Glitches / Flaw
The silence stretched thick in the aftermath of their defeat.
The thirteen students, sprawled or seated awkwardly on the cracked floor, cast furtive glances at one another—no trace of their earlier arrogant and mocking bravado remained.
Their faces, flushed moments ago with righteous indignation, had drained of color.
Finally, Kera, rubbing her chest where the mana thread had struck her, broke the quiet. Her voice was unsteady. "What… what did you do?"
Her question echoed the unspoken thoughts in the room.
Ruvin swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "Yeah. That was… how did you—?"
They all knew what they had done.
They had used the Elemental Mana Pressure Compression Formation, a technique they had learned as children.
Not just a prank to them—this formation was their shared pride.
They had grown up together.
Their families, though not officially noble, were rich and powerful enough in Silver Blade City to enjoy noble privileges.
Their parents had hired the same private instructors, funded the same tutors, and filled their days with the same curated combat lessons.
When they were young, the Elemental Mana Pressure Compression Formation had been drilled into them under the guise of self-defense.
It was a safeguard, designed to overwhelm lone attackers and prevent kidnapping or assassination.
But as they grew confident with it, they had twisted it into something else—a prank.
A tool they'd used repeatedly to humiliate the string of Mana Specialist teachers who had dared to think they could control them during homeschooling.
No teacher had ever seen through it. None had escaped unscathed. Most fled after a week.
Yet here they were—on their backs, staring wide-eyed at a man they'd met just today.
A man who had shattered their technique that they are so proud of in seconds.
Nolan sighed heavily, rolling his shoulders. He casually strolled back to the front of the classroom, leaning against the edge of his desk again, resting his cheek in his palm as before.
"What's so surprising?" His tone was dry, almost bored. "Your formation's riddled with errors. Or should I say glitches—no, flaws."
He flicked his fingers once, lazily. A faint ripple of translucent mana drifted upward like smoke.
"First of all," he began, "the Fire Node overlaps the Wind Node in your outer ring. It's fine if you want to accelerate combustion, but the tether inversion isn't stable. The Fire Affinity anchors into the Wind Affinity's cyclone core at a reverse polarity, meaning you're actually weakening the pressure, not amplifying it. If I flicked just a bit more aura at that spot, the entire left quadrant would have imploded on itself instantly. You didn't notice that?"
They said nothing.
Nolan's eyelids lowered a fraction, and he exhaled softly.
"Second," he droned on, "your Earth Anchor Flow? You're feeding too much static mana into it. Seismic-type mana cores can handle reinforcement, but yours is brittle. You've layered a Tier-5 Hardened Seismic Core pattern over a Tier-3 mana vein structure. The result? Your Earth Flow fractures under stress beyond what's needed to handle basic stabilization. Frankly, you're lucky it didn't collapse earlier. Rookie mistake."
The students didn't move.
Their gazes were locked on him, expressionless but fixed, like statues forced to watch their foundations crumble.
Nolan continued anyway, unhurried and relentless.
"Third. Wind Tether Reversal Inversion. You're trying to create a centripetal vortex effect, but you didn't account for the Storm Petal Drift's natural torque oscillation. You tried to brute-force synchronization instead of respecting elemental nuance. That's why Selin's flow was stuttering. No wonder her Wind Node buckled first."
Selin flinched subtly but said nothing.
"Fourth, your Water Conductor Threads are too thin. Arctic Lotus Streams are delicate, yes, but that doesn't mean you make conduits barely thicker than fishing lines. The second pressure rises, micro-fractures spread through your water network like hairline cracks. If Erik had pushed even 3% more mana, his node would've ruptured and caused backlash directly into his meridians."
A faint gasp from Erik. He lowered his head.
"Fifth," Nolan went on, adjusting his wrist like he was loosening a stiff joint, "your Elemental Affinity Bridges lack rotational balance. You arranged Fire opposite Water and Earth opposite Wind, but your tertiary conduits don't crosslink cleanly. The angular momentum difference between Wind and Fire feeds an unstable oscillation cycle into Earth and Water. By not compensating, you created a standing wave interference pattern in the central convergence point. That's why your compression plateaued and wavered so early."
He lifted his eyes lazily, sweeping across the group.
"Sixth. Your synchronization chant is sloppy. Your mental synchronization rate hovers at 83.7% efficiency at best. For thirteen participants, that's pathetic. You need a minimum of 93% for stable compression. Your minds were leaking stray mana impulses constantly. Frankly, if someone had counter-pulsed with a Mind-Sever Technique, three of you would've passed out instantly."
He tapped his index finger once against the desk.
A hollow click.
"Seventh. Your formation layout geometry is childish. A circle with equidistant nodes? Please. You should be using a Dynamic Folding Hexagram Array. That way, even if an external force knocks one node off balance, the remaining twelve redistribute pressure automatically without collapsing the whole thing."
He exhaled sharply through his nose, tone dry. "I could go on."
And he did.
For what felt like an eternity, Nolan explained flaw after flaw after flaw.
He dissected their formation node by node, element by element, participant by participant.
He described how Kera's fire techniques interfered with Selin's airflow.
How Ruvin's Earth Anchor suffered from imperfect core rotation.
How Erik's Water Mana Stream oscillated half a beat slower than necessary due to weak diaphragm control.
He pointed out subtle gesture flaws, breathing rhythm mismatches, mana vein harmonization errors, spiritual focus imbalances, and even psychological interference—noting that two students harbored quiet resentment, disrupting full trust synchronization.
On and on and on.
By the end, the thirteen students sat frozen in place, unable to meet each other's eyes, their faces blank, pale, and hollowed.
Nolan stretched his back, arms rising over his head lazily before dropping them. "If I had taught you that formation," he said finally, tone distant, "it wouldn't be so sloppy. You'd have released its full potential."
His gaze flicked to them. "You'd have flattened an entire district with it. Even a Mana Knight of my level would hesitate before walking into a trap like that."
A long breath escaped his lips. "But…" He shrugged. "That's not my job. I'm not here to teach you conjuring or formation arts. I'm your Knight Instructor. Nothing more."
The students lowered their heads.
The arrogance earlier—the sneers, the jibes, the bravado—all dissolved like mist.
They sat quietly, as though realizing for the first time they were in the presence of someone they did not truly understand.
Moments passed in silence before, finally, one boy—Ruvin—gritted his teeth and muttered, almost like a frustrated child, "…Learning Knight skills is boring. Just slash slash swords. Every time we train it, they tell us to hold back. Never go all out. Always wait, always practice control. They say we might die if we don't."
Several others nodded quietly in agreement, fists clenched on their knees.
Nolan's expression didn't change. He tilted his head slightly, then asked, voice flat, "What are your Knight level of masteries, then?"
The students hesitated.
Kera cleared her throat softly. "…Second-stage Novice…"
Selin murmured, "…First-stage Novice…"
"Second," Ruvin added.
"Third," Erik mumbled, not meeting Nolan's eyes.
The answers came, one by one.
Most were Second-stage Novice.
A handful were First.
The highest was Third-stage Novice.
Nolan blinked slowly.
He let out a long, exaggerated breath and rubbed his temples with his fingertips.
Then, flatly—expression unreadable—he muttered, "…You wanted real battle experience… and yet you're all so weak?"