CH2 • Undeniable

"Caelum! Wake up!"

Harriet's voice rang out—urgent, but no longer laced with disdain. Instead, there was something else. Expectation. Respect. A quiet plea for favor rather than the usual disappointment.

Two days had passed since I succeeded in the mana sensitivity test. Two days since I collapsed, my body overwhelmed by the sudden adaptation. They called it initial mana poisoning—a condition where the body reacts violently to its first interaction with mana, unable to regulate the sudden influx of energy. I had pushed beyond my natural limits, and the cost had been unconsciousness.

Madam Selvine had not been pleased.

Harriet had been reprimanded for failing to anticipate my reaction, forced into additional training on handling students with unusual magical constitutions—because I, apparently, was beyond common sense. A genius, they said. But one they couldn't yet understand.

As a result, I had been removed from the standard curriculum. While my peers continued their structured lessons, Harriet was assigned to work with me personally. Or rather, they were assigned—four instructors now monitored my progress, reworking my training from the ground up without relying on the usual soul crystal assessment.

Even my meals had changed. High-calorie, nutrient-dense foods filled my plate at every meal, reinforcing my body against the strain of mana refinement. The sluggishness I once felt had faded. My senses sharpened. There was warmth in my blood now—a slow yet steady shift from the fragile state I had started in.

The Evaluation

Two months passed under this rigorous, specialized training. The academy treated me differently—like a rare artifact they couldn't afford to damage. I was given a private space to rest, potions to aid my recovery, and a structured physical regimen to ensure my body adapted properly to mana flow.

Today was my updated evaluation. Harriet stood before the gathered instructors, reading from the revised assessment notes.

Her voice was measured, but I could hear the uncertainty beneath it.

"Mana Quality: Low. The mana within Caelum's core is thin and unstable, making it difficult to refine or strengthen. However, we've seen gradual yet enormous improvement in his ability to harness it consciously."

The instructors murmured among themselves, nodding.

"Mana Quantity: Barely Existential. His reserves are so small that sustaining even basic spells should be exhausting… yet we have seen otherwise."

I caught the subtle exchange of glances. I wasn't supposed to be progressing at this pace. By all logic, my body should be failing under the strain. But it wasn't.

Numbers were being recorded, calculations adjusted. More debt.

"Elemental Affinity: Nearly Null. He shows almost no natural attunement to any magical element, indicating difficulty in harnessing even beginner-level magic. We will have to go the ritualistic route."

A hush fell over the room.

Ritualistic imprinting—it meant forcing mana pathways into my body, carving an affinity where none existed. It was painful. Dangerous. Expensive.

Another cost to be added to my growing debt.

"Mana Circulation: Weak & Stagnant. His mana veins barely react to external stimuli, making mana control inefficient and unreliable… However, once he gained awareness of them, his ability to guide mana consciously has drastically improved."

The methods they used on me weren't conventional anymore. Ancient techniques—long abandoned due to their inefficiency—were being reintroduced. I was an anomaly. A relic of lost knowledge.

"Ignition Rate: Barely a Spark. The soul crystal only flickered for a brief moment before dimming, showing a near non-existent magical response. This is both bad and good."

Harriet hesitated before continuing.

"Caelum has the potential to manually manipulate his mana—separately from instinctual control."

A ripple of unease passed through the room.

"However…" Harriet's fingers tightened around the report. "Should he ever lose focus once he gains his first circle, the backlash could be fatal."

Silence.

One of the instructors murmured, "He's a glass cannon."

Another shook their head. "No… not even that. He's a delicate clockwork mechanism. If one part of the system fails, the entire structure collapses."

They looked at me with pity.

I clenched my fists.

I didn't understand everything they said, but one thing was clear. My path wasn't just difficult. It was dangerous.

Undeniable

"The boy is undeniable."

Madam Selvine's voice cut through the room like a blade.

She stood at the edge of the chamber, arms crossed, observing my progress with an unreadable expression. The moment she entered, the air in the room tightened. Even Harriet straightened their back, suddenly stiff.

Unlike the others, she didn't waste words on pity or praise. She simply watched. Scrutinizing. Measuring. Calculating.

Then, she spoke.

"Begin."

I exhaled and closed my eyes.

The goal was simple in theory: circulate mana through my body using deliberate, conscious control rather than relying on instinct like the others. I needed to form my first circle.

Most mages didn't need to think about it—mana flowed naturally, like breathing. But my mindset resisted innate mana flow. Every movement felt like forcing thick oil through brittle, rusted pipes.

The only reason I had made progress was because I had begun treating the process like a calculation rather than a feeling.

Mana is energy. Energy follows laws.

I visualized it. Every pathway in my body, every obstruction, every inefficiency. I mapped it out in my mind and adjusted accordingly.

Slowly, I guided the mana from my core, sending it through my veins in a controlled current.

A soft, bluish glow emerged from my fingertips. From my eyes. Flickering, but steady. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

Harriet let out a breath of relief. The other instructors murmured.

Madam Selvine remained silent.

Not enough.

I pushed further.

The resistance grew stronger. My muscles stiffened, my head pounded. The telltale burn of overexertion crept in.

Still, I gritted my teeth and adjusted. Instead of forcing mana through sheer will, I redirected it strategically. Finding paths of least resistance. Avoiding weak nodes that would strain under pressure.

The glow on my hands brightened—no longer flickering.

A ripple of surprise passed through the instructors.

Madam Selvine finally spoke.

"…Interesting."

Her voice was measured, but I caught it—the slightest shift in tone.

Recognition.

She stepped forward, her sharp eyes locked onto mine.

"Your approach is unlike any mage I've seen before," she said. "You are not feeling mana. Nor are you instinctively guiding it. You are… calculating it. Like a golem."

I swallowed. "Is that a problem?"

She tilted her head slightly, considering.

"No. But it means your growth will be statically based yet unpredictable. Most mages follow a structured path of progression. You do not. You are rewriting the process as you go."

I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

She turned to the others. "Increase his training. If he cannot rely on instinct, we will refine his methodology until control becomes his second nature."

The instructors nodded.

I exhaled, feeling the strain in my body. I had succeeded—but I knew this was only the beginning.

Madam Selvine's gaze lingered on me.

"Caelum," she said, voice carrying weight. "Do not stop. If you lose focus even once, your entire foundation will collapse."

I nodded.

I understood.

There was no turning back now.

I had to eat, breathe, and live this method. Or I wouldn't survive at all.