A Lesson in Gravity

Theron von Adler was not accustomed to being ignored. As the third son of a Baron, he existed in a frustrating middle-ground of the nobility—high enough to look down on commoners, but not high enough to command the respect of true highbloods like the Valerius family. His entire personality was a fragile construct built on bullying those he perceived as beneath him.

And Kael's blatant dismissal was not just an insult; it was a fundamental challenge to his worldview.

"Get up!" Theron shrieked, his voice cracking like a whip in the small room. "When I am speaking to you, you will stand at attention, you filthy—!"

He reached down to grab Kael's shoulder, intending to haul him from the bed. But the moment his fingers brushed against the cheap brown fabric of Kael's uniform, a strange sensation washed over him. It felt as if he were trying to grab a phantom, yet at the same time, it was like touching a mountain of solid iron. His hand tingled with a pins-and-needles sensation, and he instinctively recoiled.

Kael didn't even twitch. His breathing remained slow and steady.

Furious and now slightly unnerved, Theron changed tactics. He would assert his dominance through the one thing he was actually proud of: his magic. He was a solid D-Rank, nothing special, but more than enough to terrify a so-called 'zero.'

"I'll just give him a little scare," Theron thought, a cruel smirk returning to his face. "A small lesson in respecting his betters."

He focused his mana, a faint blue light coalescing around his hand. He planned to cast a simple Gravitas Minor, a low-level spell that would increase the gravity around Kael's bed, pressing him into the mattress and making it difficult to breathe. It was a classic bully's spell—unpleasant, humiliating, but leaving no visible marks.

"Let's see you sleep through this, trash," he sneered, whispering the incantation.

The spell took form. He felt the familiar pull of his mana shaping the laws of the immediate area. He directed the gravitational field to a three-foot radius around Kael's sleeping form.

And nothing happened.

Theron frowned. He focused harder, pushing more mana into the spell. The blue glow around his hand brightened. He could feel the spell fighting him, as if he were trying to push two repelling magnets together. It was bizarre. Gravitas Minor was as easy for him as breathing.

"Must be tired from the exam," he grumbled internally, refusing to consider any other possibility. He gritted his teeth and poured a significant amount of his reserves into the spell, far more than should have been necessary.

This time, something did happen.

The gravitational field, instead of settling on Kael, suddenly and inexplicably inverted and snapped back onto its caster.

WHAM!

Theron yelped as an invisible force slammed him face-first into the dusty wooden floor. It wasn't just his own weight; it felt like a giant was standing on his back. The air rushed out of his lungs in a pained whoosh. His knees and elbows cracked against the unforgiving planks.

"Gah—! What?!" he wheezed, trying to push himself up. But his arms felt like lead. The magical pressure was immense, far stronger than the simple spell he had tried to cast. It was as if his own magic had turned on him, amplified tenfold.

Through all of this, Kael remained asleep, not stirring in the slightest.

From his position on the bed, he had done nothing consciously. But his very existence was a singularity. The primordial chaos that formed the very core of his soul didn't actively repel magic; it simply presented a reality where the petty rules of 'mana' did not apply. When Theron tried to impose a new rule—'gravity is stronger here'—onto Kael's personal space, the universe's default programming around the former Demon Lord rejected the input and returned an error message with catastrophic force.

Theron, pinned to the floor and struggling for breath, could only stare at the peacefully sleeping form of his new roommate. Fear, cold and sharp, began to pierce through his anger. This wasn't normal. A zero shouldn't be able to do this. Even a high-ranking mage couldn't passively reflect a spell like that. What was going on?

He struggled for nearly a minute before the amplified gravitational effect finally dissipated, releasing him. He scrambled to his feet, his body aching, his face covered in dust, and his pride in tatters. He looked at Kael, no longer with arrogance, but with a newfound sense of dread.

He backed away slowly toward his side of the room, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't dare try casting another spell. He didn't dare even speak. He quietly, carefully, began to unpack his belongings, making as little noise as possible, occasionally glancing over at the commoner who had defeated him without even waking up.

Meanwhile, in the most opulent suite of the Noble's Spire dormitory, Elara von Valerius sat staring at her own reflection in a grand, silver-framed mirror. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her exam uniform.

Her personal maid, a worried-looking girl named Anya, fussed around her. "My Lady, you're pale. Was the exam truly so taxing? Should I draw you a warm bath with restorative salts?"

Elara didn't answer. She was tracing the filigree on her sword's hilt, the same sword that had felt so powerful in her hands just this morning. Now, it felt like a child's toy.

Her mind was a battlefield. One side, the rational, noble-born prodigy, was trying to find a logical explanation. Perhaps Kael had a hidden artifact. A one-use defensive item. Maybe the Grave-Maw had a rare, unknown weakness he accidentally exploited.

But the other side of her mind, the primal, instinctive part that had witnessed his power firsthand, knew better. The memory of his eyes, like staring into the void of space, was seared into her consciousness. The way the monster had groveled. The way it had simply… ceased to exist. That wasn't an artifact. That was power. Absolute, terrifying, and completely incomprehensible.

"Anya," Elara said suddenly, her voice quiet but firm.

"Yes, My Lady?"

"I need you to find out everything you can about a new student. A commoner." Her breath hitched slightly. "His name is Kael Valerius."

Anya blinked, surprised by the request. "The boy who broke the Mana-Measuring Crystal, My Lady? The one they're all laughing about?"

Elara's gaze in the mirror sharpened. "The very same. I want to know where he came from, who his parents were, what village he lived in. I want to know every mundane, boring detail of his entire, insignificant life."

Because it can't be insignificant, she thought, a frantic obsession beginning to bloom within her. It's a lie. It's all a lie. And I will find out why.