Misfit At Magic Academy: They Wanted a Godly Summon, Got Me Instead

My GPA is lower than a slime’s mana.



My name is Atheron il Ataraxia, and I’m the walking disgrace of the Royal Academy of Magic.



I’ve been held back twice, my essays are used in class as examples of how not to cast spells, and professors sigh in relief when I don’t blow something up during morning lectures.



Truth is? I don’t even like this world.



I was summoned. A girl from this world pulled me in like a card from a cursed deck, and now I’m stuck living here. Attending classes, battling evil spirits, and dealing with stuck-up nobles whose names are longer than my backstory.



But something’s off. My mana doesn’t behave like theirs. The world listens when I speak. And the whispers I hear at night? They’re getting louder.



They say evil spirits wander through Ashgrad under the light of the moon. And I think they’re looking for me.



They think I’m a failure.

Maybe I am.



But if this cursed academy wants to survive the next full moon, they might just have to rely on me — the last-ranked summon with a dangerous secret.