into.

"Alright, listen up," Vivienne said, straightening her posture. "This is how you throw a proper punch."

With a smooth motion, she pulled her arm back, twisted her waist for momentum, and unleashed a punch forward.

BOOM.

The air in front of her practically exploded.

Merlin blinked. Seriously? Was this even considered "basic"? It looked like she had just punched a hole through reality itself.

Still, he had seen enough.

Without hesitation, he adjusted his stance and flawlessly replicated her movements, down to the smallest detail. His punch didn't quite shatter the air like Vivienne's, but the execution was eerily perfect.

Vivienne's eye twitched.

"Are you serious?" she muttered.

Merlin tilted his head. "Did I do it wrong?"

"No, that's the problem," she grumbled, rubbing her forehead. "You did it too right."

If she didn't know any better, she'd think he had been secretly training for years. But no—this kid was just built different.

And so began an endless loop of demonstration and imitation.

Vivienne would show a move. Merlin would copy it perfectly. Vivienne would try something harder. Merlin would still copy it perfectly. Over and over.

Minutes turned into hours.

Merlin, for his part, was starting to get bored.

Vivienne, on the other hand, was having a full-blown existential crisis.

"This isn't normal. This can't be normal."

She had taught prodigies before, but Merlin wasn't just a prodigy—he was a monster.

Finally, she sighed. "Alright, enough of this. Attack me one last time, and we'll call it a day."

Merlin didn't need to be told twice.

The wind surged around him as he dashed forward at a speed that would make most people question their life choices.

Vivienne, however, was ready. Her sharp eyes locked onto him, reading every tiny movement.

"I see it—"

His left fist flew toward her face.

Vivienne easily anticipated the attack and prepared to dodge—

—only to realize a second too late that the punch was a feint.

Her pupils shrank.

"Oh, you little—!"

Before she could react, Merlin's leg was already swinging toward her side in a perfect spinning kick.

A well-placed kick like this could easily send someone flying across the room.

But Vivienne was no pushover.

At the last second, she repositioned herself and blocked the kick effortlessly.

"Not bad, kid," she said, nodding in approval. "Not bad at all."

"Thank you, Professor," Merlin replied, giving a respectful nod of his own.

Then, out of nowhere—

"Merlin, wanna be my disciple?"

"…Huh?"

The question hit him like a brick to the face.

Vivienne stared at him expectantly, as if this was a totally normal thing to ask a student she had just met.

Merlin's brain lagged for a moment.

'Excuse me?'

He knew Vivienne was crazy strong—an eight-star mage at her age? Insane.

'She's, what, 25? Maybe? Probably?'

At this point, the number of people at her level could be counted on two hands.

Vivienne, seeing his hesitation, smirked. "You don't have to answer right away."

Merlin mulled it over.

She was strong. She had connections. Training under her would be an insane opportunity.

But on the other hand…

He had a strange feeling that she was going to make his life very exhausting.

Still, the pros outweighed the cons.

"…Alright."

Vivienne's eyes gleamed. "Oh? Does that mean—"

"I accept, Professor."

A triumphant grin spread across her face—until she noticed his awkward, clearly forced smile.

"…You really don't have to pretend you're happy about it," she deadpanned.

Merlin coughed. "Force of habit."

Vivienne sighed and stretched her arms. "Well, whatever. We'll start again tomorrow, same time."

And just like that, she turned and strolled out of the training hall, humming to herself.

Merlin watched her go, exhaling slowly.

Somehow, he had a feeling he had just signed up for something far more troublesome than he had anticipated.

It was about time Merlin wrapped things up for the day. He quickly gathered his things and made his way out of the training hall.

'Alright, time to head home… wherever that is.'

With a tired sigh, he pulled out his phone to check his apartment's address—because, quite frankly, he had no clue where he lived.

Leaving was way easier than getting in. The guards barely spared him a glance, just giving him a casual nod as he walked past.

'Man, these guys take their job way too seriously. But I guess that's good'

Now out on the street, he scanned his surroundings for a taxi. Just one taxi. That was all he needed. A simple request.

…And yet, the universe decided he must suffer.

Fifteen failed attempts later, he was starting to question his life choices.

'Are you kidding me? Do I have some anti-taxi curse or something?'

By the twentieth attempt, a miracle occurred. A taxi finally stopped.

"Silverveil Avenue 23," Merlin said as he got in, his voice devoid of enthusiasm. The driver nodded, and they were off.

Before long, he found himself in front of his apartment.

"Keep the change," he muttered, hopping out of the taxi and making a beeline for the building. His body was running on fumes at this point.

He climbed up the stairs, reaching his door—only to notice something strange.

It was already open.

'Huh?'

A sense of unease crept up his spine as he stepped inside and carefully shut the door behind him.

And then—

"Where the hell have you been all this time, little bro?"

A voice interrupted his thoughts, making him jump about two feet in the air.

'Little bro?'

Whipping his head toward the source of the voice, his gaze landed on a girl lounging on the couch. Long, jet-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her golden eyes gleamed like a treasure chest overflowing with gold.

'My sister?'

And just like that, a flood of memories came rushing back to him.